#you can hear her in the background near the end yelling ‘yeah!’ and ‘fuck off!’

[gods-favorite-autistic]

Track list for Fig and the Cig Figs independently published Junior Year album (officially named “Infaethable”)

Teenage Rebellion

Night Yorb (a heavy metal banger)

Summer Scaries

Devils Nectar

Time Quangle (a love song about Ayda)

Multiclass (Gorgug sings on this!)

The Ballad Of Lucy Frostblade (Kristen was the one who convinced Fig to write this)

So Late, So Tactical

Do You Have A Fucking Warrant

Cassandra (Can You Hear Me)

Hall Of Mirrors

President Applebees (written entirely in the night after Kristen gets elected by a drunk Fig with extremely drunk notes by Kristen)

Raging For Love (inspired by Gorgug, of course)

The Elven Oracle (Has A Day Job) (So Stop Bothering Her)

Maximum Legend

Fury Of The Ball

Cursed

Infaethable

The Bad Kids

#i neeeeed fig to go indie it’s her destiny #she promises each of them that she’ll dedicate at least one song to them and then dedicates a track to each of them individually #sklondas seething a tiny bit that she called riz the ball but he won’t stop playing it so it keeps getting stuck in her head #adaine summons mephits to help with her track #you can hear her in the background near the end yelling ‘yeah!’ and ‘fuck off!’ #fabian wanted his to sound like a shanty but fig said it wouldn’t go with the vibe of the album #they eventually compromised by having the noise of waves and seagulls subtly in the background throughout #kristen actually cried the first time fig played the ballad of lucy frostblade for them #summer scaries sounds like an olivia rodrigo song #gorgug gets a sick drum solo in raging for love #time quangle opens with fire crackling and a bird cawing and a quiet clip of ayda saying ‘I love you’ before the instrumental starts #fig stuck a quiet sound clip of gilear saying ‘oh fuck’ and then a louder sound clip of her saying ‘oh fuck!’ in cursed #devils nectar is one of the slower tracks on the album #hall of mirrors is heavily inspired by the events at evil mordred and baron so you can hear a lot of influences from baronesian music in it #fig has a fucking sick as hell guitar solo and a couple of samples from just the bottomless pit in general in infaethable #Gorthalax also gets some lyrical input on it #fig manages to get a clip of riz saying ‘the ball bitch!’ to kalvaxus in freshman year to put in fury of the ball #is this too long for an album? maybe but who cares I love this #a good portion of the profits made from the album goes towards college for the party #having thoughts about fig and the cig fig’s Junior year album #autism (mads) speaks #fantasy high #fhjy #fig faeth #fantasy high junior year #dimesnion 20 #d20 fantasy high #fig and the cig figs

[justjams2003]

Fast Pace-2

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic.Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, tell me if I missed any

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious

Word count: 2,8k

Masterlist

Part 1~Part 3

"What? Am I hearing this right? The Carlos Sainz, famous Ferrari Formula One driver approached you, in an alleyway, during your smoke break and paid you three hundred euros to hide in a cramped bathroom with you.” One of your best friends from high school screams into your ear. You can’t help but cringe, hearing exactly just how famous he is. You blow the smoke from your cigarette and gaze out across your balcony.  

You wish you could say the view is beautiful, with the Eiffel Tower in the background with music of the people in the background. It’s none of that though. The view is another apartment block, and you so wished the man on the balcony would close the curtains. You avoid the balcony in the fear of getting treated to a view of his wrinkled body. How you wish you didn’t have to deal with the gross apartment building.  

“Um...Yes...?” You reply, not really sure what to say. “Not only that, Jasmine, but he then gave her his number and said he would make sure he would see her again!” Your other best friend, Ilsa, on the group call squeals out. You facepalm, knowing they can’t see you, but still, your embarrassment is uncontainable. “What are you going to say?” Jas asks, you can already hear her plotting.  

Your silence says a thousand words. “You are going to text him, right?” Ilsa clarifies and they go quiet only to hear your sigh. “What would I say? Hi, mister million-dollar man, I really liked being cramped in a bathroom with you, and would love to do it again!” You scoff at the ridiculousness of it all and take another puff from your cig. “I mean...” Jas says but you quickly shoot the idea down.  

“Okay, okay, how about this? Address the elephant in the room. Tell him you googled him and then ask him what exactly he wants with you.” Ilsa suggests and it actually doesn’t sound that bad. Your stomach rumbles and as you open the fridge door you can’t help but sigh. Some old cabbage, one egg and a pack of cheap tomato sauce. Another hungry night.  

“Yeah, so that you can be prepared if he just wants a quick fuck!” Jas calls out and again you can’t help but cringe. “Jasmine!” You yell out, glad they can’t see you blush. Even that wouldn’t be so bad. It’s been weeks since someone touched you with any sort of kind intent. Much less how close you two were today. 

 You’d already given the full three hundred euros to your landlord. He just scowled asking where the rest of it is. Not to mention, the electricity is threatening to shut off. Along with the student loans, water bills, phone bills, and insurance, everything is piling up and you feel like you can’t pick up enough shifts to survive.  

I hear her groan, “Come on, Y/N, this could be a really great opportunity for you.” This time it’s Ilsa encouraging you. She’s right, maybe a little distraction from life is just what you need. Not to mention you’d do anything to look at that handsome face of his one more time. The photos and videos online don’t even come close. He’s so much more even just being near him makes you want to beg him to hold you.  

“Fine, but if he gave me a fake number, I’ll ignore you guys for a week.” It’s an empty threat as always. “Yes, of course, as expected.” Jas’ voice is dripping in sarcasm. “I’ve got to go, je vous aime les gars, au revoir.” Ilsa says goodbye, and with that, the call ends. Dinner, wouldn’t that be such a good idea? You open your banking up only to see but a meek two hundred left for the end of the month.  

While you’re on your phone, you might as well text him...right? 

Y/N: I assume you wanted me to google you when you gave me your real name?  

Carlos Sainz 🌶️: And, do I live up to the pictures?  

Y/N: No, you’re much shorter in real life 

Carlos Sainz 🌶️: A dagger in my heart! 

Y/N: 😝  

Y/N: I’m glad you didn’t give me a fake number then. But I can’t help but ask what exactly it is you want with me?  

Carlos Sainz 🌶️: How about this: I’ll explain it all to you on our first date 

Y/N: You intrigue me... 

Carlos Sainz 🌶️: When do you get off from work, tomorrow?  

Y/N: I work the morning, until lunch tomorrow. So I’m free from 16:00 

Carlos Sainz 🌶️: Send me your address, and I’ll pick you up at 18:00. Wear something nice.  

What on earth am I thinking? He could kidnap me! And yet you find yourself in front of your closet picking the one nice dress you bought for your first interview. It’s a simple black, form-fitting on the top but flares at the bottom with frills on the sleeves. It looks so boring to wear on a date with someone like him, but it’s all you have. 

 Along with the only heels you have, once more plain black chunky pumps. Your hair lays right below your shoulders in your natural waves and curls.

You can’t help but groan at your situation and throw a pack of cigarettes into your handbag. It’s a bad habit, you know and everyone around you has told you so many times to stop. But it’s so hard to when living in France and not only that it’s the only thing that seems to help.  

You finish it off with a red lip, hoping to add a slight bit of colour to the dull outfit. Not that you have much time to think of something else, at exactly six, there is a knock on the door. With your heart in your ears, you open the door to Carlos holding a bouquet of pink tulips. 

Not only that but he looks ravishing in black dress pants and a dress shirt, but of course with the sleeves rolled up. You bite your lip, already wanting to jump his bones.  

That tan skin of his has you imagining him, shirtless under the hot summer sun on a Mediterranean beach somewhere. Not only that but his hair seems to fall perfectly in place. So soft and silky and voluminous. Your hand twitches, wanting to rake through his inky black strands and then, of course, ask him about his hair-care routine.  

“How did you know these are my favourites?” You ask, walking inside and placing them in the sink before returning to him. He shrugs, “I have my ways. But enough about that. Querida, you look enchanting.” He takes your hand and guides you to a spin, showing off all of you. Your dress flows and his touch is like fire lighting in your body.  

“Really? I hope it’s fancy enough, it’s all I own, and I don’t really have the money to buy something right now.” You say with a blush coating your cheeks. Why would you tell him that? Now he’s going to think you want him to buy you a new dress. Or maybe you’re only going on the date because you know who he is.  

“Of course, niña bonita, I’m honoured to have such a pretty lady on my arm.” He then takes your hand and helps you down the stairs. And his words cause a blush on the tips of your ears. He helps you all the way to his fire-red Ferrari. “Woah....” You can’t help but utter out, you’ve never been so close to such an expensive car and the fear of breaking it looms in the back of your mind. 

“You like, niña bonita? Comes with the job, of course.” He winks and then opens the door for you, which of course opens upwards. You can’t help but let out a playful scoff, “Duh, of course!” He chuckles at your reaction. “You must tell me if I’m going too fast, no? I like speed of course.” His wink shoots electricity through your skin, not only that but that breath taking smile of his. 

 You don’t have a licence, you never needed one living in France all your life. Even in the smaller town where you grew up, you could walk everywhere. And yet the way he speeds down the freeway causes a thrill to tickle your toes.

Every time he switches the gears, his forearm muscles flex and you have to control yourself. Not to mention, he doesn’t even have road rage, every move, every turn, every gear shift is as smooth as can be.  

If it wasn’t for your culinary degree you’re certain you wouldn’t have understood anything on the menu. Even so, you’d been eyeing this place for a while and some of them you’re still unsure how to pronounce. What shocks you the most is the prices, some things on the menu are half the price of your rent. “What do you think of getting?” He asks, leaning back in his seat. “Um...the breadsticks?” He looks over his menu and raises his brow.  

“The breadsticks are free?” He clarifies, those luscious brows of his furrow in confusion and you nod with a smile. You try not to show him how nervous a fancy place like this makes you. And also how you yearn to be at home in a place like this. “Yes.” He sighs, “Niña terca, I am paying, pick what you want.” That actually makes you feel even worse.  

“Oh, no, it’s alright you don’t have to. I brought my wallet.” You reply, clutching your purse as a reminder. “It is not up for discussion.” He replies, going back to the wine list he’s holding. The guilt shoots through you. You desperately need to accept the money but stil your mother’s manners creep up on you. “Then the...salad.” He rolls his eyes and takes your menu and closes it for you. 

 You go to protest, but he calls over the waiter before you can. “The lady will have the Salmon Meuniere and I shall have the steak. With the Chilled Pinot Noir.” Again, he chooses your favourite option. “How did you....” As if he knows exactly what you’re about to ask, he just shrugs, “We must have similar taste.” 

The fact of these two choices being so similar doesn’t make you suspicion. Instead, it makes you feel warm and at home almost. How similar are you two already, and how much more can fall into place? You eye him, raising your brow as he too studies you. “What is it, estimada. You want to say something.” He guides with his hand to open up the conversation.  

“How do you know?” You ask, in awe of how much detail he sees. He chuckles and then leans forward and smooths out the area around your eyes by your temples. “You get this crinkle, when you are holding something back. I noticed it yesterday.” You can’t help but blush and cover your face.

“It’s my job, estimada. To notice the small things, in the car, in the track, in the ladies I like.” His words are smooth like butter and those dark eyes of his stare you down.  

The waiter comes and pours your wine and places down your food. You take a sip from the cool beverage. “You owe me an explanation.” You shrug, the only response you give. Not trusting your throat. His jaw locks tight and he leans in a bit closer to you. He bites down on the juicy steak and the way his jaw muscle flexes causes obscene thoughts to fly through you.  

“What I tell you next is not to be known by anyone besides you and me. Let’s put it like so, my managers believe that I should, how you say, casarse ya.” He switches to Spanish so easily. You have no idea what he said but merely nod along. All while savouring the taste of the perfectly cooked salmon and expensive wine that pairs so well.  

“I turn 34 next year, one of the oldest on the grid. They believe that I should stop wasting my time and just settle down already. My publicist also believes it would get more sponsors and boost my public image. So, I am coming to you with an offer.” I raise my brow; I knew this would be too good to be true.  

I should have known that someone like him wouldn’t bother getting close to someone like me. Clearly only there to entertain the people as always. Does he want pity points from his fans? Embracing a poor Frenchwoman from the slums. Doing some sort of charity work? I cross my arms and lean back; I can tell that he sees me retracting from the conversation entirely.  

But still, I allow him to continue. “I will pay you, any amount you wish, shopping, jewels, vacations, even something more practical like the rent or student bills. In return, you pretend to be my long-term girlfriend. You come with me to the races, show up in the paddock, and tag along in interviews. The whole deal.” He bites those plump lips of his and now you wish he’d be more hideous.  

For once he actually looks a bit nervous. You can’t help but scoff and roll your eyes at this. “So...like a sugar daddy situation...?” He senses your resentment towards the idea and is careful to reply. “I suppose so,” his eyes seem to panic and you can’t believe your ears.

You grab your purse, “I can’t believe you, Carlos! I thought I’d finally met a decent well-off guy, but no. Ces foutus garçons. Je ne peux jamais faire confiance aux hommes. Jamais!”  

You can’t help but switch to your native language. The translator in your mind fails due to your anger and you can feel tears prick in the walls of your eyes. With your purse in hand, you push your seat back and in a rage go to leave. But suddenly you’re forced back down onto your chair by Carlos’ firm grasp on your wrist.  

“¡Siéntate, niña testaruda, y escucha!” His translator too, is out the window. You pout and cross your arms, shocked at his audacity. “Listen here, and listen well, little girl, because I can clearly see you are in desperate need of some discipline. Mocoso.” He leans over you and the way he speaks with such a demanding voice makes your core ache. And yet you can’t help but want to defy him more.  

He sits down again but is clearly ready to catch again if needed. He then grabs you by the chin and makes sure you look him into those swirling brown eyes. So dangerous and ready to attack if need be. “I can see it in your eyes, dollface. I can see it in the way you eye the Porche that passes, the Louis Vuitton handbag in the window and the most expensive item on the menu.” 

Has your eye really been wandering so much? Or is his attention to detail so fine-tuned? If it weren’t for his hand clasping your chin, you’d long since would’ve looked away. “You have champagne taste and I’m giving you the whole vineyard. Don’t make another stupid choice and accept the offer. I won’t ask again.”  

His voice is strong and commanding and the way he speaks makes you want to get down on your knees and open your mouth for him. He lets go of your jaw, allowing you to speak. “And if I want something more?” You ask and can’t help but dial up the charm fluttering your dark lashes. He smirks watching you go from bratty to begging.  

“I can feel the chemistry too, estimada and I can see the need burning behind those eyes of yours. If this were to become something more, then so be it. And if you want this to be a quick fling and your intro into the limelight, then so be it. And if you want it to only be an exchange of money and appearance, so be it too.” He shrugs, watching your reaction to each option.  

Then he turns serious again. “That all can be decided later. What must be decided now, is whether you’ll join me or not. I must apologize that I can’t give you much time to think about it, I have an early flight tomorrow. You’ll have to join me.” I furrow my brows, I thought he had the whole week? Anyways a choice must be made....  

My taglist is open! If you wish to be tagged in this story alone, please comment or reblog with the words 'tag'. And if you wish to be tagged in all my posts please comment or reblog with the words 'tag all'.

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #scuderia ferrari #sugar daddy!Carlos sainz #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x reader #sugar daddy!carlos sainz x sugar baby!reader #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #carlos sainz smut

[marvelandimagine]

At Ease, Gents

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Annie Murphy (baker!OC)

Summary: Annie finally finds out why everyone in Alfie’s bakery ignores her, and she sets things straight with her boyfriend and his men.

Word count: 1900ish

A/N: This is connected to my HC that Annie ends up knowing even more about Alfie’s men than he does and does things like giving them the day off and Alfie’s like “?!?” or she sends them flowers for births + deaths in the family and all Alfie’s boys would gladly take a bullet for her ok that’s it enjoy!!

—

Annie had only popped by Alfie’s office twice before they started dating: once to get his keys so she could walk Cyril while Edna was on holiday, and once to drop off a heaving “thank you” culinary basket for helping her sort out the bakery’s books after Callum died (“The worst mistake I can make with letters and dyslexia is a spelling error, right, but with numbers, I will doom my entire bloody business.”)

But now, she found herself there much more often, from midday lunch breaks to “surprise” visits brought on after Ollie called her, pleading with her to come by to calm Alfie down (who she would then promptly hear yelling his head off in the background).

And she loved seeing her Alfie, no matter what mood he was in. But she didn’t love how his men were treating her — or rather not treating her. Because no matter who she said hi to or smiled at, wanting to get to know the people Alfie spent most of his time around, it was like she didn’t exist.

And after about two baffling weeks of this, she finally decided to address it with Alfie.

“Do your men not like me?” she blurts out across his desk, and Alfie reluctantly tears his attention away up from the brisket sandwich she just placed in front of him.

“Where’d ya get that idea?”

She sighs, resting her chin in her hands. “I dunno. I mean, I’m friendly, right? But whenever I say hi to any of ‘em, they just ignore me or walk in the complete opposite direction.”

She looks at Alfie expectantly, but he doesn’t seem to share her concern. In fact, he looks pleased.

“Good,” he replies, reaching for his lunch again. Annie narrows her eyes, swatting his hand and pulling his beloved brisket away.

“Oi!”

“What do you mean good? It’s maddening, it’s like I’m invisible! And I don’t understand why-“

But then, the pieces finally click into place in Annie’s head. Virtually nothing went unnoticed by Alfie. And if his men were ignoring her, he knew about it— but he hadn’t addressed it. And there could only be one well-meaning but well-overprotective reason behind it:

“You told them not to talk to me, didn’t you?”

Alfie’s brows furrows as he nods.

“Talk to, look at, breathe the same air as. Yeah. That ‘bout covers it,” he grunts. His ring-clad fingers creep across the desk, and she rolls her eyes and pushes his sandwich back to him. He claps his hands together and normally, she was happy to see him gleefully attack her cuisine, but right now, she was just exasperated.

“Love, c’mon. You talk to everyone I work with! And the lads clearly know I’m off the fucking menu.”

Eyes still closed, savoring his first few bites, Alfie shakes his head.

“Can’t count on it with these cunts.” He finishes chewing and opens his eyes, grabbing Annie’s hand.

“Look, pet, you are a beautiful, brilliant goddess, right, who should have songs dedicated in your blessed name.” His soft tone turns into a growl as he gestures out the window of his office. “But they are a bunch of manky fuckin’ sots, and I don’t want any of ‘em near ya unless I say so.”

Annie sighs. She knew full well that Alfie didn’t know the phrase “half-assed”—whatever he did, he threw himself into it fully. And while she normally appreciated his zeal and tenacity, sometimes, he took things a bit overboard. And banning every single one of his men from acknowledging her presence without prior approval was a prime example.

She walks around the desk and nestles into her usual spot on Alfie’s lap. His strong arms wind around her, and she cups his bearded face with one hand as his stormy blue eyes meet hers.

“1) They can’t possibly all be that terrible. I know I’m shite at maths, yeah, but it’s statistically impossible. And, 2) Alfie, I’m here practically every other day now, and you know how I am, I can’t help chatting.” She pats the side of his head. “Very much like someone else I know. There’s no way I’m never, ever gonna interact with them.”

Alfie chuckles darkly.

“Oh, but there is a way, dove. See, I have found that there are few things on Earth more compelling to men than the threat of getting their balls shot off. Hm?”

“Always with the flair for the dramatic,” she thinks to herself, and decides right then and there to take matters into her own hands.

“Right, I get that you’re being protective. And I appreciate it and you, but you’re also being just a touch mental.” She kisses the top of his head. “But don’t worry, I’ll clear things up.”

“Annie,” he replies, a warning note at the edge of his tone.

“Alfie,” she sing-songs coyly, bringing her lips to his. She can’t help but smirk against him as the kiss works as she intends, feeling Alfie relax underneath her as one of his hands instinctively slides to her jaw. Then, suddenly, he presses her back, hands firmly on her shoulders.

“Nah, nah, I know what you’re playin’ at, love. Tryna get me to forget that fuckin’ look in those gorgeous eyes, the one tellin’ me you’ve got some kinda clever idea brewin’ in that head of yours.”

Annie’s hand flies to her chest, feigning indignation, and now it’s Alfie’s turn to roll his eyes.

“I’m serious, An, don’t ya go stirrin’ up-“

Annie cuts him off with another kiss, then pulls back with a smile.

“Too late,” she brightly. Before Alfie can even blink, she slides off his lap and snatches his cane from the side of his desk in one swift motion, propping it against the doorframe as she strides out — but not before she hears Alfie shout:

“Oh for cryin’ out loud, that’s fuckin’ dirty!”

“You love me!” she calls back over her shoulder, as she walks purposefully down the hall. She knew that if she said she just wanted to talk with him and his workers, he would’ve scoffed and grumbled and refused to leave his office. But now, with the air of mystery about her, she knew he’d chase after her—the not knowing what she was going to do would drive him mad. And that was all she needed.

She walks into the open part of the warehouse and while a few of the men’s eyes flicker up as she enters, they immediately avert their gaze back to what they’re doing. Absolutely ridiculous. Annie waits until she hears the sound of Alfie’s cane against the floor, cursing under his breath, to speak.

“Oi! I need to talk to you lot. That includes you,” she adds in an undertone to Alfie. He scowls as he looks out at the sea of seemingly unaware men, but when he looks back at Annie, giving him her most determined stare, his resolve finally cracks. He runs one hand through his beard and sighs.

“Alright, alright, An. I clearly ain’t fuckin’ stoppin’ ya, so tell us what’s on your mind, love.”

Annie gestures back at the workers.

“Not gonna matter since they’ve taken your word to ignore me as bloody gospel.”

“Fair enough.” Alfie lumbers forward a few steps, his blue eyes turning icy as he scans the room, which has gone as quiet as a church—a silence which Alfie’s booming voice then shatters.

“ARE YOU LOT FUCKIN’ DEAF?!” he thunders, and a handful of workers actually jump. “Fuck knows why, but my Annie wants to talk to you miserable gits, yeah, so best pay some close fuckin’ attention!”

Alfie crosses his arms and glowers, but his voice is as sweet as ever when he turns to Annie.

“Right. Floor’s yours, dove.”

“Thanks, Alf.” She waves out at the crowd of burly men before placing her hand on Alfie’s shoulder. “Hi! So, I know this one has threatened you all with total bloody destruction if you so much as say ‘hello’ to me. But we’ve chatted and the thing is, I don’t want someone getting their balls blown off just because they said hi to me or told me about their kid’s football match that I asked about — not having that on my conscience. I like people, I like talking to people. So we can all-”

She pauses, turning her head to stare pointedly at Alfie, “just relax, yeah? To be clear, the only time you will be in danger of castration from him or from me is if you’re being a prick. So don’t be a prick, and we’ll all get on just fine, with all our body parts intact. Fair enough?”

She turns and looks at Alfie again, who still has his arms crossed, maintaining his posture of bear-like intimidation, but she can tell he’s trying not to smile underneath his beard. He nods, and his men quickly imitate the motion.

“That’s it, then,” Annie says happily. “Cheers, gents.”

She feels Alfie take her hand in his, and the two of them turn and walk out the door.

“Castration by me or you, huh?” Alfie asks, and Annie smiles.

“I figured you’d be more amenable with that addition.”

“Damn fuckin’ straight.” He gives a low chuckle as they walk into his office, and no sooner does it shut does Annie finds herself quickly pushed up against it by Alfie.

Her pulse races as he cups her face in his hands, and she savors the familiar warmth of his palms and the cool touch of rings against her skin. Lets his heady aroma of oak and rum, of sandalwood soap and musk and eucalyptus oil flood her senses.

“You truly are somethin’ else, ya cheeky, captivatin’ creature,” he murmurs, bringing his lips to hers in a deep, claiming kiss that Annie reciprocates, her hands tugging at his vest to bring him against her.

She breaks the kiss and gives him an affectionate bop on his nose, watching the corners of his eyes crinkle as he grins.

“Your somethin’ else.”

“And I’m well bloody thankful for it.”

In the end, the new arrangement suited Annie and Alfie well.

On Annie’s end, she found herself striking up connections and friendships effortlessly as usual, and it also brought her an unanticipated peace of mind in getting to know the men who spent so much time around Alfie — particularly ones like Ollie and Ishmael whose jobs were to have her boyfriend’s back.

And despite Alfie being the one to start the initial no-contact-with-Annie decree, he couldn’t help but melt a little when she’d start going on and on about how precious Ish’s boys were, that she had plans to make babka with Noah’s wife — her big heart was such a big part of why he loved her. And he was pleased that no one dared to get out of line or ever make a move on Annie.

Alfie was also extra pleased that Annie’s ability to make friends so easily had the unintended effect of essentially creating an army of men who viewed her like a sister to protect at all costs. In other words, there was never any shortage volunteers to hang round Annie’s bakery and make sure she stayed safe — which was all Alfie wanted in the first place.

#Alfie Solomons #Alfie solomons x reader #Alfie solomons x oc #Alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons headcanons #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons x you #peaky blinders alfie #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders fanfic #Tom hardy #tom hardy fic

[cakeofthepan]

Beth and the winning werewolf strat of let Matt and Freddie tear each other to shreds while Will get anxious about it. Plus some bonus teen talk!

[Audio Transcript:

[Among Us impostor sound effect plays intermittently in the background]

Terry Junior: Okay, so the play is, "Among Us". And—

Freddie: [aborted laugh]

Will: [inhales]

[three simultaneous exhales]

Terry Junior: And you are all going to be playing the role of different members on the crew. at least one of you has been taken … by a doodler thing and is a copy.

Beth: [laughs] Hi. I'm Beth May, and I play Scary Marlowe…

[short gasps]

Beth: A goth punk seeker of darkness who is not like the other warlocks.

Scary: Guys, let's get out of here, let's go to like Sonics or like the—

Anthony: [screaming] NO!

[group laughter]

Matt: We text— they get a text message from a payphone.

Scary: Let's at least go to like, D.A.D.D.I.E.S. headquarters where we can like get away from this loser.

Link: So if Scary was this thing—

Scary: Or you!

Link: Okay, fine. Let's just put it on me.

Beth: Well, it's also, is like, I remember how good Will was at Among Us, and it like…

Will: I was terrible at Among Us!

Beth: You—! No! When you were like the person, you were really good—! And now you're smiling!

Will: You're smili— [yelling] She’s throwing me under the bus!

Anthony: Alright. Hold up, hold up—

Will: [yelling] She's setting me up.

Matt: Beth?

Anthony: [laughs]

Scary: You know what? I wish I was the Doodler. ‘Cause then I would be like a cool badass person and not this person's sitting here being fucking interrogated.

Terry Junior: Everyone— every—

Normal: You are a cool badass person.

Scary: Fucking… [exhales]

Anthony: Terry goes—

Terry Junior: Did everyone hear that? She actually- she has a lot of doubts about herself, she's very—

Will: [laughs and claps]

Scary: Oh my God! I wish I was the Doodler!

Terry Junior: Hey, teach, we use without the meta commentary!

Scary: I wish I was the Doodler so that I could just crush…! Everybody!

Terry Junior: Fair, I’m just saying, it’s—

Taylor: Let her do her process you jerk.

Terry Junior: I'm sorry, it’s just something we relate to [trails to near mumble] in terms of our feelings about… No, go on.

Scary: We can ask, like, the whale who's…

Link: Yeah!

Normal: [gasps]

Scary: …fucked up!

Normal: To the whale!

Link: To the whale!

Anthony: The teacher's like—

Terry Junior: Well, don't go.

Link: Who is the one that suggested that we go back to the whale?

Scary: It was me! B—

Link: Oh! Oh, so now you want to go into our headquarters? Is that what you're trying to do?

Scary: No, I…

Link: Maybe the incursion was trying to break into the headquarters!

Will: And I want to see if anyone's giving off evil auras.

Scary: I hope I'm giving off evil auras

Terry Junior: I just want you to know, Scary, that I love you very, very much

[Among Us ejection sound effect plays]

Terry Junior: If you can hear me in there.

Freddie & Will & Matt: [gasp]

Not!Scary: [voice distorted] I just want you to know that I'm not like the other girls.

[gasps]

Matt: [chuckles]

Beth: and so, Anthony sent me this email that says ‘so basically between the last episode and the next one a doodler creature attacked you, subdued you, and has you in a pod. Your goal is to survive a game of werewolf and in a larger sense infiltrate D.A.D.D.I.E.S. HQ and take it over from the inside.

Matt: So Anthony fridged Beth is what happened?

Beth: Yes. [laughs]

Will: Dang, you hate to see it

Anthony: No, I fridged Scary. I gave Beth the role of a lifetime.

End Transcript]

#thought this might alleviate my Scary feels for today but alas #we going through it lads #dndads #dungeons and daddies #my audio #long post

[sirthisisa-wendys]

One Wall Over: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: you’re new in the neighborhood, but that doesn’t mean you’ll get a warm welcome from your duplex buddy. 

wc: 3k

tw: nsfw, smut, annoying noises at five am, the works 

a/n: ahhhhhhhhh! I am so excited to be taking part in this collab with @suna-reversed reversed for a super sexy jjk collab! Please check out the masterlist for the collab here and the other authors! SO EXCITED TO READ THE OTHERS! (The other title I had for this work is “First of All, How Dare You” because that’s literally me every time I see my hubby Suguru, but anywho!).

Moving in was a bitch. 

For the first time ever, you have no roommates, no parents, and no pets - just you and your meager belongings moving into the little, two-story duplex a friend allowed you to sublet. As you stare out of the window facing the sparse front lawn, you wonder what your neighbor is like. They hadn’t come to welcome you to the home, but you knew they existed by the sound of the bass through your shared wall at five am every morning. 

You assume they’re male or a couple, but you’ve never gotten a chance to see them with your own two eyes.  So you kept a lookout day after day. At exactly four p.m., you would sit across from the window with a book and keep watch, the sun streaming in and illuminating your figure and crossed legs anchored on the window sill. But day after day, you wouldn’t see anything. The neighbor’s car wouldn’t even move an inch from the previous day. Everything would remain the same until the next day when you took your perch by the window. 

It isn’t until you’re out on your front lawn, slaving over the flowers you maintained for a whole month - a new record - that the sleek Range Rover drives up to the garage on your neighbor’s side of the house. At first, you don’t notice it, your eyes firmly planted on the soil at the root of your orchid tree. But then you hear a car door slam, and you look up, watching for the person who would be exiting the vehicle. 

A tall, black haired man slides out of the truck and slams the door shut, his locks tucked into a half bun and a white towel resting around his rippling shoulders. He slides his keys into his gym shorts and turns to walk into the house, barely noticing you on the front lawn in an ill-fitting t-shirt and dirty yoga pants. 

He’s halfway to his front door when you find your voice and yell out, “Hey, neighbor!” You wave your hand at him in hopes that he would return the gesture, but you’re sorely disappointed when he only looks your way with disinterest and walks into the house without speaking. You frown at the encounter, hoping that he would return a little while later and explain his lack of manners, but he doesn’t, and you retreat into the house once more. 

______________________________________________________________________

“Unzzz, unzz, unzzzz…” Both eyes fly open at the sound of the bass on the other side of your bedroom wall, the sudden noise jarring you from your sleep. 

“Ugh…” Your eyes slide to the white numbers on the clock face, which politely remind you that it’s five-fifteen AM. Don’t confront him, don’t confront him. You wrap the pillow around your ears, hoping the gentle cushion would block out the sound. But for some reason, it gets even louder, and a groan escapes your lips. There were only two more hours for you to rest, but at this rate, you’d be up until it was time for you to wake and get ready for work. That just wouldn’t do. 

The grey sweatpants deposited on the floor the night before are quickly jerked on, and you pad to the front door, not caring about your appearance as you walk the length of the porch over to his front door. Inhaling, you find the will to bring your fist up and pound on the door, hoping the sound would be angrier than you actually felt. Fear ate at your nerves while you waited. A few agonizing moments later, the door is yanked open, music floods outside, and your neighbor stands before you in just a pair of black sweatpants. Nothing else. 

“What?” he gripes, sweat rolling down his forehead. As your eyes take in the full sight of him, you wonder what kind of sculpted god you had for a neighbor. You could even faintly see the v that would culminate in the bulge near the crotch area of the pants, which apparently is quite--

“Uh…” You had entirely forgotten what you had come over to his side of the house for, but as he leans on the doorframe and gives you a withering stare, you suddenly remember your complaint. “Your wall is next to my bedroom. Can you turn your music down?” You place a hand on your hip, trying to seem more inconvenienced than you actually were in that moment. 

“Yeah, sure.” He shuts the door in your face, and you trudge back over to your side of the house, hoping the music would soften. 

But for some reason, you swear he turns it up even louder. 

_______________________________________________________________________

“Why don’t you just call the landlord and make a noise complaint?” your friend wonders over the phone, the sound of a frying pan in the background slightly overshadowing her voice.

“But you said you didn’t have any problems with him, Mariela.” 

“Yeah, Geto was nice enough and didn’t bother me much. Not sure why he’s being such an ass now.” You hear an oh, shit on the other end, and Mariela hisses into the receiver, “Hey, y/n, I have to go; the risotto is burning. Call me back if you have any other issues, okay?” 

“Okay.” You hang up and toss your phone on your desk, trying to focus on the words in front of you but failing as the sound of the bass filters through the other side of the wall again. For the fourth day in a row, you’ve been subjected to the sound of pure noise coming through the other side. Tonight was absolutely not the night, mostly because you had a presentation that took you all night to finish, and the clamor was interrupting your prep work for the bright and early eight o’clock meeting. You feel like Squidward, subjecting yourself to the endless noises from the grunting to the bass to the sound of weights clanking back into place. 

It’s the sound of Geto’s groaning that sets you on edge the most. If it weren’t for the added noise of weights, you’d be convinced he was fucking someone. There was no way he could make so much noise and not know that he was disturbing your peace. Hadn’t he ever heard of headphones? 

You snatch up your set of earbuds on your desk, place them in your ears, and try to turn up lofi music as loud as it will go. But that doesn’t work. Even relocating to the living room didn’t seem to fare you well, and you wonder if he truly had cranked up the music higher than before just to annoy the hell out of you. Finally, you toss your earbuds down and slam your computer on your coffee table. 

You’d had enough. 

Stomping over to the front door, you fling it open and bang on Geto’s door, hoping he would answer it in a rage so you could let out your frustrations. But when the door flies open, he’s dressed in only a pair of gym shorts, this time the outline of his dick even more apparent. But you’re not focused on that. You point a finger at him and inhale to begin your tirade; sick and utterly over his shit.

“Hey! Can you fucking turn it down?” Geto stretches out a hand, and for a minute you think he’s going to grab you by the shirt, but he pulls you inside by the wrist, crushing you against his chest. “What the hell?” You push away from his sweaty chest, backing into the closed door harshly. 

“Lower your damn voice; the neighbors will hear,” he chastises, and turns away from you to grab the water bottle on the counter. The muscled man takes a long swig, then wipes his face with the towel right next to it. 

“I don’t know what the fuck your problem is, but I’ve never been so disrespected in my li--” As you talk, he’s advancing on you, pushing back his long black hair back behind his ears and getting too close for comfort. Once he’s right up on you, you gulp hard, fully intimidated by his size and stature. The music suddenly stops, and you’re left in silence. 

“I’m listening,” he mutters, staring down at you. “Please, continue.” 

“I was saying…” your throat dries up. “What I meant was…” Your eyes travel from his chest to his navel, and then to the hand pressed against the doorframe.

“Uh huh…” He nods, squinting his black eyes at you. “You said you’ve ‘never been more disrespected in your’… life, right?” You don’t reply. Rather, you can’t reply. All of the words you could have ever said are now gone from your skull. “I highly doubt that, y/n.” 

“H-how…” 

“You’re Mariela’s friend. I’ve seen you quite a few times before you moved in here. Never thought I’d be living so close to you, though. Mariela’s subletting, isn’t she?” 

All of these questions. And you can’t reply to a single one because he’s practically squeezing you between the door and his rock-hard abs. Or are you pressing yourself against the door to get away from the heat emitting from his body - oh, fuck; you don’t know. 

“But I had to get your attention somehow.” The admission startles you so bad that you accidentally knock the back of your head against the door, touching the point of contact in pain and hissing slightly. Geto hums at your blunder, then pushes off of the wall to turn away from you. As he rotates, you catch a glimpse of his erection, now fully apparent in the atrocity that is his shorts. “The yard work wasn’t effective, the trips to the gym and back barely worked; shit, by now I would’ve thought you would throw yourself at me the first chance you got. I guess I had to make you mad enough to confront me.” 

“You literally looked at me and said nothing the first time I saw you!” you retort, throwing your hands up in the air. “Then you almost bit my head off the first time I came over to tell you the music was too loud.” 

“I didn’t expect you to come over the first time. Besides, I couldn’t figure out anything smooth enough in that short amount of time.” Geto shrugs, his shoulder muscles moving like water in the dim lighting of the living room. You look around at the furnishings, noting his impeccable taste in wood and red suede in conjunction with his minimal exercise equipment. “Coffee? You look like you’ve been up for a while.” He leans over a coffee-maker - one of those fancy ones that you’ve seen on TV - and slides a plain coffee cup into the holder. 

“Uh, no thanks.” You turn to the door and begin to open it, but Geto clicks his tongue thrice. 

“You’re just going to leave without getting what you came for?”

You pause for a moment, then turn back to look him over once. “Don’t you mean what you brought me over here for?” A lazy smile spreads across his face, and that’s when you realize that he’s charming, but not necessarily as suave as you first imagined. You shut the door and walk over to him, examining his physique as if you hadn’t just helped yourself to his tall, statuesque figure already. He allows you to look him over, eyes dedicatedly following you.

“Like what you see, doll?” You don’t get a chance to answer as he pulls you into his chest with a smooth movement, then presses his lips against yours. You instantly open your mouth so he can slide his tongue inside, and he does so without hesitation. Hands grasp at your flimsy night shirt, pulling it over your shoulders as he backs you up against the wall, hiking one leg up and wrapping the other around his waist. 

As both of your hands tangle in hair, fabric, sweat, you wonder how long - just how long - he’s wanted to do this. But your train of thought is rudely interrupted by his lips trailing kiss down your neck and to your collarbone, where he pauses for a second, catching his breath. Fingers dance through his locks and he peers up at you for a second, drinking in your flushed expression and breathy exhales. 

“Geto, please, I--” You’re silenced again by his lips, his thick fingers rolling past the waistband of your night shorts and right to your core, where he nestles them into your heat with ease. 

“Goddamn…” The rumbling of his voice vibrates against your chest, and you gasp, feeling every stroke of his fingers inside of you. “So fucking wet… just for me.” Your vision narrows in on the black eyes watching your every move, the angle of your face, the way you tilt your chin to the side and shakily exhale. Everything is perfect. Maybe even better than he imagined at first. But you don’t know that, and you really don’t care to know. All you want is release and for that release to be at Geto’s hands. When he removes his fingers and hoists you onto the suede couch, your first reaction is to cry out in shock. 

His hands roll your shorts down to your knees and then press your legs open, spreading you for him to examine. 

“You’re a mess down there… perhaps I should help you clean up.” 

“Huh?” The double entendre is completely lost on you in the heat of the moment. You watch as he leans down, then moves to lick your core with a flat tongue, stroking up before he goes down again and repeats his action twice. Your head finds the soft cushion of the pillow in ecstasy, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. 

Geto hums down below, fully appreciating your taste before sucking on your clit, hard. You yelp, shooting up, but his hand presses you back down, eyes still closed. Fingers make their way up to your breasts, tugging at your nipples leisurely before tightening and pulling with more tension. “Oh, god, please…” Your hands find his head, and at the sudden application of pressure, he grunts again. And you’re left there in agonizing pleasure, dangling between an orgasm and a build-up of pressure, one stroke away from tumbling into the cavern of blissful unawareness. 

Geto stops without warning, pulling back to watch you as he still tweaks your nipples with varying degrees of firmness. You tug at his shorts in a silent plea for him to discard them, and he waits a minute before sliding them off wordlessly. His length is impressive, you note, his cock springing free from his shorts and angled upwards a little. A condom is produced just as quickly, and he rolls it over himself before spreading you a little wider to accommodate his length. When he nudges his cock at your slit, you realise he’s a little breathless and shaking, but that all goes to the back of your mind when he slides inside of you with little resistance. 

“Fuck, doll, that’s--” He groans just as you moan, both of you relishing the expanding feeling. “God, that’s perfect.” You whimper at his praise and bring your hands to his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he begins to pump into you. Geto’s lips find your neck and he sucks a hickey on your left side, placing another one neatly below it while his hands cup your ass. 

“Does that feel good?” He whispers and you nod, completely at a loss for words. But soon, it’s not enough, and your fingers dig into his back. He’s fucking you slowly… too slowly. 

“M-more,” you whine, and he delivers his thrusts faster, pumping into you and moaning loudly. Your fingers find his face and angles it towards your raised head so you can kiss him on the lips. He offers you that mercy - a deep, languid kiss - while he plows into you with abandon. Pleasure is the only thing on your minds - you just so happen to have found it in each other’s arms - and your orgasm is just within reach.

“Geto, I’m close…” His response to your words is to lift your left leg a little higher so it practically hung off the couch and in the air, deeping his strokes until they settled against your cervix, like someone tapping a soft rhythm into your stomach. “Shit, like that.” 

“Yeah?” he exhales, looking at your face with a blissed-out expression, his cheeks reddening. You raise your hips to meet his with each thrust, hoping your orgasm would arrive before Geto came. There isn’t much you can do though, besides writhe beneath him and pull him closer to you, thereby making you and him almost inseparable. He’s merely rocking into your hips now, cock barely rolling out of you as before. And you can’t deny that it feels like heaven, not when you’ve been so frustrated for so long. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Geto hisses into your mouth, and you nod, constricting a little to urge him on. What you fail to realize is that the constriction was just what you need to tumble over into the abyss of thoughtlessness, and your mouth opens to let loose a guttural moan as Geto fucks you faster and faster, chasing his own orgasm on the heels of yours. “Oh, shit,” Your neighbor sinks into you one final time, shooting his cum into the condom, but pumping in stuttered strokes as if he were really letting loose inside of you. 

When you both fall from the heights of your sex-induced high, shoulders and heads are draped where there is comfort and space, little exhales from his mouth fanning across your breasts. Geto lifts off of your sweaty chest and looks you in the eyes before breathing: 

“Maybe I should start my days with this instead of a workout.”

#geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen getou #getou x reader #jujutsu kaisen geto #getou suguru #geto smut #getou smut #jjk smut #jujutsuhub collab

[xpeachesncream]

bands | five

[ series masterlist ]

summary: jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you.

pairing: stripper!reader x idol!jjk

genre: (18+) strip club/nightlife au, post grad au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.2k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, implied nudity/nudity (at the nightclub), teasing, sprinkle of breast touching, alcohol consumption, pole dancing, straddling/lap dances, slight degradation/implied degradation, rough handling, flashback scene

note: took a stab at this jungkook one shot + wips are updated!

tags: @brightcolorsoffendme @min-nicoleee @eggbutnotyolk @ra-mun-e @miinoongi@ephemeralkookie @ppeachyttae @thebeebi @bluesharksandfish @kooafraid @liriaus​ @thisartemisnevermisses​ @ggukkieland​ @preciouschimine​ @sunniejinnie​ (please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

'Do better' is exactly what Jungkook does, because he wants you, and he wants you bad. He thought he had you wrapped around his finger, when in fact, you had him wrapped around yours and he was crumbling by the minute. It's a little entertaining to you, seeing his name pop on your phone throughout the day with texts like:

[jungkook]: have a good day today, pretty lady.

[jungkook]: :)

[jungkook]: can't stop thinking about you and how good you looked last night.

[jungkook]: hope you aren't overworking yourself.

[jungkook]: can i call you tonight?

You would chuckle every single time, seeing him weak for you. You weren't gonna lie - you were fucking weak for him too, cause lord, who wouldn't be with Jungkook? The only difference is that you were just the stronger one between the both of you.

Ha, ain't shit but a hairflip. You for sure got this from your mama.

"To the club for Yoongi hyung's birthday!" Taehyung yells after they finish rehearsals for the next set of performances scheduled to happen in the next week and filming some content for Youtube.

"To the club-club!" Namjoon responds, throwing his hat back on.

"Excited to see some pretty girls shaking their ass and titties in my face." Yoongi lets out a cocky laugh.

"No private show?"

"No, hell no. I want 'em all." Yoongi smirks. "Jungkookie is the only one who loves his private shows."

"Yeah, yeah." Jungkook brushes it off with a chuckle.

"Are we finally gonna figure out who she is tonight?"

"Nope. She's not working tonight. Good try." He feels relieved saying that because to be honest, he's feeling completely and utterly selfish with you. He didn't wanna share, not with the guys. Hell no.

Except he's gonna have to tonight and he has yet to learn that.

» FLASHBACK

Jimin had just solidified the plans with Yoongi a couple of hours ago, learning that he wanted to head to the strip club for his birthday. And yeah, everyone has their own favorites. Everyone has their own agenda coming to the club. But, Yoongi says he wants to shut down the club for the evening so all 7 of them can enjoy the general floor together.

So, Jimin makes it a goal to grant Yoongi's wishes, but he also has another thing on his mind.

He had been picking up on Jungkook's little habits lately, even though he was notorious for always being on his phone and for barely paying attention to the environment around him. Jimin just knew he had it bad for you, miss new girl, simply by how his mood would change whenever he looked at his phone. How he was always at the club. How he always got shy and beat around the bush whenever you were brought up.

He just knew.

And to be honest, he was concerned. Moreso for Jungkook and his safety. Jungkook and his feelings. Things didn't sit right for him, and he worried that you were only out for his money. For his fame. For the attention. For all the wrong things. And he didn't like that shit one bit. He wasn't gonna let anyone take advantage of his little brother like that, he wouldn't give anybody the chance.

He wants to figure out who exactly you were. He wants to find out what you're all about. He wants to finally meet you face to face.

"Mr. Park Jimin!" Mr. Bigs says with a loud laugh. Jimin gives him a small smile as he tugs the brim of his hat down and approaches him. "How can I help you?"

"Yoongi's birthday is coming up at the end of the week, is it possible to shut the club down so the rest of the guys can enjoy the general stage together?" He pulls out an envelope and hands it to Mr.Bigs, his smile getting bigger the more he counts all the dollar bills inside.

"Whatever works for my boys." He laughs.

"Thanks." Jimin chuckles. "Uh, one more thing - if it's not too much of a bother, could I request a specific dancer to be out on the floor that night?"

"Yeah, of course you can. Who's the lady we're thinking of?"

"Whoever Jungkook's lady is." Mr. Bigs laughs so more and nods.

"Ah, I'm assuming he wants her there, huh? He really loves watching that young lady, but hey, whatever works and makes ya'll happy right?"

"Yeah, I suppose he does. I'd like to keep the request between us though." Jimin lies.

"Don't you worry about it. I'll make sure Phoenix is there that night. I'll have all of this covered so Mr. Min Yoongi has a fantastic birthday." He winks.

"Thanks, sir. We'll see you then." Jimin nods his head before heading out. Mr. Bigs waits until Jimin is out the door before pulling out his phone to give you a call.

"Hello?"

"You need to be here Friday, special request."

"From who? Can't I just take the—"

"Stop questioning me little girl, you hear me? Your ass better be here on Friday or else I'm taking a chunk out of your fucking tips and check." He abruptly ends the call.

» END FLASHBACK

And so the infamous Bangtan Sonyeondan boys are dressed, whipping out their cleanest, black attires from their closets. They take a couple of shots back to back before they're loading into their cars to be driven to the strip club. The club is empty, except for a few body guards, bar staff and the dancers.

"Oh shit, we get our own private show? Like actually?" Yoongi says, stepping into the empty club that was more than ready for the boys' arrival. There were topless dancers waiting alongside the stage with trays filled with different drinks and shots.

"Happy birthday, hyung." Jimin says, playfully massaging his shoulder.

"God, this is such a good way to end the day." Namjoon takes a shot from one of the beautiful ladies near the general stage. He smirks at her as he eyes her up and down, licking his lips when he realizes how fucking skimpy the bikini bottom she has on actually is. "Sheesh."

"Boys!" Mr. Bigs' deep voice comes from the other end of the club as he approaches them. "Please, enjoy and help yourself to whatever you like. Happy Birthday, Mr. Min Yoongi." He winks.

"Thank you, sir!" Yoongi yells as he grabs another shot from the tray. The rest of the boys follow suit, taking more drinks and eyeing the ladies around them, but Jungkook helps himself to a seat in the front of the general stage.

"Someone misses his private lady." Hobi jokes, causing him to shake his head.

"Whatever, as long as I don't have to share her with you guys." He spits out. "What's yours is mine and what's mine is mine." Jungkook finishes jokingly with his infamous line. It seems like a full house of dancers tonight, either on the sidelines or now entering the general stage. Jungkook rests his foot on his knee, ready to get the night started so he can enjoy, but also hurry on home afterwards to try and hear your voice.

But you were in the back room of the club.

No one really knew what was going on outside unless you had been outside already. Mr. Bigs gave you all a pep talk saying each and every single one of you needed to be on your best behavior, especially out on the floor. Bigs and his men refused to name the special guests just so none of you would psych yourselves out and mess up. You didn't know you were soon going to be catering to the BTS boys together, and Jungkook didn't know you were going to be one of the main dancers on stage either. His eyes were glazing over the rest of the girls on stage because they weren't you, to be honest. I mean, hell. It's always nice to be around topless, beautiful women. But he had gotten so used to seeing you. Your face. Your body. Touching you. Smelling your strawberry scent.

Jimin situates himself next to Jungkook, the rest of the group aligning themselves along the seats in front of the stage. He eyes Jungkook, taking note of how uninterested and bored he was - so bored that he even caught him trying to hide his yawn. Maybe he was just tired, as with everyone else, but that just meant his special lady friend wasn't out yet.

"You three, up. Now." Bigs says, coming into the backroom from the floor, pointing his finger towards the curtains. "Phoenix, remember. Don't throw no stupid ass attitude out there, playing hard to get like you're some kind of queen." He scoffs in disgust before dismissing the three of you. You roll your eyes, already highly irritated being there since it was originally your day off and no one wanted to give you answers as to why you needed to be there. Mr. Bigs had almost all the dancers out here to tonight, why the fuck would he need you?

The lights are off for a quick second before they dimly shine onto the stage, the music playing loudly in the background. You step onto the stage, your eyes instantly landing on the man front and center.

Jungkook.

You swallow the lump in your throat seeing the rest of the boy band around him, already smirking and licking their lips at the sight of you and the two other dancers on the stage. Jungkook adjusts himself in his seat, fixing his jacket as he sits upright to lean forward onto his knees. His eyes are glued onto you, almost like he's confused as to why you're here right now.

Why you're giving him and his boys a show.

Jimin catches Jungkook's slight uneasiness, his gaze following Jungkook's onto the stage. His eyes were set on you, the pretty lady swirling her body around the silver pole in the middle of the stage.

"She's fucking beautiful." Yoongi says, immediately getting up and reaching into the inner breast pocket of his jacket to pull out some bills. He stands in the front, almost blocking Jungkook's view of you. He catches Yoongi placing a couple of hundreds under the bottom portion of your fishnet bodysuit. The bodysuit that captured your curves so perfectly - thighs thick and full, ass cheeks popping out of the thong portion, your titties and pussy very visible through the fishnet material. God, you were a fucking beauty. Jungkook watches as you squat in front of Yoongi, bouncing up and down before you get up scandalously and shake your ass in front of his eyes. "Ohhhh shit." Yoongi bites onto his bottom lip as he laughs and tucks more bills near your thigh.

"It's his birthday!" Hobi yells, causing you to smirk at Yoongi and grab his hand to let him feel up on your breast. Jungkook shifts in his seat, a little envious of how Yoongi was able to touch you in that way before he was able to. Like fuck? Could it be my birthday too? Could it be my birthday everyday? He was never gonna let this one go. He continues to watch as you push Yoongi back onto his chair and give him a birthday lapdance.

"Happy birthday." You say softly in his ear before getting back up on the stage to do some tricks on the pole.

One, two: Turn upside down.

Three, four: Wrap them legs around.

Five, six: Treat the pole like a slip and slide.

Seven, eight: Flip back up and slide back down.

"Damn, it's my birthday over here too." Jin says tapping his lap and tossing a roll of bills near you before looking over at Taehyung. He's also throwing bills onto the stage, but he's focused on the other main lady off to the side. Still doesn't mean he isn't throwing bills your way either, cause he is every chance he gets to look over at you.

"Like what you see?" Jimin jokes with Jungkook.

"Yeah." Is all he says as he's approaching you. He gives you this look, which you don't understand what it means, but you didn't have the time to decipher it right at this moment. You watch Jungkook closely, his mouth pressed tightly together as his eyes are still scanning your entire body before he brings them back up to meet your eyes. You crawl towards him seductively, your fingers lightly brushing down his neck before you gently tug on his jacket. He doesn't say anything as he tucks bills near your titties, giving you one last look before sitting back down in his seat.

The main show comes to an end pretty quickly afterwards, other dancers making their way to the poles if they wanted or kept serving the boys whatever they needed. You hop off the stage, collecting your bills and folding them tightly together, tucking it deep on the side of your breast to keep it hidden. You head outside to get some air because what the fuck just even happened? You weren't expecting that whatsoever, even though you knew better than that. You should have always thought there would be a chance you'd have to do what you just did. You should have always been prepared.

"Lil mama, you looked good dancing up there in that tiny ass suit you got on." One of the men in Bigs' crew said as they lingered outside the backroom door, smoking cigarettes. "What do you say? Wanna come home with me so I can help get that off?" He smirks, approaching you.

"I'm only out here to get some air, please don't come up to me with all that bullshit." You spit out, causing the guy to furrow his brows at you.

"This one's got a little fire in her." He laughs, coming closer to you. "Whatchu gonna do if I don't take no for an answer, miss thang?" He grips your wrist tightly. You try to break free, but after tonight, you were too fucking tired to even deal with his stupid shit. "Oh, she's weak now?" He grips tighter, making you wince as you try to pry him off. He brings you closer, his face inches away from yours - so close you can smell the smoke and alcohol mixed together, coming off of his breath. Suddenly, you hear someone clear their throat behind them, their attention going from you to the individual. "Oh shit, it's Jeon Jungkook." You watch as the man lets you go, Jungkook standing there with his hands in his pockets and jaw clenched. He doesn't say anything besides nod to acknowledge them. "Big fan, dude."

"The fuck? I had my private show scheduled with Phoenix almost 10 minutes ago. You guys have been holding her up?" Jungkook is obviously throwing on an angry act because you didn't have any private shows booked tonight.

"Shit, my bad. I didn't know—"

"You didn't know cause you were too busy being a jackass?"

"Mr. Jeon, no disrespect here. I'm sorry I took time away from your show. Please, take whatever time you need with her - on me." He says, his friends silently standing by as they throw their cigarettes and go back inside.

"Yeah, it should be on you for fucking wasting my time." Jungkook doesn't say anything else, but he does glare at him until he's almost tripping over himself making his way back inside the club. "You okay?" Jungkook asks, coming closer.

"Yeah. Thanks." You rub your hand up and down your arm, the cold air nipping at your skin.

"I thought you said you weren't working tonight."

"I wasn't supposed to. Bigs just told me I was requested to be here tonight." You raise your eyebrow. "Wait, how did you not know? I thought it was—"

"You thought it was me that requested for you?" He chuckles. "Funny that you think I'd share you with the guys."

"Sooo?"

"I don't know." He shrugs. "Maybe he just wanted his best dancers to be here."

"Hm." You slightly smirk at the compliment. "Best dancers, huh?" He rolls his eyes and playfully sighs.

"Yeah, don't milk it." A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

"You gonna be here all night?"

"Possibly since it's Yoongi's birthday." You nod. He stays silent as he looks at you for a bit, his head slightly cocked to the side.

"So does he get a pass for tonight?" Jungkook chuckles and shakes his head.

"Only cause it's his birthday."

"Mm, not even because he's your senior or anything of the sort?"

"Nah." He smiles a bit. "Not at all. I hope you know I'll never forget it."

"Please, I didn't know Jeon Jungkook was a drama actor, too. What can't he do?" You sarcastically say.

"Okay, say whatever you want." He kicks the dust below his shoes as he lightly chuckles with you. It's silent again, but it's a calming silence. There's no awkward vibes or anything of that matter. You begin to rub your arms again, the cold nipping at your skin harshly. "You should get back inside, it's freezing." He watches you shiver in front of him. He isn't sure if he should hand you his jacket, even if he does want to help you out in the slightest bit, but he figures he shouldn't since you still needed to finish your shift.

"Okay." Your expression softens. "See you in there?" He silently nods, watching your hips sway back and forth until you're deeper in the club. The night doesn't end for everyone until a little bit past 2, close to 3am. You're hauling your tired ass back home, Kai struggling and barely making it alive as soon as you walk through your front door.

"Jesus fuck, thank god." He shuts the TV off and covers his entire body with the blankets.

"Kai, I told you that you didn't have to wait."

"Well until you're out of the club, this is my life now." Why was everyone so dramatic tonight? You chuckle to yourself.

"Okay, if you say so. Night bubba."

"Night." He yawns. In about 2 seconds, he's back to snoring loudly, causing you to laugh to yourself as you get ready for bed.

[jungkook] 3:14am: home?

[y/n] 3:17am: yes. you?

Maybe Kai didn't have to stay up for you after all.

[jungkook] 3:23am: yeah.

[jungkook] 3:24am: i'm assuming you had a really long day today so sleep well, Y/N. can i call you tomorow?

[y/n] 3:20am: you can, i don't know if i'll answer though. :) goodnight jungkook.

And so Jungkook smiles to himself before grabbing a water and heading back to his dorm room. He was slowly getting used to your sarcasm and attitude, being that he has never had to deal with someone being this way towards him. It was fun, and new.

"So was your lady actually there tonight?" Taehyung asks with Jimin sitting next to him.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Jungkook scrunches his nose before turning on his heel to walk away.

"Wow, Jungkookie is being selfish. Namjoon hyung go scold him." Namjoon laughs.

"Jungkookie don't be selfish." Joon says nonchalantly just to keep Taehyung happy.

"Yeah, yeah." He shuts himself in his room to get ready for bed. Jimin silently sits next to Taehyung as they relive the night's events before going to bed. He had seen you and Jungkook talking outside, which only solidifies his assumption.

And he was onto you.

i'm good on that pussy shit; i don't want what i can get, i want someone with secrets that nobody, nobody, nobody knows

track six: gangsta - kehlani

#bts #bts fanfiction #jeon jungkook #jungkook #kook #jeongguk #bts jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts imagines #bts au #bts au fic #bts jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jjk x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #jeon jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook angst #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jeon jungkook series #writing #bands series

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Hollow Pass (Part 1)

Summary: When the reader has to spend a day in the mines for work, she’s less than thrilled. When the miner showing her around for the day, Dean Winchester, is an ass, she’s even less thrilled. But an accident will change all of that and if they want a chance of getting out of the mess they’re in, they’ll need to put their lives in each others hands, literally...

Pairing: Miner!Dean x reader

Word Count: 4,100ish

Warnings: language, injury, frightening/claustrophobic/near death situations

A/N: Please enjoy the first of this 2 parter!

_______

You sighed as you stood in the trailer of the manager’s office, a jumpsuit and a pair of boots sat in a chair. Your boss, bless his heart, thought it was always a good idea for corporate positions to experience a day in the mines to truly understand the product and what the little guy went through on a day to day basis. The argument that you were not really corporate, not even close, seemed to go over his head.

“Y/N, you gonna change? I need my office back,” said the manager through the door. You pulled it open and pouted. “I don’t want you going down in the mines anymore than you do but if you want to make corporate, you gotta do what the CEO says.”

“Dad I don’t even want to work there. I like my simple office job.”

“Then why have you been in all those development programs at work?” he asked. You shrugged and he sighed. “Cause you can’t say no.”

“Do I have to?” you asked, looking back at the overalls.

“Do you want to quit?” he asked.

“I don’t want to lose a good paycheck. But I don’t want a corporate job either,” you said. 

“Then you’re shit outta luck,” he said. “I’m gonna put you with the Winchester boy. He’s on safety checks in our most secure mines.”

“You mean the ones that never have problems.”

“Funny how that all coincidentally happened today of all days,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks dad.”

“I don’t want you going anywhere near explosives. You’ll be safe doing the checks with Dean for the day.”

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you said twenty minutes later. The man in overalls and a hard hat rolled his eyes.

“I’m ten minutes late because of you which means I’m gonna get docked those ten minutes of pay so thank you little miss corporate.”

“I’m your boss’ daughter, jackass.”

“Still ain’t my boss,” he said. You huffed and headed over towards the mine entrance when he grabbed the back of your overalls. “No, dummy. You have zero safety gear so unless you want to die, you’re coming with me.”

“Asshole.”

“Dean Winchester at your service,” he said, dragging you over with him to some lockers. He punched a card and went to the storage racks, seemingly grabbing a few items and putting them on. He picked the hard hat off your head and grabbed one with a light and a wire attached to it, clipping it on your belt. He put something over your shoulder you put your arm through like a sling and clipped a mask onto the back of your belt, a flashlight and a small hand pickaxe going through your other loops. “Turn this lamp on anytime you’re in the mine and never, ever, take off your hat. If I yell at you or you smell something funny, get that mask on. Flashlight and the axe are backup for emergencies.”

He put a radio in your pocket and looked you over.

“Oh and for the love of God, do not wander off. I don’t care if you see a bug or break a nail or gotta piss.”

“What do you do if you have to…” you said.

“Normally you piss against some rock like a man but special manager’s daughter we’ll walk you back out here, take our slow ass time, make me go longer than my shift and because I was late today, I don’t get overtime.”

“That sounds kinda illegal.”

“The contracts for this company are a fucking nightmare,” he said, walking out of storage.

“Why work here then?” you asked as he went to an area and grabbed a clipboard. He took two water bottles and clipped them on each of your belts before whistling for you to follow after.

“Well somebody had to pay for his baby brother to go to law school and it wasn’t going to be my drunk of a father now was it,” said Dean, stopping and writing something down. 

“So you didn’t grow up with mining in your family?” you asked.

“No. I’m not some redneck hillbilly like you imagine either,” he said. He flipped on his light and turned yours on when you got to the mine entrance. “Crouch.”

“Huh?”

“We ain’t riding the cart which is missing, dumbass. Crouch down so you can fit in the tunnel,” he said. You swallowed and had to bend down some, following Dean closely. “Ain’t claustrophobic are ya cause now’s the time to tell me.”

“No,” you said. “Jerk.”

“Ah, see? We’re getting along already.”

You walked for five or so minutes before the ground sloped down further and an entrance to the right opened up. Dean straightened up and you did the same, stretching out as he grabbed the back of your jumpsuit.

“Dude, would you stop doing that?” you said.

“Would you stay in my line of sight?”

“That’s harassment. You can’t touch me without my permission,” you said, crossing your arms. He blinked a few times and rolled his eyes quite possibly the most dramatically you’d ever seen in your life.

“This? This is not an office building. Every single time you step in here you run the risk of dying and you have zero clue on how to stay safe down here. I hate it when you people with your big offices and penny pinching bullshit come down here and complain about every goddamn little thing. If you want out, get out of the fucking mining business.”

“You’re an irritable person,” you said. He grumbled and tugged you along with him until you brushed him off. You followed him down a hallway and another, Dean checking things off on his clipboard as he went. “Are you gonna explain any of this stuff?”

“What do you think?” he said. He whistled and you followed him down a few more hallways when he stopped a gauge looking contraption. He checked a few different numbers and valves on it as you spun around. 

“I guess it is kinda cool. That somehow you guys know how to block up rocks and leave all these cracks and know how to make it so it doesn’t all come crashing down.”

“Cracks?” he asked as he squatted down and read off a meter.

“Yeah like that big one,” you said, pointing at the wall across the way. He turned around and looked at it for barely a second before he grabbed your arm. 

“Move. Now,” he said. He pulled out his radio and pressed down the button. “We have a grade five crack in Lodge Six West. Do not blow. I repeat do not-”

The ground rumbled and you heard a splintering noise, Dean pushing you back into the hallway you’d been in. He jumped on top of you and covered your body with his, all the lights going out, a loud thundering of falling rocks happening close by. It seemed to go on and on before it finally stilled, the hallway pitch black.

“You alright?” he asked.

“I think so,” you said, coughing when you felt dust in the air.

“Don’t move,” he said. He lifted his head and there was some light, Dean looking around before climbing off of you and staring at a new wall of rock. He looked at the hallway you’d been in, clicking on his flashlight and you saw where the rock dropped off about a hundred feet away. “Well. Shit.”

“What just happened?”

“The rock was unstable and they already set off the charges and it shook the mountain so now there’s a giant hole over there and our exit is blocked.”

“What’s that way?” you asked, nodding down the only unobstructed hallway.

“Further down into the mine before you hit the decommissioned area.”

“Is there a way out,” you asked, Dean patting his side.

“Fuck. My radio is under all that,” he said. He took out yours and handed it to him, Dean nodding before he turned it on. “Main do you copy, over?”

There was silence on the other end and Dean hit the button again.

“Main this is Winchester in Lodge Six West with…what’s your name?” he asked.

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Y/N Y/L/N, manager’s kid. Copy, over.”

“Winchester this is Main. We got lots of calls coming in from ground crews about a shaking.”

“Lodge Six West Hall K is a giant crater of death and Hall H is buried, right up to the entrance of junction HJ.”

“Injuries?”

“We’re okay,” said Dean.

“Give me a second.”

Dean took a deep breath and coughed. He tapped your mask on your belt and you put it on, the air a bit easier to breath. 

“Winchester this is Melvin.”

“She’s okay, boss. Just a little shook up. Saved our asses from winding up in the ground even if she doesn’t know it yet,” he said. He held out the radio and you pulled down the mask. 

“Dad I’m fine, really. We both are. It’s just kinda dark and smelly is all.”

“I know. Put your mask on sweetie until you can get to some cleaner air,” he said. You put it back on, Dean, getting to his feet. He pulled you up and looked back at your blocked path. 

“Any other collapses?” asked Dean.

“None reported so far. Everyone should be out of the mine’s or on their way. Alarm is blasting.” You looked back at Dean, his eyes shutting.

“Melvin we can’t hear it. At all.”

“Rodney’s out checking where our side of the collapse starts. We’ll get you out,” he said, someone panting in the background.

“Hall B, Mel,” he said. Dean turned away from you and sighed. No one said anything for a long time until Dean finally raised his head.

“We got two 16 ounces bottles of water. If she rations it, she’s got a shot,” said Dean quietly.

“No, she doesn’t,” said your dad, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “How long does your radio have?”

“Mine got crushed. Hers was on a quarter charge. I’d guess maybe an hour or two tops,” he said.

“Should we call your brother?”

“He’s hiking in Glacier Park this week. No cell service,” said Dean quietly. “Just tell him to check my bottom desk drawer. There’s something for him there.”

“I can do that,” he said. “Is there anyone...parents-”

“All due respect sir, I’d rather you talk to your daughter,” he said. Dean held out the radio to you and you picked it up, Dean skirting around the corner to the one unblocked hallway.

“Dean?” you asked, following over there. He was leaned against the wall and looked over his shoulder at you. “What’s going on?”

“They can’t dig us out in time.”

“What do you mean-”

“Talk to your dad. You’re wasting time. That battery won’t last forever,” he said. He turned back and you walked back around the corner, sitting down against the wall.

“Hi dad,” you said.

“Hey,” he said, his voice shaky. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “Mom’s on her way down to talk, okay? She’ll be here in ten minutes.”

“I so quit this job,” you said, wiping off your eyes with the back of your hand. He laughed and you threw your head back. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I’m gonna stay on the line as long as I can, okay?”

“Okay. Okay.”

Two Hours Later

The battery in the radio had died about fifteen minutes ago. There was no sound aside from your sniffling and Dean’s down the hall. You got up eventually and went into the hall, sitting down beside him. You handed him the radio and he clipped it back on his belt.

“You okay?” you asked, voice hoarse.

“You try listening to someone say goodbye to their parents and not bawl,” he said. He wiped off his face and took a deep breath. “Air’s better now at least.”

“What do we do now?”

“Now,” he said, clipping his water bottle onto your belt. “You sit there and try not to exert a lot of energy and that water will last you a few days.”

“We both heard my father. They can’t drill or dig or do anything fast enough. It’d take weeks. I’m not sitting here next to your dead ass so take your damn water back,” you said, shoving it back in his chest. He didn’t speak but put it on his belt, pulling his knees into his chest. “Why were you so mean to me before? You gave up time on the phone for me. I don’t think you’re what you pretend to be.”

“I’m a dead man walking and that’s a fact.”

“Technically you’re sitting.”

He smiled and rested his face in his knees. He sat up and reached over behind you, hitting off your headlight.

“We need to conserve power as long as possible,” he said.

“Will our lights go out before we dehydrate to death?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said. “This is what it’ll be like.”

He flipped off his lamp and you swore you’d never experienced a darkness so deep. You felt his hand graze yours before holding it and you swallowed.

“Kinda less scary knowing you can turn it back on again,” he said.

“You didn’t answer my question. Why such a brute?”

“You do this job long enough and most people think you’re a dumb sack of shit with nothing in his head. You’re dead weight, odds are you’ll die down here or get into some kind of accident and have to go on disability the rest of your life. You corporate people are always so stuck up, like I’m not even good enough to be the dirt on your shoes. I didn’t give you a chance because odds were you were like all the rest of them. You’re the only reason we didn’t die in that hole, very painfully.”

“Wouldn’t we have-”

“No. It’s not a simple hole we would have fell in. Falling rocks, crushing and hitting, landing on you, ones you hit yourself. Might not kill you immediately. You’d feel it.”

“Dying of thirst is better?”

“I’d say so. Still get to keep this handsome face, or what’ll be left of it,” he said. He flipped his light back on and you scooted closer. “I think you’re very attractive.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m gonna die in like three or four days. Life has no consequences now and I happen to find you very attractive and you seem like a smart, sweet woman that put her parents a little at ease during the worst moment of their lives.”

“Who’s your brother?” you asked. “No consequences after all.”

“He’s a lawyer...and my best friend.”

“You said you did this job for him.”

“Student debt is a bitch. I try to help him out and the overtime helps make dents in it,” he said. “Our parents had debt out their asses. It caused so many problems for us. I wanted him safe, never have to worry about the next meal on the plate or the roof over his head or having to wear my hand me downs ever again. At least he’ll get my life insurance policy. That should help.”

“I have been busting my ass since I was a college freshman in that office to move up the chain for a job I didn’t even want. I completely lost nearly all of my twenties to work. All so I could die in here.”

“Well I know this doesn't sound good but I’m glad I didn’t die all super painful. Or that I’ll be alone,” he said. You smiled and nodded, Dean returning it. “Got any bucket list shit we can pull off down here?”

“We could make out,” you said. “Never knew anyone could make that jumpsuit look good.”

“Why the fuck not,” he chuckled. He leaned in close and your helmets bonked, Dean pulling his off and yours, quickly cupping your face. 

His lips were gentler than you thought, the two of you stopping when your lips were pressed together. You rested your forehead against his and broke off only an inch.

“Not as much fun at the moment as it sounded,” you breathed out.

“Pretty good last kiss though,” he said. You put your helmets back on and you grabbed his hand again. 

“Don’t let go down here. Please.”

He reached to his belt and undid a little pouch, pulling out a small tether of rope. He clipped one end onto him and the other to you.

“For when the lights go out,” he said.

“How long do we got?”

“About a day, maybe a little more,” he said. You sighed and turned your head, staring down the rest of the hall. “It’s decommissioned, Y/N. It’s a death trap.”

“Is there a way out?” you asked.

“Maybe. Maybe they never find us though,” he said. You stared at him and he nodded, hitting your headlamp back on. “Enough of the pity party. Let’s go get out of here or die trying.”

He stood and held out a hand, hoisting you to your feet. 

“So. What’s our best option?” you asked.

“It’s alright for a bit until we get to the decommissioned section. When we get there, that’s when it gets dangerous. Technically it’s dangerous now considering the blast but we’re okay for a bit,” he said. 

“Let’s go then,” you said. He nodded and you followed him down the hall, walking side by side. 

“Alright so the decommissioned section is called Hollow Pass. Beyond that is Upper Seven. If we can get to Upper Seven, we can get out the old entrance I’m pretty sure. Never been in there but hopefully it’s not a maze over there.”

“So Hollow Pass is the hard part.”

“Yeah.”

“Why was it decommissioned?”

“Unstable ground. Holes, pockets of air, rotted support beams, wood planks.”

“So it’s a death trap.”

“Yup,” he said. “We’re probably gonna die down there.”

“What do you think our odds are?”

“Well it’s been out of order for over fifty years, we have no map, I have no real idea where exactly to go...I give us 1% odds.”

“Beats are 0% odds here.”

“Good way to think about it considering we’re going to most likely die.” He stopped walking and took a deep breath. “If I fall or whatever, follow the widest hall possible and keep away from wood and cracks as best as possible. Ration your water and eventually you’ll find your way out.”

“If you fall I’m definitely not gonna make it.”

“Well at least try. You can tell my brother how devastatingly brave I was that way.”

“You just spent the past hour crying.”

“So did you,” he said. You bumped his shoulder and he returned it but it was playful and soft. You walked together quietly for a moment until Dean rounded a corner and took a deep breath.

There were a few planks across a hallway, Dean kicking them down, frowning when they broke pretty easily.

“There’s gonna be rot.”

“Lovely.”

“We don’t have to go,” he said. “You don’t have to. There’s a chance-“

“There’s no chance Dean. Not if we stay up there. If you don’t want to go, I will. Maybe I can get help back in-“

“We’re doing this together or you’re staying. I can go and you-“

“We both go,” you said. 

“I go first. You step where I step and if I tell you to do anything, you do it.”

“Dean. We already established that you’re not a hardass. You can lead the way but you know, nicely.”

“Alright, alright,” he said. He gave more slack in the rope attached to the two of you and took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

He was calm for a few minutes until you were turning down a hallway, Dean suddenly stopping in front of you.

“What is it?” you asked.

“Look,” he said. You poked your head around him, swallowing at the rotted wood on the ground, holes worn into the planking. “Y/N that’s not good. Rot means there’s water and water means erosion and erosion means big shafts hundreds of feet straight down under those wood planks.”

“How much of it is wood?” you asked. You both looked ahead and sighed, the whole hall flooring covered in wood. “Shit.”

“Y/N. This is too dangerous. I’ve worked in mines since I was 18 and it’s way too dangerous.”

“Dean. I don’t want to die. If we don’t do anything, we’re dead in three days, maybe less.”

“Maybe they come up the decommissioned mine and get us,” he said. 

“Dean. The mountain collapsed from what my dad said. They are not coming in here, risking even more lives, in this mine. It might even have collapsed on the other side on the way out. We don’t know. All we do know is we stay and we’re dead or we go and we’re maybe dead.”

“You still won’t let me go on ahead on my own to try to get some help?”

“You’re not leaving me alone,” you said. You stepped ahead and he yanked on the rope, pulling you back. “Dean. Stop.”

“I go first,” he said. You held up your hands and he swallowed, Dean stepping past you, carefully putting his weight down on each plank. “Follow. Every footstep exactly where mine go.”

You followed after, the only sounds your breathing and the occasional board creaking. Dean put a foot down and stopped moving forward when you heard snapping. 

“Go back. Slowly.”

You stepped a foot backwards, putting weight on it and your foot going straight through. Dean grabbed your arm as you pulled your foot up, a few sticks falling into a deep dark pit. 

“What do we do,” you breathed out.

“Well we’re over rock that fell away so there’s a big hole beneath us if the rotted wood is anything to go by,” he said. You heard the slight waiver in his voice and sighed. “We make a choice. Forwards or backwards.”

“Back looks bad. Plus we already probably broke the supports.”

“I think solid ground is in front. But I have to jump for it,” he said. You looked past him and shook your head. 

“Dean, it's way too far. I can try to walk over there if you let out the rope. I get to solid ground and then you walk and if you fall, I got you with the rope.”

“Sweetheart, there’s no way.”

“You’re too heavy and we can’t stay here,” you said. You slipped past him and he tried to grab you but you went quickly. “Dean let out the rope. Now.”

“Fuck. We’re gonna die.”

“No we’re not,” you said, walking quickly, planks creaking but you sighed when you had solid rock under your feet again. “Alright. Just go where I did and fast.”

He took a deep breath and walked a few steps, a loud groaning of the wood making him move faster.

You hit the ground the second you saw him go down, the wood breaking away. Dean shouted and you dug your heels into the dirt. 

“Y/N!” he said, falling straight down into a hole and out of view.

_____

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #dean #winchester #dean spn #miner!dean #au #dean x you #Dean Winchester one shot

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part VIII

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~13.2k

Warnings: this one fucking hurts, pining, stupid decisions, miscommunications, explicit sexual content (it’s time for something we’ve been waiting for), yet another party, angst A/N: Read this, but before you murder me remember there’s one more after this. Also, this isn’t the big thing you’ve been waiting for, but I know it’s something a lot of people have wanted to see. Enjoy this ouchie. 

Mike doesn’t feel human when he wakes up. He’s nearly positive he no longer is—body taken over by some creature of the bog with toxic breath. Jesus, what the fuck happened last night?

 Blinking hurts. Shifting his leg hurts. His chest is fucking killing him, feels like he bruised his god damn sternum, and when he moves to sit up in a bed that is not his, overwhelming nausea has Mike groaning and covering his mouth with one hand. 

 “He has risen,” a vaguely familiar baritone voice rings through the air, loud enough to make Mike wave his other hand in an attempt to mute it. Erwin chuckles, paying him no attention apparently as he speaks again, “Good timing, too. I just came to drop this off.”

 Mike tries to focus his bleary eyes on the nightstand where his friend sets down a bottle of water, a bigger bottle of Gatorade, and several liquid gel pills. 

 “Chill here for as long as you need. I’m just watching the pledges clean downstairs. Want me to bring the trash can over?” Erwin’s concern can’t entirely hide the amusement in his voice. It’s irritating, but also… Mike needs that trash can.

 “Yeah,” he croaks through his palm. “Thanks.”

 Erwin nods and grabs the little plastic bin, setting it down next to the bed. Mike considers just picking it up and sitting with it in his lap, but he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stay upright for long enough.

 “I’ll be downstairs. If you need anything, you’ll just have to yell because your phone is definitely sitting in a bag of rice in the kitchen right now.”

 “What?” Mike frowns. How even…

 “It got wet,” Erwin states, like that clarifies anything. “Probably in the shower.”

 “Why was I—”

 “We can talk about it when you’re less…” Erwin gestures to Mike’s face with one finger and grimaces as he finishes, “Green. You didn’t do anything too terrible, though, so you can rest easy.”

 He leaves, and Mike chokes down the pills and a few gulps of water before gently laying back down. He has to retrace metaphorical footsteps to get to the last thing he remembers from the night before, and it’s body shots off some blonde clone. His order of events goes: hanging out with Rhi, talking with you and Erwin, Zeke showing up, catching Eren mid-roofie attempt and throwing him out, getting mad at Nile, and then just a lot of drinking. Too much. Of different kinds. That had been dumb. 

 He thinks he spent a little while in the bathroom. Erwin was there. And, Nile came and went. He thinks he may have heard your voice a few times but can’t be sure, and honestly, trying to recall anything from the period of time his brain was literally incapable of processing new memories is a pretty big waste of time.

 Mike spends most of the day in Erwin’s room. He drifts in and out of restless sleep, waking up to drink his water and Gatorade. At some point, one of the kids, Jean, knocks on the door and drops a bowl of soup off, mumbles, “Erwin told me to bring this up here.” Mike hasn’t spent a ton of time around the current pledge class, but Erwin must like Jean if he trusted the kid enough to give him his room code. 

 The soup settles his stomach enough to move around a little more. His headache ebbs into a dull throb, and the sharp ache in his chest fades into that of a bruise. By around five o'clock, Mike is finally able to amble downstairs, give everyone a tired wave, mumble his thanks to Erwin, then drive himself to his apartment. 

 He's still trying to piece together what happened the night before, but he just ends up more confused than before, so he decides to put it behind him and move on. Everyone deserves a wild night every once in a while. 

 *

 Thanksgiving nears. Mike has already made plans to go home to his parents which means he has to turn down the Pike house Friendsgiving offer that Erwin extends to him. 

 He tells Mike that Nile and Hitch will be there, but Marie might show her face, "So, that will be interesting." 

 Some of the brothers who can't make it home will attend. Erwin is bringing Maddie who Mike hasn't heard about in several months, but he's pretty sure that's just to throw him off the scent of whatever Erwin has going on with you. You, who will also be in attendance because apparently your mom opted to go on a girls trip instead of face the family. Mike can't blame her. 

 He thinks maybe he should reach out to you, to ask about the night he blacked out because he has a feeling you can give him some details that others can't, but Erwin assures Mike that you were only in the bathroom with him for a short time. "Just long enough to see you rip your shirt which she seemed a little too happy about."

 Mike doesn't know what he'd say to you anyway. Even after learning that Zeke had blocked his number in your phone. He's still mad that you let the fucker get close enough to do that in the first place, that you had chosen him. It's a wound that just won't heal. Any time he sees you or hears your name, all Mike can think about is why he wasn't good enough. 

 So, he keeps distancing himself. It seems like the most appropriate thing he can do until he decides he'll be able to have a conversation with you without blowing up. 

 Mike's parents are happy to see him when he walks in the door. Scout jumps on him until he picks her up and holds her like the puppy she is not. He isn't surprised when his mom asks about you, if you and Mike sorted things out. The question hurts even if he was expecting it, seems like yesterday you were walking around the house like you'd always been a part of it. 

 Lying is the easiest path to take. He tells his parents that you had to go home for the break, that you couldn't split up your time between two families in just four days, and, of course, they buy it. 

 Thanksgiving day is nice enough. The family travels a couple cities over to Mike's aunt and uncle's house. It's much bigger, has room for the relatives that are able to make it. There are traditional Greek dishes as well as the usual turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, etc. A few pictures here and there, entertaining his younger cousins—it's a good time. 

 Until Mike checks his various social media apps and sees the pictures from Friendsgiving.

 They're tame, nothing wildly inappropriate, but they still make Mike scowl as he thumbs through them. 

 One of Nile cutting into the turkey, of Reiner ripping into a drumstick, Connie hoarding all of the cranberry sauce while his best friend, a girl named Sasha, does the same with the deviled eggs. Gelgar looks to be crying with a dot of potato salad in his hair. Marie is indeed there, glaring in the background of a photo where Nile and Hitch are tapping beer bottles together with silly smiles. She looks much happier in the shot of her and Maddie sitting together, laughing over glasses of wine. 

 Mike's heart stutters when he gets to a photo of you aiming to toss food into Reiner's mouth, then of you and Erwin both holding beers in one hand and pointing matching finger guns with the other.

 Thick as fucking thieves. Two peas in a god damn pod. Mike wants to throw his phone out the window of his dad's suburban. 

 There are several more pictures that Mike doesn't bother to look at. He'd like to have a good time with his parents for the remainder of his break, and there's no way he'll be able to do that if he's pissed off. 

 So, he distracts himself. He goes on walks with Scout and plays with her for hours, watches old movies with his mom and dad, calls a couple relatives from overseas to catch up. But, those pictures are seared into the back of his mind, surfacing whenever he has down time. 

 He doesn't have any desire to go back to campus, not if he's gonna see you and Erwin together. His friend can deny it all he wants, but Mike knows something is going on between the two of you, and as he drives back to the college, he finally has the realization that… you might just be a shitty person. 

 Yeah, you have issues, but so does everyone. It doesn't excuse you from—from fucking toying with people, from using them as puppets whenever you need to. Mike wishes he'd never even tempted you to sleep with him that last time. It had felt too good and too right, but apparently you don't feel the same way. You went right back to Zeke once you'd gotten what you wanted, and Mike should have seen that coming. He should have been prepared for it. On some level he knew that's what you'd do, but that never stopped him from hoping that maybe… maybe it would have opened your eyes. 

 Plus, it ruined the entire Jurassic Park franchise for him, so that sucks. 

 He picks up where he left off both in his classes and in his social life. He stays away from PKA as much as he can but still attends meetings when necessary. The lacrosse season is coming to an end, so he tries to make the most of it. Rhi ends up in his bed again, both of them taking what they can from each other. Erwin jokes that he's gonna fall in love with her— "You know what happened the last time you tried to keep it casual," —and Mike nearly decks him in the face. 

 You don't try to talk to him, no texts or calls. When you see each other on campus, you don't spare him more than a sad glance as you pass him. 

 Mike is fine with it. He isn't about to be the one to make the move to talk things out. Honestly, he doesn't know if there's anything to talk out. You dated Zeke, and now you're dating Mike's best friend and trying to hide it. 

 He's mad at both of you, but it's easier to channel that blistering anger toward you rather than Erwin who he has to see on a regular basis. Besides, Erwin has always gotten around. Mike isn't especially surprised that he'd try his hand with you especially after what happened at the ranch house, but fuck, couldn't he have waited until after he and Mike graduated or something? Just disrespectful. That's what it is. 

 *

 "Bro, I do not wanna go to another party," Mike's voice rises in frustration. "Consider me partied the fuck out, okay? I'm tired of 'em."

 "It's not even a party," Erwin tells him. "It's more like a gathering of… like-minded individuals."

 Mike snorts. "Yeah, okay." 

 "I'm not kidding! Like, twelve people at the most. All we're doing is hanging out at the ranch house."

 "Will there be drinking?" Mike questions, moving his head back and forth in a mocking way. 

 Erwin shrugs his shoulders where he sits. "Of course there'll be drinking, but you don't have to partake. I just want you there to chill. Come on, man."

 "Who's going?"

 The blond lists off some of the Friendsgiving group, but he doesn't get to finish because once Erwin utters your name, Mike cuts him off with a loud, "Nope!"

 "Duuuude," Erwin sounds like the frustrated one now, not that he has any right to be. 

 "Don't dude me! Why the fuck would you think I'd have any interest in watching you two giggle and cuddle n' shit."

 "Mike," Erwin groans, rubbing his forehead. "How many times do I have to tell you…"

 "You don't have to tell me anything. I already know what I need to know."

 Standing up, Erwin seems like he's at his wit's end when he barks, "You don't know shit! You're seeing what you want to see without asking either of us! She misses you, dude. I'm just the next best thing."

 "Nice to know your dick game isn't better than mine at least," Mike grumbles. 

 "Jesus Christ, you know what? I don't care. Come to the house, or don't come. Whatever."

 Erwin takes long strides to get to Mike's front door, obviously ready to get away from him. He slams it hard enough to make Mike flinch. 

 He doesn't care how annoyed Erwin is with him. It's partially his fault that Mike doesn't want to go to the gathering, and he should know that. He'll come to understand eventually, and that thought makes it easier for Mike to make his decision. He's not gonna go. He refuses. There's no way. He won't—

 Mike ends up going. 

 After powering through finals and visiting his parents for another few days. He has a mental debate the entire way to the ranch house, swearing to himself, going over the pros and cons. He comes close to turning around more than a few times, but after a couple hours, Mike finally pulls into the large circle drive right behind Levi's black Prius. 

 Erwin is extremely surprised to see him but keeps his mouth closed about it, just tells him, "Room upstairs on the far right is still open."

 Mike drops his stuff off then greets the others—Nile, Gelgar, Reiner, Jean, Marco, and Levi. 

 "Wasn't expecting to see you here," the last states, focused on burning the loose string of his hoodie with a lighter. "Erwin told me you guys had some bullshit argument."

 "Happens sometimes," Mike dismisses as he takes a place on the couch. 

 "I guess. This is why I don't have a lot of friends. Can't put up with stupid shit like that."

 "Oh, is that why?" Mike rolls his eyes. 

 Levi snickers, shaking his head. "Aw man, he was right. You are in a bad mood, aren't ya'? 

 "Man, fuck off."

 They sit in silence for a few minutes. Mike is bouncing his foot where it's thrown over his opposite leg—anxious or angry or some other negative emotion he needs to get rid of. 

 "Party's gonna be a fucking sausage fest," Levi mumbles. 

 Nile passes behind the couch just in time to hear and informs the smaller man, "Not entirely. Maddie, Marie, Hitch, and Mike's little heartbreaker should be getting here soon."

 Mike groans internally but speaks out loud, "This was a mistake. I can't fucking be here if you guys keep talking about her."

 "If you can't handle us talking about her, how're you gonna handle seeing her?" Levi scoffs. 

 Erwin has stocked the bar with craft beer and various wines. Mike considers going ahead and breaking a few bottles open, but he resists—doesn't want a repeat of the forgotten party. 

 They set up a horror video game upstairs and an animated adult series downstairs. Erwin wasn't lying about it being a more relaxed environment than usual, but that doesn't stop Mike's neck from prickling when you arrive with Hitch at around five. Maddie and Marie show up a couple hours later, and Mike can feel the tension that surrounds all four of you. Amusing as it can be, he really doesn't have the patience for cattiness tonight. 

 High quality Chinese food is provided courtesy of Erwin's father's credit card as well as dipped strawberries that Nile keeps feeding Hitch. It gets Marie very heated very quickly, and Maddie has to talk her down in another room. 

 It makes Mike wonder if you would ever let him feed you like that or if you would snort and bat his hand away. What the fuck do you think you're doing, Zacharias? That's couples shit.

 It makes him sigh and slouch on the couch, thankful you're upstairs watching Connie play the most recent Resident Evil. 

 He knows you're not a fan of horror, so the only reason you'd be up there is to avoid Mike. 

 Good. 

 Erwin is the first to open the wine. Maddie won't leave his side, stuck to him like a magnet. The fact that he has to get a drink only furthers Mike's theory that Erwin didn't invite her as a real date. 

 He spends a fair amount of time shooting the shit with Levi. It isn't necessarily the most enjoyable conversation considering Levi's constant smartass comments, but it's better than trudging up to the second floor. 

 Nile fucks Hitch in the bathroom for everyone to hear. Marie starts crying and runs to the porch. This gathering is about as insufferable as Mike assumed it would be. 

 Eventually, you journey downstairs. It was inevitable. You spare Mike a glance and sigh as you make your way to the kitchen to grab a beer—you don't even like beer, so why—

 "Hey, can you grab me one too?" Erwin calls out, and when you hand it to him, he gives you that hundred watt grin Mike knows brings girls to their knees, but while Maddie stares at him with that dreamy look in her eyes, you just snort and gently shove him. 

 "Don't fuckin' look at me like that, Smith."

 Ah, the last name card, the one that you pull to act like you're all aloof when really you're just reeling them in. 

 "Like what?" Erwin asks before taking a sip, still smiling around the rim of the bottle. 

 "You know what."

 Mike chooses then to go upstairs, knowing he steals your attention as he stomps like a toddler throwing a tantrum. 

 Why did he even come here? Was it just to give himself more reason to brood? Solidify that he's valid in being angry? 

 Connie is trembling as his character makes his way through a decrepit house. Jean laughs every few minutes, but he also startles at every jump scare, leaving Reiner to call both of them pussies as he bites into strawberry after strawberry, throwing the stems into a little bowl in his lap. Mike supposes the first years are entertaining enough. He can see why Erwin invited them here. 

 It's close to nine o'clock. Mike is bored out of his mind, can't help venturing back downstairs mostly because he's tired of watching the pledges swear and shout at the video game (including Reiner now) but also out of morbid curiosity. 

 Marie has returned and is sitting in the kitchen with Maddie, both of whom are glaring into the den where you, Erwin, Nile, and Hitch share the couch. Hitch may as well be in Nile's lap, but you're sitting on the back ridge, feet planted on the cushions as you hunch forward and nurse a beer. Your knee is against Erwin's arm, but that's the only point of contact. Still, whenever something funny is said on the TV show, he looks up at you, as if to check that you're laughing, taking it in. Mike can't blame him. You have one of the cutest laughs he's ever heard. 

 Levi and Gelgar are both on plush loveseats on opposite sides of the room, either scrolling or typing on their phones. 

 Again, Mike has to think about how laid back the party is—even if he's a mess. It's so different from the raucous scenes he's used to—blasting music and keg stands and dancing on tables. This would be infinitely preferable if it weren't for the open pit in Mike's stomach. 

 If he could just chill the fuck out, pay absolutely no attention to you and Erwin and the way his fingers slowly wrap around your ankle when you won't stop bouncing your leg. 

 Not together his ass. 

 When Mike gets a text from Rhi, he basically sighs in relief—the perfect opportunity to forget about you for a while. 

 He doesn't bother asking to make sure it's okay with the host, just messages back, what are you doing rn? and immediately asks her to come over, knowing she only lives about an hour away. 

 Naturally, she agrees. One of the only great things about Rhi is that she’s always, always down to fuck. Mike doesn’t know if it has something to do with his size or if she just has a high sex drive. Either way, he’s glad for it.. 

 He meets her on the porch after waiting for what feels like an eternity, just having to sit and watch you kick Erwin’s thigh whenever he says something dumb. He always retaliates by pulling on your little toes which makes you squeak and almost fall off the couch. It’s fucking maddening, makes Mike want to pull his hair out or throw something, just trash the fucking house because Erwin deserves it. 

 But, then Rhi arrives in all her Ugg boot glory, wearing the old, green hoodie that you had given back to Mike a few months ago.

 They walk in, Mike’s hands on her shoulders like he’s pushing her over the threshold. You look up, take the other girl in, then very quickly step off the couch and prance into the kitchen without saying a word.

 Erwin, however, makes up for your silence, wide eyed as he stares at Rhi and utters, “Fuck.”

* You didn’t want to be like Maddie and Marie, jogging to a private place to cry over a fucking boy, but god, you are definitely locked in the bathroom, hunched over the sink sobbing as quietly as you can. Your nose is running, and your eyes are burning, leaking god damn rivers

 It wouldn’t have been so bad if she was just in her normal winter sorority get-up. But the hoodie? The one you wore for months on end, the one Mike would sniff whenever he would lay his head on your stomach, mumbling something about, “Smells good. Might have to take it back.” He didn’t have to say it out loud, but you knew he always felt a little jolt of pride when you’d wear it, like you were advertising how close you were to him.

 So, to see another girl wearing it—to see Rhi wearing it—it fucking hurts. Your throat is sore from holding back those loud, pained cries. Your stomach is rolling like you ate something spoiled. Your fingers ache from digging into the fancy, granite sink. Everything hurts. 

 It makes you wonder if Mike felt like this when you first told him about Zeke, if he feels like this now that he thinks you’re with Erwin—stupid, stupid, stupid. You shouldn’t have waited so long to talk to him. You should have cleared things up right after the party. Now, it’s too late. 

 There’s a knock on the door that makes you sniff and wipe your nose, but you still tell whoever is on the other side (most likely Hitch or Erwin), “Go away.”

 “It’s me.” Erwin. "Let me in."

 "Literally what did I just say?" 

 "If you don't unlock the door, I'll kick it in. It's my house, so I won't get in trouble for it."

 "Oh my god," you grumble before turning the lock on the knob. "Spoiled fucking brat."

 Erwin steps in and closes the door then takes a good look at your puffy face and red eyes. Sighing, he leans against the wall. "For the record, I didn't invite her. Mike must have—"

 "That doesn't make me feel any better," you say, grabbing some toilet paper to blow your nose. "Actually, it makes me feel even worse."

 "I just wanted to make sure you knew."

 "What, d'you want brownie points or something?" You ask sarcastically, making sure the toilet lid is down before sitting on it, bracing your arms on your knees and looking up at Erwin to find him frowning. "Sorry. I'm being a bitch, I know."

 He waves it off. "It's understandable. I'm not very happy with him either. The perpetual shitty mood is driving me crazy."

 You don't know much about that other than it being entirely your fault, so you apologize, "Yeah, sorry about that."

 "If you guys would have just talked it out like adults—"

 "Well, we didn't, Erwin. And, it seems like it's not even an option any more, so…" you hold your hands out in a clueless fashion, like you're at a loss. "I don't know what you want me to do."

 Your voice is thick, straining against the lump in your throat. Vision going blurry again, you shove your palms against your eyes, repeating, no more crying, no more crying, no more crying. 

 "I'm sorry he's doing this to you," Erwin says quietly. 

 You sniffle, almost laugh when you reply, "Not really different from what I did to him. Like," you have to blow your nose again so it doesn't start running, toss the toilet paper into the waste basket next to you. "I don't know if he's trying to get back at me or legitimately moving on, but I can't exactly hold it against him."

 "Still," Erwin takes a couple steps toward you. "Pulling this kind of shit is fucked up. He had to have known it would hurt you on some level."

 "You don't have to, like, take my side or whatever," you state. "I know we're friends and all, but you don't have to coddle me like this."

 "I'm not trying to coddle you. I'm sympathizing. There's a difference."

 "Whatever it is, it's unnecessary," you mumble.

 "Yeah?" Another step closer so that he's right in front of you. "So, you weren't planning on crying in here for the rest of the night?" 

 "No," you're quick to deny, but your lips quirk upward when you correct, "I was gonna go up to my room and cry in there for the rest of the night."

 Erwin shakes his head then pulls you into a strange embrace, pressing your face to his stomach with one hand while the other settles between your shoulder blades.

 Your first instinct is to shove him away, but his shirt is soft and smells like detergent, and his stomach is firm and grounding against your cheek, and the knuckles rubbing up and down the top of your spine are warm and soothing. 

 So, you stay in the slightly awkward position, shutting your eyes and trying to relax, but all you can think about is Mike walking in with his hands on Rhi and the way she looked in his hoodie. Is she cuter than you? Does she smell better than you? Does she treat him better than you did? 

 Tears well up in your eyes once again, dampening Erwin's shirt as they slip over your waterline, and before you know it, you're clutching the material covering the small of his back and crying against him. 

 And, he lets you—just keeps stroking between your shoulders and shushing you with a quiet, "I know, I know. It'll be okay." 

 Erwin is cocky and bold, takes things a little too far sometimes, but, just as you thought last year after he stole that kiss, he is good. Even if he's broken too many hearts to count and completely disregarded people's feelings, he's a good guy. At the very least, he's good to you, and that's what you need at the moment. 

 "What time is it?" You speak into his shirt. 

 "About eleven thirty."

 You hum and turn so that your forehead is resting just above his hips. It could be a suggestive position, but—

 But nothing. 

 You blink a few times, weighing the situation, everything that unfolded tonight—everything that's unfolded over the past semester and… it would make sense. It's not like you've never thought about it before. You're worked up and need to unwind, need to clear your head, and besides, Mike already believes there's something between you and Erwin, so why not take advantage of that?

 Sucking on your bottom lip, you go through a list of pros and cons. The biggest downside is that Mike will be upset with you. He already is, though, so there’s isn’t much to lose on that front. The upside is that you'll be able to forget about him for a while and possibly get an orgasm out of it. 

 "Hey, Erwin…" You're not entirely sure how to bring it up, but it turns out you don't have to. 

 "Don't fucking ask," he huffs. Perceptive bastard. 

 You push away from his stomach and look up at him. "Okay, why, though?"

 His head is hanging back, gaze trained on the ceiling as he admits, "Because if you ask, I won't say no, and it'll only make things worse."

 Something about that gives you butterflies. That's a good sign, means you might be invested enough to finally let your mind wander from Mike. 

 "Mike already thinks we're fucking, though, so unless you don't actually want to fuck me, I don't see why we shouldn't."

 Erwin walks backward until he hits the cabinets. His full lips are pressed into a tight line, and his blue eyes look like a warning. Don't push me. 

 "Do you honestly think you won't walk away from that feeling guilty?" He questions. "We know we aren't sleeping together, that we aren't actually doing anything wrong even if Mike doesn't believe it. But, to actually go through with it?" Erwin lets out a little chuckle and crosses his arms over his chest. "I probably won't feel bad 'cause I'm kind of an asshole, but you? You will feel awful."

 "I already feel awful," you remind him as you stand. "I already feel guilty. If you think I could feel any fucking worse than I already do, you might be overestimating my—my—I don't know—emotional capacity?"

 Moving forward, you nudge Erwin out of the way to get to the sink, splashing cold water on your face to clean it of dried tears. You cup a hand under the faucet, then toss some water into your mouth, swishing, and spitting, and turning back around. 

 Erwin's gaze is dark and not at all subtle when he eyes you up and down. 

 "I might hurt you, you know," he states in a voice that's considerably deeper than before. 

 You raise your eyebrows, unconvinced. "You don't have to worry about me catching feelings, Smith. Relax."

 Mouth tugging up on one side, Erwin smirks in a way that makes you squirm where you stand. 

 "That's not what I meant."

 It takes you a moment to decipher what he's trying to say, but you breathe an, "Oh," when you realize, then another as it truly sinks in. "Oh."

 That's okay, you want to tell him. I want to be hurt tonight. You only want it if it will hurt. If you confess to that desire, though, Erwin might back out—a disappointment considering the way you're starting to get a little excited. 

 "If I can handle Mike, I can handle you," you say, fully aware that he'll take it as a challenge. If there's one thing you know about men, it's that they thrive off competition. 

 Erwin is no different as he slides in front of you, hands finding your hips and pulling them to his. He's already half hard in his khakis, and you stand on your tip-toes, brushing against him as you do, to tilt your head back and hover just under his mouth as you tease, "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it before."

 "You have no idea how often I've thought about it—how often I think about it."

 You nip at his bottom lip, enjoying the way he licks it afterward. "Have you been holding back since we started hanging out—just the two of us?" 

 His fingers dig into your back, just above the curve of your ass, and you already know there will be small bruises left behind. 

 "Do you want me to paint a picture?" He rumbles, and you nod, pressing a kiss to his throat. "Any time I have you in my room I think about fucking you. On the bed. Over my desk. Up against a wall…" A little gasp makes its way out of him as you bite down on the skin you've been sucking on, and Erwin ruts against you a couple times before continuing, voice a little more strangled than before. 

 "Thought about fucking you downstairs on the couch for the whole frat to see, all spread out, moaning like a porn star. I know what you sound like," he whispers, catching you off guard when he suddenly lifts you to set you on the counter. "I've heard the way you scream for Mike." 

 There's a pang in your chest at the mention of him, but it's gone just as quickly. 

 "And, you'd like it, wouldn't you? Being watched." Erwin trails his lips from your temple to your ear, making you shiver when he speaks into it, "You can pretend all you want, but I know you liked it when I walked in on you and him. You liked being on display."

 He isn't wrong. You replay that instance in your head a little more than you probably should. 

 Hearing the fact stated now, though, right to your face has your body heating, arousal flooding you and making warmth pool between your legs. 

 "You can admit it, it's okay. I've known for a while now."

 One of his hands moves to the inside of your thigh then further up, fingers dancing over your covered pussy. It's your turn to gasp. You clutch his shoulders and spread your legs despite knowing there's no way you'll be satisfied with this, not when thick denim is separating you from his touch. 

 "Don't get too cocky, Smith." You try to sound confident, but it's hard to when your breath keeps hitching. 

 "Why?" He grazes his teeth over the sensitive space below your ear, and it makes you twitch in his grasp. "I have every reason to be."

 He goes on to list every other place he's thought about fucking you—apparently just about every setting you've ever been in with him. Each and every Pike party, the locker room before or after a lacrosse game, his Mustang, Mike's Wrangler.

 "That's fucked up," you somehow manage. 

 Erwin shrugs his shoulders, mumbles, "Can't help it," then slots his lips against yours for the first time (or, the first consensual time). 

 You're reminded of Zeke, the way all you did was compare him, only now with Erwin, you have two men who flash through your mind. He's softer than Zeke but just as bold as he cradles your head and slips his tongue into your mouth—tastes sweeter than Mike (probably from the strawberries), but it's not necessarily a good thing. It isn't bad either. It's just Erwin… Different. 

 His hair doesn't brush your cheeks like Mike's does. He doesn't have glasses to dig into your skin. Clean shaven, no coarse hairs to tickle against you, and he's smack in the middle in terms of height. You have to crane your neck more than you did with Zeke but less than you had to with Mike. 

 It's all a little jarring, but you feel this was always sort of an inevitability, at least once you started spending time with Erwin one on one. You never would have let this happen if you had stayed with Mike—if you had actually taken the next step with him—but that's why you started hanging out with Erwin in the first place. 

 You never noticed the way your back and forth was flirty, mostly just you giving him shit about one thing or another, but apparently others read further into it. And, you've had as good a time as you can. The heartache has put a damper on things, kept Erwin mostly off your radar save for the days you woke up frustrated and desperate, but that's what your vibrator is for. 

 Apparently, while you were busy making sure things stayed friendly between the two of you, Erwin's mind was getting away from him. Every god damn time you hung out, he told you, whether it was at the house or out to lunch, walking with you to classes or out to your car. 

 He did make it a habit of touching you, you can admit, but none of it was inappropriate—a nudge to knock you off balance that would result in you hitting him, a prod in the ribs that would result in you squeaking and hitting him. Sticking a foot out to trip you that would result in you…

 Dude obviously likes to be slapped around. 

 There's also the hugs. Up in his room when you feel extra gloomy, he'd wrap his arms around you and sway back and forth. Sometimes he'd sit and pull you with him, turn on a movie and keep a tight hold around your shoulders. There were afternoons you'd walk into his room while he was studying and just pass out in his bed, up too late the night before from worrying and obsessing, in need of a nap before your evening lecture. He'd set an alarm for you, stay up for a while longer before allowing himself to take a break and crawl under the blankets beside to—

 Oh, god, you've been dating Erwin Smith. 

 You have to break away from him to laugh, lightly hitting your head against his chest so that he chuckles and asks, "What?" 

 "I—" You look back up at him, shaking your head to yourself. "I can't believe I didn't fucking see it."

 "See what?" 

 "You and me—"

 "You and I," he corrects, and you shove him. 

 "You and I have just been doing what Mike and I were doing."

 "Uh, excuse me," he holds a finger up. "We have not been having endless sex, thank you."

 "That's not—" You roll your eyes. "I'm saying we've been dating without actually dating. Like, I get why everyone thinks we're a thing."

 "Oh," Erwin nods, sucking his teeth for a second then adding, "Yeah, I was wondering when you would figure that out."

 "Fucker. Did you do it on purpose? Like, just to prove you could?" 

 He frowns, looking genuinely offended. "Christ, what kind of person do you think I am?" 

 "Not twenty minutes ago you confessed to being an asshole."

 His face softens when he snickers. "Okay, true. But, no. I'm not trying to manipulate Mike or you for that matter. You've been upset, and you've put up with a lot of shit over the last few months, and I just figured you could use a friend."

 Staring up at him, you notice the way his face is turning a little red, and you hold your tongue between your teeth as you smile knowingly. 

 "You caaare about meee."

 He scoffs and looks away

 "Heartbreaker Smith cares about a girl," you tease. "How embarrassing."

 "Laugh it up. You would've been miserable without me."

 "I mean, yeah, but still. What's it like having a platonic girlfriend?" 

 He tilts his head to the side then reaches forward to squeeze your thighs. "Is it really platonic if we're about to have sex?" 

 "Absolutely. Hundred percent."

 "You're not even a little worried that it'll become a regular thing and you'll fall in love?" The arrogance is both astounding and amusing. 

 Cocking your head, you take a deep breath, expression one of false sympathy as you pat his stomach. "I'm positive. Unfortunately, my heart belongs to another."

 Erwin clicks his tongue before moving forward and sliding his hands between the counter and your ass. "I'm a little hurt, honestly. I'm used to fucking a girl and having to hide out for a while afterward—always so clingy."

 You squint, can't tell if he's being serious or overdramatizing to annoy you. 

 "You know what? Nevermind. I don't even want your little playboy ass anymore—"

 Naturally, he turns the charm back on right then, getting too close to your face, blue eyes flicking to your lips before he breathes, "Don't lie," and presses a tiny peck to them. "The tough girl act is only believable for so long."

 "Wow, fuck you."

 "That's the idea," he smirks. 

 "Har fucking har. You're so funny."

 Erwin pulls you closer to the edge of the counter and grinds his hips against yours then prompts, "Your room or mine?" 

 "Mine," you reply. "I'd rather you have to do the walk of shame later."

 "Probably a good idea since you won't be able to once I'm finished with you."

 You actually laugh out loud. It would have worked on you a few minutes ago, but all the joking has you a little giggly at this point. 

 Fuck, he is going to make a great distraction. 

 "Okay, calm down. Don't make promises you can't keep."

 "Sounds like a challenge to me."

 "Men," you sigh. "So predictable."

 After minutes more of unnecessary banter, Erwin finally coaxes you out of the bathroom you've both spent far too much time in. Your face has cleared up, the urge to cry subsiding, though your heart still drops in your chest when you pass behind Mike and Rhi on the couch, green eyes tracking you as you walk up the stairs in front of Erwin. 

 This is not the right way to solve a problem, but it'll probably be fun for a while. It's already fun as Erwin kicks the door closed and walks you back to the bed. He isn't even touching you, just watching you with a hazy blue gaze. He isn't smiling, looks like a predator, and honestly, it's ridiculously attractive. 

 "Stop making that face."

 "What face?" 

 "That—that—"

 You run into the bed, wave your arms to keep your balance, but Erwin presses his fingertips to your chest and just barely pushes to knock you back. 

 "What face, hm?" 

 The hair on your arms and neck is standing on end, anticipation bubbling in your gut as you try to crawl higher on the mattress only for Erwin to grab you by the ankle and tug you back down. 

 Damn. He's good at this. 

 "Stay," he commands, straightening up to take his shirt off. 

 He's tan and toned, light blonde hair sprinkled over his chest and above the waistband of his pants. 

 You're reminded of the very first Pike party you went to, the first time you slept with Mike (and can't remember), walking downstairs the following morning to find Erwin in the kitchen wearing sweats and drinking his coffee and smirking at you like he could tell the future. 

 Maddening. He's maddening. 

 You rid yourself of your own top then shimmy out of your jeans. Erwin eyes you hungrily, causing your whole body to tingle. It simultaneously makes you want to cover yourself and spread yourself open for him. 

 "I have been waiting way too fucking long for this," Erwin mumbles, raking fingernails down your torso so that you take in a shuddering breath. 

 "It's been, like, a y-year and a half." Your back arches on its own volition, hips bucking as Erwin scratches over the bones before catching your thong and pulling it down. He kneels at the end of the bed, a familiar scene save for the head of shiny, golden hair.

 "A year and a half of having to look but not touch."

 "Poor little—" you gasp when he parts your folds with his thumbs, staring at your pussy then blowing a stream of air over it. 

 "Do you know how many times I've jacked off to the thought of you? How many times I've slept with other girls while imagining it was you?" 

 You want to make another smartass comment, tease him about being a pervert or in his feelings or something, but you can't find your voice as he licks a long, slow stripe up your slit. You stare at the ceiling, not even blinking as too many signals fire in your brain all at once. 

 Erwin is good with his mouth. Like, stupid good. He has a teasing rhythm, flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue until your muscles are coiled then moves to trace the ring of your entrance, taking his time as you turn from human to puddle. 

 He’s better at this than Zeke who would purposely graze his teeth over your sensitive little bud a little too hard on purpose, would suck on it until it hurt. He liked when you whimpered for him, liked leaving raised welts on your ribs and back from where he’d scratched. The intermixed pain and pleasure never failed to make you come, but the climb up to that precipice was usually precarious for lack of a better term.

 Then, there’s Mike (because of course there is). His mood usually determined how he would take you, hard and fast before a game or slow and lazy as you both relaxed in his room. One thing always stayed the same no matter his disposition, and it’s that he fucking worshiped your pussy—even said it on multiple occasions. He would eat you out like a starving man, lapping at your juices like it would quench his thirst. Some days he would overstimulate you to the point of tears, neverending licks lavished over your clit as he pumped thick fingers in and out of your cunt. Other days he would go down on you like it was a fucking hobby—turn on a movie, spread you out on the foot of his bed, and eat you out while only halfway paying attention to the TV. He could pull multiple orgasms from you that way, letting you come around a finger or two before returning to your pulsing clit. Fuck, you used to make such a mess. He’d spend minutes trying to lick you clean, but you always ended up in the shower afterward.

 You shouldn’t be thinking of that right now, though. You should be thinking about Erwin’s clever tongue and the fingertips just barely brushing over sensitive skin. You want them inside of you, want something to clamp down on, but no matter how much you pull his hair or utter a breathy, “Please,” he keeps the same pace, only moving on when he feels like it.

 He’s doing it on purpose, trying to break you before even getting to the point of fucking you, and if you’re being honest, it just might work. He’s gonna make you lose your god damn mind tonight. Exactly like you want to.

 “Fuck, how much p-practice have you had with th-this?”

 Erwin laughs, stilling your wriggling by curling his arms around your thighs. “Too much, probably.”

 You whine when he continues, but when he starts softly sucking on your clit, you’re surprised at how close you suddenly feel, your legs naturally trying to spread further but remaining immobilized in Erwin’s grip. The threat of not being able to move only intensifies the building sensation in your gut, and soon you’re gasping his name, eyes rolling as you try in vain to buck further into his face. 

 You feel more than hear Erwin groan, a deep vibration that pours over your clit and makes you twitch. He gives you a few more long licks, then pulls back and stands, exposing the way his mouth and chin are covered in a glossy sheen. 

 “Feel better yet?” He smirks.

 You wave a lazy hand, don’t want to fluff his ego too much, so you allow him to witness your borderline stoned state while still jeering, “I’ll feel better when I have your cock inside me.”

 Erwin laughs to himself, mutters, “Eager,” then takes his pants off. 

 Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you give his cock a cursory glance and stop. “Hold on,” then slide off the bed and to your knees. 

 If you’re gonna fuck Erwin Smith, you’re at least gonna appreciate it. 

 He inhales sharply as you place your hands on his thighs, eyes traveling over his length. It’s pretty, above average in size, smooth, with a flared tip that’s currently flushing a dark pink. 

 “I really hate to admit this, but you could be, like, a dick model.”

 He chokes on some kind of snort, and you swear his entire chest turns red. “I—thank you?”

 “You’re welcome,” you tell him, promptly taking hold of his cock and guiding it into your mouth.

 “Oh, fuck, fuck—”

 His skin is soft against your tongue, warm as you take him deeper. His girth stretches your jaw, but you’re still pretty used to the feeling, had to get used to it with Mike because he’s a little bigger than—

 That’s not important. 

 Erwin breathes through his teeth as he places a hand on the top of your head, and when you look up at him through your eyelashes, he lets out a disbelieving little laugh. That confident fucking tease is nowhere to be found as you swipe your tongue over the tiny hole leaking pre then surge forward, almost pressing your nose to his pelvis as you run the muscle back and forth under the base of his cock.

 “Shit, let me—let me lean against the bed,” he says, pulling you off him and chuckling, “Gonna make my fucking knees buckle.”

 You turn where you’re kneeling, waiting for him to get better stabilized before resuming your efforts to ruin this annoying, charming frat boy who is always put together. You suck and slurp and trigger your gag reflex a couple times. Erwin’s fingers scratch against your scalp like he’s looking for purchase. He’s careful not to be too brutal as he pushes you down on his cock, raising his hips to meet your rhythm. His head is thrown back, thighs tensing under your hands as his chest rises and falls with short breaths. 

 You have to work up to it, but once you feel loose enough, you press forward and let Erwin slip further into your throat. His voice sounds like honey when he groans a low, “Hoooly fuck,” letting his head hang down as he attempts to stare at you with unfocused eyes. 

 “Okay, okay, okay,” he huffs. “Keep going and we won’t get to the main event.”

 You pull off of him with a lewd pop then raise to your feet. Your knees are a little sore, but it’s nothing some exercise won’t work out. 

 “Want me to wear a condom?”

 “I don’t care. I’m clean and on birth control,” you tell him. “What about you?”

 “Well, I’m clean, but I haven’t gotten my birth control prescription refilled in a wh—”

 You flick his chest, and Erwin laughs as he bats you away. 

 “Alright. Up on the bed with you then,” he motions to the mattress. “Lay on the edge.”

 You do as you're told, spreading your legs for Erwin to stand between, and you bite your lip when you feel him rub the head of his cock between your folds. You’re still wet with slick—probably dripped onto the carpet when you were giving him head—which makes the glide easier as he teases you. 

 “Ready?” He asks, wriggling thick eyebrows until you smile. He doesn’t wait for an actual answer before he starts pushing in, pressing your legs to your chest as he slowly seats himself in your cunt.

 You’re making that face—eyebrows moving toward your hairline as if you’re worried, jaw dropping open as air is pushed from your lungs. Erwin looks focused, licking his lips as he gazes down at the way your pussy stretches around him. 

 He thrusts in and out at a tortuous pace, apparently waiting for you to start trembling around him before he deems you ready to take more. Every one of his movements is measured, slowly pulling out only to push in all at once. The ridge of his cock drags over your g-spot, pressing firmly against it and making you claw at his shoulders. 

 He feels good, satisfying, but he’s not quite as good as Mike who used to hit all your spots without even thinking about it—somehow making you beg like a whore and sing like a little girl in Sunday school all at the same time. 

 Still, you don’t have to lie when Erwin quickens his pace and pants, “Feel good?” 

 “Fuck—yes, yes, Jesus Christ—”

 He’s pulling all manner of crude sounds from your pussy, wet and greedy as it sucks him back in with every rut of his hips. The angle is perfect—his height paired with the bed on stilts has him hitting your spot every time, and you feel the need to warn him, “If you keep—keep fucking me like this—god—m’gonna squirt.”

 “Fuck yes,” he praises, wetting a thumb in his mouth before bringing it down to massage your clit. He only speeds up as your voice rises, body confused like your muscles don’t know if they should be flexed or relaxed. 

 You feel that tell-tale burning, that urge that only gets stronger the more Erwin abuses your g-spot and presses against your clit.

 “Shit, shit, shit—”

 Erwin groans when fluid starts to trickle from you, pushes more and more out of you while quickly swiping two fingers over your clit. The sense of relief is mind-numbing. You can’t even be upset that your sheets are gonna be damp whenever you decide to sleep. 

 He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t lose his rhythm, just sticks his two wet fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean. 

 You see it now—the skill, the appeal, why the girls always come back to him. It makes sense. He’s devastatingly handsome, especially like this, all fucked out and flushed, hair out of place, lips red and swollen from biting them. 

 Yeah, Erwin is fucking hot.

 But, that doesn’t mean he’s your type. 

 Pulling out, he flips you onto your stomach, and you have to stand on your tip-toes as you lean over the bed. The burn in your calves disappears almost entirely when he slides into you from behind, pelvis pressing against your ass as he curls over you, cupping your tits and tweaking your hardened nipples as he gifts you with a series of shallow thrusts. It makes you whimper and teeter forward, unable to balance and squirm at the same time. Face suddenly buried in the mattress, your cries are muffled by the blankets. Erwin’s hands travel back to your hips, rocking you back and forth on his slick cock. He’s getting a little rougher, pressing into you as deeply as he can, and the fact that you’ll be sore from this tomorrow gives you a strange sense of satisfaction. 

 Only way to get over someone is to get on top of someone else, right? Or, underneath in your case. Being a little more in control wouldn’t be the worst thing, though, so…

 “Erwin, Erwin, fuck—Lemme ride you.”

 There is no hesitation. Erwin slips out of you and throws himself onto the bed, grinning crookedly as he watches you climb over him on unsteady limbs. His patience must have worn out some time ago, because he holds his cock with one hand, using the other to line you up with it, then guides you down his length. 

 You have to sit still for a second, or you would like to, but Erwin is still holding your hips, and he rocks you back and forth in his lap like he knows. He probably does. He’s probably fucked enough girls to notice exactly when their eyes pop open, when they shudder and break out in goosebumps because that pressure is hitting exactly where it needs to, and yeah, he knows. 

 Finding it in yourself to move again, you lean over Erwin, planting your hands on the pillows by his head, then start bouncing on his cock. He hisses in a dark, appreciative way, eyes and hands immediately drawn to your chest. He sits up enough to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and pinching then doing the same to the other. 

 He’s so good—feels so good, knows just where to touch, the exact place to bite on your neck that makes you melt, but how—how does he know that? It’s like he has a sixth sense or—

 Or, he just paid attention to the bruises that Mike used to leave on the sides of your throat. That checks out. 

 Fuck, he used to mark you like he wanted everyone to see, especially that last night. It was almost animalistic, like he had been—marking his territory, Zeke’s voice plays in your head. It makes you frown, and you rid yourself of the thought only to replace it with the memory of Mike’s mouth on your skin, his calloused fingertips trailing down your torso, huge hands wrapping around your legs to pull you against him—

 You whine, glad it sounds like a sound of desperation rather than frustration. You just want to stop thinking about him. Just an hour—if you could go a single fucking hour—

 “Hey, look at me,” Erwin commands in a soft voice. 

 You open your eyes, still hovering over him, and expect him to say something, but instead he just reaches up to the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss. 

 He’s helping move you on top of him, forcing you to take his cock over and over, and like this, so close and breathing him in, you don’t even have the room to think about Mike. 

 Both of your bodies are damp with sweat, and Erwin’s hair is a mess, pushed from his flushed face. He bites down on your bottom lip and tugs, only letting go to ask, “Where do you want me?”

 “I don’t care,” you groan, legs and arms and pussy growing sore. You’re not surprised; you’ve been going at it for a while now. 

 Erwin licks your lower lip as if to soothe it after biting it, tells you, “Oh, don’t give me that option. You know where I’ll pick.”

 Smiling, you straighten up then move to fit your feet underneath you so you can bounce more freely. “You can come inside, dude. It feels good to me, too.”

 “I really don’t know how to respond to being called ‘dude’ when I’m balls deep in a girl.”

 You shrug, “Sorry not sorry,” then raise and drop yourself, feeling in charge for the first time tonight. 

 “Fuck—shit—”

 That feeling is short lived as Erwin goes right back to using you the way he wants. You think for about half a second that he’s finally, really losing himself, but the accuracy of his finger on your clit proves that is not the case. He’s clearly having a good time, but he isn’t at that feral stage that Mike falls into sometimes.

 Before you can dwell on it for too long, you hit your peak, moaning Erwin’s name, hips moving uncontrollably as you ride out your orgasm.

 He’s speaking, mumbling praise or pleas or curses, you aren’t so sure, but after about another minute of fucking into you relentlessly, Erwin comes, shooting line after line inside of you until he’s spent and twitching. 

 With your two previous partners, this is usually when you’d fall forward and cuddle, catch your breath and enjoy the feeling of being all plugged up.

 But, it’s Erwin, huffing and blinking up at the ceiling then finally stating, “That was a dumb idea.”

 It makes you laugh for some reason, probably because you agree. 

 The sex was great. There is a reason girls talk about him on campus, about his sexual prowess or whatever, and if you weren’t too busy suffocating in your little pit of heartbreak, thinking about your best friend nonstop, you wouldn’t mind fucking Erwin again. And, again and again.

 That’s not gonna happen, though. The heat of the moment is fading, every mental faculty returning to you, and despite the fact that you’re still seated on his cock, as you look down at him, you feel absolutely no spark.

 He’s ridiculously attractive, pretty fucking brilliant but with a dumb sense of humor, and you love him. You really do. He’s done a lot for you over the last semester, made it at least somewhat bearable, but… This shouldn’t have happened. 

 Hopefully, it quelled his curiosity, though.

 “I told you it would just make you feel shitty,” he mumbles, but he doesn’t look sad. Sympathetic more than anything, resigned that he’s probably going to have to pick up the pieces of another mess. 

 “Yeah,” you drawl. “You were right.” Your joints pop as you stand, towering over Erwin for once and leaking his fucking cum as you hop off the bed. 

 “It’s been known to happen from time to time,” he jokes absentmindedly, wiping a few drops of white off his stomach then reaching for the tissues on the nightstand. 

 You don’t feel awkward or out of place, but you have no idea what else to say. The only thing that comes to mind is, “I’m gonna take a shower,” as you walk toward the bathroom.

 Erwin moves on the bed, stretching a little before grabbing his pants and leaving you to your devices, but you pause before stepping onto the tile, turn back and pace over to him.

 “Hey,” you start, and Erwin glances up from the button of his khakis. “Thanks.”

 He rolls his eyes, a small smile playing at his lips, and once he’s all zipped and buttoned up, he pulls you into a hug. 

 “I would say any time, but we probably shouldn’t do this again.”

 “Yeah, probably not.”

 You breathe into the space under his collarbone, humming as he gently scratches you back, then break away. “Alright, actually gonna shower now.”

 Erwin nods, “You do that,” then slaps your ass as soon as you turn around. 

 You look at him over your shoulder with raised eyebrows, but he just winks and tells you, “I had to. Just once,” which is fair. 

 You run a hot shower, scrub the shit out of your skin, lather your hair with some fancy shampoo then rinse it off. Once you go through your full routine, you’re happy to change into pajamas and slip into the comfortable bed. You don’t even mind that the comforter is a little damp in various places.

* You don’t stir when the door opens and closes, but you do when the mattress dips. Shifting slightly, you assume it’s just Erwin, falling back into your usual routine by slipping under the covers with you.

 As soon as he lays behind you, though, you know it isn’t Erwin. You recognize that weight, that warmth, that smell, and you are very awake very quickly. 

 “M-Mike?”

 All he offers is a little, “Mm,” to confirm.

 You chew on the inside of your cheek, confused and clueless as to what you’re supposed to do. 

 “Are you drunk again?”

 “No. Little buzzed.”

 Why is he here, then? You want to ask—What is he doing? Why isn’t he with Rhi?

 You start to turn to face him but you're stopped when Mike sets a hand on your back. It's oddly firm, keeping you in place as he grunts, "No, don't."

 "What?" 

 "Don't turn around." His voice is hushed and choppy, like he's gritting out every syllable. 

 "Mike?"

 "I have shit I wanna say to you, and I won't be able to if you're lookin' at me."

 You have no idea how to respond to that, don't know if this is going to be a positive one-sided conversation where Mike confesses deep feelings while actually sober, or if he'll just unload all the baggage you've given him. Either way, you wish you could see his face. Something about having him laying behind you, close enough to feel his body heat, has you feeling very uneasy. 

 But, you nod, "Okay," trying to put on a brave face that he refuses to look at. 

 For a while, he just breathes. You assume it’s because he’s gathering his thoughts or maybe working up the courage to say something, but the suspense is making you shiver under your blankets. You have that terrible feeling in the pit of your stomach, the mix of anticipation and regret you get on the way up to the first drop of a rollercoaster. 

 “Why have you been lying to me?”

 And, there’s that drop. 

 You swallow. “I haven’t been.”

 “Bullshit.”

 “Mike, I haven’t been!” You try to turn again, but his large hand is still right in the middle of your back. 

 “Do you think I’m fucking stupid?” His fingers close around the material of your shirt. You feel it tighten at your chest, making it hard to breathe—harder to breathe. “How are you gonna tell me that right after sleeping with him?” 

 You open your mouth to argue, realize you can’t make a case for yourself, and when you snap your jaw shut again, the sound of your teeth clacking seems to echo in your head.

 Yesterday, you would have been able to talk to him about this and be honest when telling him you weren’t fucking his best friend. Now, though…

 God, that had been such a bad decision. Why hadn’t you just listened to Erwin? Why can’t you fucking listen to anyone?

 “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Mike mutters. His grip loosens, but you can still feel a light tug at your shirt, the movement of fingers, and you think he might be rubbing over the material he’s still holding. “Pretty sure all of us could hear you guys goin’ at it, so… Thanks for that.”

 You take a deep breath in, squeezing your eyes shut because it sinks in that this is not going to be nice conversation. This isn’t going to result in the two of you apologizing and making love confessions to each other. 

 “I… I’m sorry.”

 Now, you’re grateful for not being able to see his face. You wouldn’t be able to stand looking at him right now, not when you know his expression will be grim—probably angry. 

 “I can’t really do anything with sorry,” Mike sighs. His hand drops from your back, but you make no move to turn over. 

 Your heart is like a hummingbird’s, beating frantically in your chest as that ache rises inside of you again, making your throat constrict and your eyes burn. 

 “Why’d you invite Rhi tonight?” You ask, hoping your sniffle isn’t too noticeable.

 “Why does it matter?”

 You suppose it doesn’t, but you still want to know, “Is it to get back at me, or is it because you’re actually into her?”

 Mike scoffs. “Not that it’s any of your business, but do you think I’d be in your room at three in the fucking morning if I was into her?”

 It’s probably the closest he’ll get to admitting it, but it’s all you need to hear. He’s been going out of his way to hurt you. At least any pain you’ve caused him wasn’t intentional. Until tonight, that is, and even then, you didn’t fuck Erwin to hurt him; you did it to help yourself. 

 Pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth, you hold back tears and mumble a thick, “Just wanted to know.”

 “Want to make sure I’m still interested? That I’ll keep waiting for you to fucking realize—”

 “I have—” You turn over roughly, pinning Mike’s hand under your ribs as you glare at him, but he manages to put more distance between the two of you when he yanks his arm back and sits up.

 “I can’t do this anymore,” he tells you, and you think you hear his voice waver for a second.  

 The orange light pouring in from the bathroom is the only way you can tell his eyes are wide—worried—and it chills all the blood in your body.

 “Wh-what d’you mean?” 

 “I mean, I can’t fucking do this anymore,” he repeats a little louder, drawing it out like it’ll help you understand. “I cannot deal with you anymore. I can’t keep feeling this way, okay?”

 “Mike…”

 “No,” he stops you, acts like he has something else lined up but bites his tongue and sighs. He sits cross-legged on the bed now, hangs his head as he speaks calmly, “This semester has fucking sucked. I am angry all the time. I can’t focus in class, and I can’t play lacrosse without getting in trouble, and I can’t fuck anyone else without feeling bad—I can’t fucking do anything without thinking of you, and I’m—” he looks at the wall and shakes his head. “I’m exhausted.”

 “I am too,” you tell him, voice cracking as that lump in your throat grows and bubbles, pushing hot tears from your eyes that you quickly wipe away. “Mike, I am too, so can we just—”

 “No,” he cuts you off again. “Whatever it is you’re about to say—move on, pretend it didn’t happen, pick up where we left off, whatever… the answer is no.”

 He seems like he already has his mind made up, came into the room with a plan, and he isn’t gonna let you talk him out of it. 

 So, you stay as silent as you can, sniffing and swallowing and letting the comforter catch every teardrop. 

 “I have been… Right in front of you this whole time. I made myself completely available for a year—was at your beck and fucking call. I was—I mean—I was good to you, right?” He sounds incredulous, like he can barely believe he’s asking. 

 “Yeah,” you manage. “Yeah, you were.”

 “Then, why…? Zeke? And, now Erwin?”

 “Do you want me to try to explain, or do you just wanna rant for a while?”

 Mike glances at you, looks surprised that you’d give him the option. 

 “Honestly, I don’t really wanna hear it. You’ve more than proved your point.”

 Indignation swirls in your stomach alongside your nausea, and you press, “My point being?”

 “That I’m not good enough.”

 Oh, god. No, no, no. You could understand him being angry. You’re okay with him being angry, it’s fine. But, this—this feeling of inferiority? That is so much worse. It makes you sick. This is the last thing you’d ever want Mike to feel. It’s the last thing he should feel because it’s false. He has no reason—he’s too good and too kind and too warm. He’s like… He’s fucking sunshine. He can light up a room, and he doesn’t even know it.

 “Mike, n-no,” your voice breaks, making you sound like a wounded animal. “You are so, so good. You are more than enough, I promise.”

 He snorts in a self-deprecating manner. “Then, why—”

 “Because I’m not good enough. I fucked this up. This is my fault, and I can own that as long as you know that there is absolutely no—nothing wrong with you,” the last part comes out as a squeak as you try not to hyperventilate and cry the way your body is urging you to. Not yet. 

 Mike nods a few times. You can see his mouth moving from the side like he’s biting his lip or sucking his teeth until he agrees, “Yeah,” then adds a quiet, “Whatever you say, babe,” that makes you want to throw up.

 Mike scoots to the edge of the bed and stands. You assume he’s about to leave, let you be alone with your thoughts, so when he rounds the corner to get to your side, you sit up a little straighter. 

 Half of his face is illuminated, casting shadows under his eyes, highlighting the bruise on his neck that Rhi probably left, but your gaze is trained on his as he leans down to you. A finger hooks under your chin, and Mike tilts your face at an angle, kissing you so softly that it’s painful. 

 His lips are warm and familiar, everything you’ve been craving as they cover yours. There’s no tongue, no force, just light pressure as he inhales through his nose.

 You know what this is, what he’s doing, but you can’t prepare yourself because there’s still that tiny string of hope you’re grappling for. He just needs a break. You just need to give him space. That’s all—

 “I love you,” Mike murmurs. His voice is low and honest and slices you open. “I love you so fucking much it hurts, and I just—” He brushes a thumb over your lower lip as he pulls away, and it takes everything in you not to grab his hand and beg him to stay. “It’s like I hate you too.”

 You pull away to wipe your face with the blanket. There’s so much you want to say but have no idea how to articulate it, so all you can do is stare at Mike with wide, watery eyes. He… hates you. He hates you. 

 Straightening, Mike’s expression is suddenly nonchalant, like he just flipped a switch in his brain. “I’m not exactly the social butterfly I used to be, but I wanna have fun my last semester of undergrad—make up for the time I lost fucking brooding over you, so—”

 “I’ll stop going to the Pike house,” you tell him quietly. It’s easier to make the decision yourself rather than have to hear it from his mouth: Don’t come around anymore. I don’t want to see you. 

 “Cool. And, if you, like, see me on campus or anything—”

 You cough, maybe gag, you can’t really tell at this point because wow, this just keeps getting worse. 

 “I won’t bother you.”

 “Cool.” He bends to press another much more patronizing kiss to the crown of your head, then starts walking toward the door. “I’m just gonna try to move on, you know? Start fresh. And, you should do the same. Shouldn’t be too hard for you.” 

 You don’t watch him leave, just listen for the door to click shut behind him before you crawl out of bed, turn the lights on, and start packing your things. 

 You and Hitch drove together, but you have no doubt that she'll be able to get a ride with Nile, and with that thought, you’re out of the ranch house and on the road just as the first rays of the morning sun start shining over the horizon.

 *

 It’s surprisingly easy for Mike to slip back into his old, obnoxious persona, and the remainder of the school year is spent partying, fucking, and cramming for tests he should have studied for weeks in advance.

 But, life is short, and he’s done beating himself up over stupid shit.

 Most of his PKA brothers are happy to have him “back”, and the pledges get the chance to see this of him, but there are times when Mike catches Erwin or Nile shaking their heads at him. He doesn’t mind much. They can both go fuck themselves for all he cares. 

 True to your word, you don’t show your face around the house. There were a few weeks after the holiday get-together where Erwin would disappear for a few hours at a time and come back either tired or angry, sometimes a combination of the two. 

 He attempted to bring you up in a conversation a total of one time, right in the middle of a party where Mike had been eyeing up a sorority girl. He brushed his friend off, easily telling Erwin, “Don’t fuckin’ talk to me about her,” through the crooked grin he was flashing at the little blond across the room. 

 Erwin didn’t bother after that, obviously deeming Mike a lost cause. 

 Mike knows better, though. He isn’t lost anymore. In fact, he’s found himself all over again.

 Every once in a while, he’ll catch a glimpse of you on campus, but whenever that happens, he just turns around and takes a different route to wherever he’s going. He doesn’t want to give you any reason to think you can talk to him—doesn’t want to give you the chance.

 He’s spent too much of his time hung up on you, too much time pining and hurting, and that hasn’t disappeared entirely. Mike can still clearly remember the way you looked at him the last night the two of you spoke, the way your tears twinkled in the dim light. He remembers how strangled you sounded while speaking, remembers the way your shoulders shook as you fought your emotions, remembers the way your lips trembled against his. 

 It wasn’t very satisfying. Mike left the ranch house the following morning sporting a few bruises on the outside thanks to Rhi as well as a few bruises on the inside thanks to you. 

 That entire night had been a clusterfuck—between Maddie and Marie storming off to cry then the little stunt he pulled by inviting Rhi, it had been much too dramatic for a gathering of that size. Mike experienced a wide variety of emotions that night, but the one that stands out the most is the searing rage that threatened to burn him from the inside, the red the clouded his vision as soon as he heard you moan Erwin’s name through the wall. 

 Mike had already been toying with the idea of severing all ties with you, but that’s what pushed him over the edge, watching you put on your little show when Rhi walked in only to turn around and have a grand fucking time with his best friend. 

 It needed to happen. Mike needed to free himself of you. It feels good. Mostly. There are still some days he comes close to giving in, just picking up his phone and calling you, but he resists, and he’s better for it. 

 He gets through his classes, does well on his finals after actually putting in the time to prepare for them, and by the time Mike graduates, he’s already been accepted to the graduate program of his choice and has an internship lined up. The tension between him and Erwin has faded for the most part, which is great since he’s going to grad school in the same area up north. Things look… promising—something he didn’t think possible without you by his side, something he didn’t want to be possible without you by his side. 

 But, now, here he is, unpacking his new apartment with the help of Scout who insists on sniffing absolutely everything. He’s halfway across the country from his parents, away from all he’s ever known, and Mike couldn’t be more thrilled about it. 

 He can go full days without sparing you a thought now, and he hopes—he prays—that one day he’ll think of you for the last time in his life. 

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic

[nevertheless-moving]

Unnamed Extremely Bad Plan to Defeat Darth Sideous AU - SW AU NO 9

Hopefully writing down this star wars au will help me exorcise the cringe demon that helped midwife it. Time travel au where obi-wan and Anakin come up with an extremely SPECIFIC and UNCOMFORTABLE plan to defeat Palpatine because it unfortunately, would actually work, as it capitalizes on one of Palpatine’s easiest to reach political vulnerabilities. This is not a unique plan- there are other au’s like this, but this one is mine. When searching for ways to explain exactly why this anti-sith strategy inspires such cringe and delight in myself I realized, with sinking dread, I have seen this in an Always Sunny episode...which yeah. I might be over reacting but hey, cringe is a personal phenomenon, everyone’s different.

Anyway! Uh here’s a bunch of plot that will eventually culminate in the plan. 

*Too much plot, aaaah*. **All plot actually.** ***Its 1 am and this is still a draft*** ****It’s 2am**** *****This post will be just be background I guess.*****

*******STAR WARS AU NO 9 LAZILY OUTLINED CHAPTER ONE*********

Force ghosts Darth Vader and Ben Kenobi have had time to yell at one another without need for breath, and have more-or-less come to terms with the trainwreck that was their shared life. I wouldn’t call them well adjusted, but they’re more stable then they were the last decade or so of their living existence. 

In haunting Luke, they end up encountering an artifact in an ancient Willis temple that offers spirits the chance to fix the mistakes they made in life. It doesn’t truly unwrite what’s been done, but it lets you create an alternate timeline. So this galaxy will still be what it is, but some alternate galaxy somewhere could at least have it better. Its almost never been used, because becoming one with the force usually lets you accept the past, but viewed objectively, Vader and Ben’s lives involved an extreme amount of yikes. They say goodbye to Luke and are flung backwards and sideways.

Anakin is holding his mother as she dies. Obi-Wan is landing on Genosis. 

Vader just barely manages to avoid slaughtering the tuskens. To be honest, he doesn’t really get why he shouldn’t- his moral compass is still pretty f-ed up. He’s fairly certain the force is just torturing him, but still he controls himself (for Padme for Luke for Leia).

I’m gonna say well-adjusted!Vader sees murder in general as more of a vice than a sin- on par with having a beer. And really well adjusted Vader is willing to admit to himself that he’s an alcoholic, he seriously cannot regulate, its a problem. He really can’t let himself go, because he’ll just end up spiraling. And so he restrains himself and only seriously maims a few of the adult raiders.

Vader figures he can always come back later and slowly torture them to death if this whole ‘save the future’ thing doesn’t pan out.

Obi-wan leaves his shuttle and hides under a rock for 30 minutes. He calculates thats just enough time for him to pretend he went on an extremely effective and sneaky fact finding mission- just in case anyone checks R4′s records. Gets back in shuttle and gets the fuck out of there, much to Dooku’s chagrin, who lost sight of him after the shuttle landed and is now going to have to switch to one of his alternate start-the-war plans. 

On the flight back he reports everything to the council- fallen Dooku and the separatist leaders, the trade federation and the massive droid army, Jango Fett the clone template of the republic army (?) working for the separatists. He briefly comms Anakin, but anyone hacking into their conversations would hear only a nonsensical, rambling conversation. Later, a hacker might turn over the idea that they were speaking in elaborate code, but why would Jedi invent such a thing during peacetime?

The war still starts; at this point in the timeline it was inevitable; the artifact was only designed to give them the chance to correct their own failings, not the galaxy’s. Palpatine still gets his emergency powers. 

The same day the armies are discovered, separatist war ships take off to engulf Ryloth. The Jedi are instructed by the senate to lead the clone army and provide immediate relief-this will not be a repeat of the republic’s inaction on Naboo. It’s both better and worse than the first Battle of Genosis. So many more civilians are caught in the crossfire. The first titanic battle is not contained to evacuated droid factories, but rages across an entire populated world. The battle lasts for weeks.

The main reason this fight is less deadly is solely due to the fact that General Kenobi manages to maneuver his way into high command of the entire army.

 “I believe assumptions were made since I was the first point of contact with Kamino, Masters,” the Knight explained apologetically to the arriving high council members. “I realize its not quite appropriate, but for right now I am the Jedi most familiar with our forces and the enemies. I would, of course, prefer to cede the role to someone else.” 

The assembled Jedi can feel the truth in that statement.

“For better or for worse, advance troops were directed by the senate to land planetside and have met heavy resistance. I managed to redirect them to a more defensible position, where they can provide surface based cover fire for incoming reinforcements. The battle has already begun.” He received a grim nod of approval from Master Windu.

“I feel the need to say now, that if there’s one thing I learned from my time as a general on Melida/Dann, or in working against Death Watch on Mandalore, its that having a clear chain of command is vital for a military to succeed. I don’t need to remind some of you that leadership breakdowns were what ultimately ended both the Stark Hyperspace War and the Yinchorri Crisis,” Masters Koon and Tiin exchanged looks before deliberately sending forth a small force wave of approval, understanding where this briefing was leading. 

“I believe that unnecessarily restructuring command before the battle is won here could do far more harm than good.” The reminder of Obi-wan’s unusually militaristic apprenticeship put some of the assembled knights at ease even as it inspired a twinge of guilt in the older masters. 

“In command you are, General Kenobi,” Master Yoda finally acknowledged. “A Jedi Master you will be, once done this battle is. Have us do, what would you?” 

The battle lasts for weeks, and when its over, the commanding Jedi and Troopers involved will openly acknowledge that had anyone else been in command, it would’ve lasted months, if not years. Facing down logistical, strategic, and tactical problems on a scale unheard of for a thousand years, High General Kenobi does not falter.

Enemy reinforcements seem unending. For all their preparation, every single trooper is new to war, and secretly concerned that should they fall, they will be replaced with cadets who hadn’t even finished their training.

Obi-Wan is putting out fires before they can start. Much to their shock, clone commanders are informed that they will, for the time being, remain in charge of their troops. With a handful of exceptions, Jedi ‘Generals’ were in fact, to be treated as a cross between highly skilled commandoes and advisors with abnormally sourced field intelligence. 

“All of you have spent your lives training to lead your brothers into combat. The Jedi Masters and knights who are being assigned to your divisions have not received such training.” 

General Kenobi addressed the division commanders, some in person, some over holocomm. All focused in rapt attention as their General reordered the shape of their lives using language they could understand.

“The command structure I am issuing is designed to maximize our ability to utilize our respective strategic capabilities, while minimizing potential loss of your life. It will be our great privilege to serve alongside such an army, and while I fully expect a complementary exchange of knowledge in time, for now, focus on survival.”

The Jedi received similar briefings, tailored for their broader array of combat and military experience. Some, including Jedi Master Pong Krell and Grandmaster Yoda, were pulled aside and tasked with the essential mission of infiltrating and destroying the Droid factories on Genosis. If they were to have a chance of winning this war, they they would need to cut off the seemingly unceasing flow of droid reinforcements. 

An elite squadron of Arctroopers and Jedi field operatives were covertly dispatched, Grandmaster Yoda himself in command. Considering Count Dooku had yet to appear anywhere near Ryloth...the grandmaster had the best chance of bringing in the fallen separatist leader alive for questioning.

Shortly after they left, Anakin arrived, having finally turned over Padme’s protection to her regular guard. With the military creation vote past, the assassination risk was considered minimal. The real delay in his arrival came from her repeated attempts to join the Grand Army of the Republic on Ryloth with the intent of coordinating humanitarian assistance. Eventually he managed to convince her that she could do more good in the senate. 

After all, he pointed out, someone would need to followup the military creation act with a bill to grant clones equal citizen rights. Otherwise, the legal grey area that cloning fell under and their non-republic origin would inadvertently make the clones slaves. 

His borrowed Nabooan cruiser entered the warzone with the grace and efficiency as a small neutron bomb.

Those close enough to see its flaming descent watched in horror, realizing that the high generals own padawan would likely be a war casualty before he ever engaged in combat.

The legion nearest to soon-to-be-ground-zero, under the command of Captain Rex of the 501st, were distracted by heated combat, as the temporary barricade they had put up to defend the civilian population gave way to droidika artillery. 

While reloading, several dozen troopers happened to look up to see a speck detach itself from the hull as at spiraled in the lower atmosphere. Hope spread that the Jedi had managed to activate some sort of eject hatch. A skilled shocktrooper could probably control and and survive such a fall with luck, which mean a Jedi almost certainly could. 

A few tactical scouts charged with watching the skies confirmed that the speck was indeed a humanoid. No chute was visible, but even 8 days into the war, rumors had already spread about how Master Windu had passed off his chute mid-air to a troopers who had been damaged by suppressing fire, cushioning his free fall solely with the tank he crushed upon landing. 

Only one trooper, stationed in the town clock tower specifically to track the Padawan’s arrival and issued with a high-resolution farscope, saw the whole thing. Fortunately for his credibility later, in its current setting, the scope automatically logged photos every 5 seconds, ensuring that for years to come Obi-Wan would have a flipbook as evidence that he was not the crazy one.

CT-3609 or Blink (as he was named after winning the division wide staring contest on Kamino two year prior) forwarded the trajectory of the vehicle to command, who confirmed his analysis that it would impact two clicks out from their makeshift fort and not present a risk to civilian or trooper lives. 

As it traversed the stratosphere a figure (desperate repair droid, Blink assumed) emerged from the cockpit to perch on the nose of the ship. As it entered the troposphere, it became painfully obvious that the figure jutting out from the hull of the ship was in fact not a humanoid droid, but an unarmored human. The Jedi stood on the prow of the ship, seemingly impervious to and oblivious of:

air resistance 

centrifugal force

normal space gravity 

Blink’s slack-jawed bewilderment

the flames engulfing the ship below him

At this range, the smirk on the man’s face was visible (man? boy? kriff is he even through puberty?). Several miles above the surface he leaped, diving towards the ground like a bird of prey. 

To the west, the ship made impact with the ground, sending a shockwave that shook the tower just enough for Blink to lose visual in the final moments of descent. Cursing, as while he was confident the Jedi would inexplicably survive, he really wanted to see how. The trooper scanned the droid-engulfed farmland to the north for a crash site, to no avail. Lingering smoke from the burnt countryside negatively impacted visibility low to the ground.

Rather than trying to articulate his report into words, he sent the 50-odd frames the farscope had saved, as well as the coordinates for the jedi’s projected radius of touchdown. A quick radio over to long range electro-ballistics ensured that his landing wouldn’t be marred by friendly fire.

He awaited follow-up questions on the absurd entry method, which, when they came, mostly consisted of variations on “...Is this for real?” and eventually “Can you set the scope to video for a little while?” and finally “Do you think that’s how he got the name Skywalker?”

There was a temporarily lull in fire from the west, likely a ripple effect from the ship’s explosion. From his vantage point Blink could see his batchmates using the opportunity to try and plug the holes in their barricade with broken droid pieces. Regardless of the itch to join them, he knew he couldn’t leave his post until the Jedi actually arrived in camp. Finally, a distant explosion and thick pillar of smoke gave the Jedi’s position away.

He tried to make out details, but the scope had a difficult time focusing through the haze. Manually trying to fine tune the scope’s settings, Blink caught a glimpse of what looked like half a hover tank sailing through the air to impact with a trade federation troop carrier in a fiery explosion. Several more explosions, flying droid artillery, and plumes of smoke were caught on record before visual contact with the source was established. He was mostly visible as a blue blur, lightsaber mowing a meandering path towards their location. 

It wasn’t until Skywalker braced himself in place to punch a droidaka into pieces that Blink caught actual sight of the man. Only his eyes were visible, nose and mouth covered by layers of cloth. He blurred, then reappeared on top a massive missile launcher attached to an absurdly heavily armored vehicle. A minute or so of rapid blue flashes passed, the longest he had seen concentrated in one area. Then Skywalker was gone, movement clearly visible as he for once he moved in a straight line, plowing a rapid path away from the launcher. 

Less than 30 seconds later, Blink had to wince away from the scope, as a burning white explosion temporarily overwhelmed the direct light filter. The trooper panicked for a moment, thinking he had gone both deaf and blind, but the abrupt, sucking silence ended after a moment with a deafening sonic boom. The shockwave rattled the farscope, nearly knocking it over, but Blink managed to steady it and himself in time. 

A cheer emerged from pleasantly surprised vod below. The entire droid legion that had been guarding the missile launcher and apparent ordinance bay was flattened. 

It took a moment for the realization to set in that the background noise of missile and and anti-missile collisions directly overhead had slowed pace. With the northern flank gone, artillery were able to redouble efforts to the east, and a second white hot shockwave ensued, signaling that the tide of battle had shifted. It was almost too easy for the republics electro-ballistics to tactically devastate the surrounding forces. 

Eventually some sort of win/loss programming must have set in and all forces outside of a certain radius began retreating southward, conceding the scorched land to the republic army. It was cadets work to clean up the final suicidal droid charge. 

A commotion ensued as Skywalker leapt the barricade with a mid-air flip. The vod greeted him with cheers, as they correctly assumed his appearance had something to do with the skirmish’s decisive victory.

Blink sent the video of the battle to command and quickly packed up his scope and assorted equipment. Hurrying down the battered tower, Blink thought to himself that this Anakin Skywalker was the best sort of Jedi a trooper could ask for.

uh sorry i got really sidetracked there moving on

Kenobi and Skywalker quickly become the face of the war once again

they grit their teeth a bit, but when they finally have a moment to really plan they eventually agree that to take down Sideous they have to cut off his political power in addition to everything else, and taking advantage of their public personas was the most accessible way to do so (*evil laughter*)

While Dooku wasn’t captured, Yoda heard the truth in his old student’s cryptic warnings about a Sith in the Senate, and the council begins carefully editing their release of tactical plans to the Chancellor’s office in the hopes of ferreting out the spy in their midst.

Pong Krell looses two arms in his duel with Dooku. Obi-Wan successfully hides his smug pleasure at the news. Anakin enjoys makeing comparisons between him and Grievous. 

Kenobi doesn’t allow the origin of the clones to go unexamined, although he agrees that if the public were informed that they don’t actually know who ordered them it would probably cause panic.

The ‘inhibitor chips’ are ‘discovered’ early on and Anakin leads the effort to ensure that they are phased out and removed immediately. This consists of reminding every Jedi who even hesitates about how how he as a child slave had some experience with control chips and unless you want to take a leaf out of the hutts books lets start doing brain surgery chop chop mmmkay?

(This isn’t to say that Vader doesn’t still a twinge of shame at acknowledging his slave roots. But it is eclipsed by the burning guilt that he knowingly acted as slave master to his troops for decades after Sideous wiped their minds. He tried to rationalize it to himself, after all he didn’t immediately understand what Order 66 had done to the troopers. But while the morality of murder was more of an intellectual concern than a personal one, treating people as things...)

The Kamonions are a little harder to budge, referencing contracts that they refuse to allow the Jedi to see

Finally Vader snuck into the Chief Medical Scientist’s home while she was sleeping and straight-up threatened to murder her and burn down her lab. At the risk of losing her life’s work, Nala Se complied.

Vader left with the final threat that in the event that Darth Tyranus caught wind and activated Order 66 prematurely, he would kill 100 Kamonians for every Jedi felled by troopers. Shaak Ti was pleased by the cloners sudden change of heart. Tyrannus, and by extension, Sideous, are in the dark. 

Obi-Wan frequently publicly confronts Palpatine about the troops citizen status, urging him make use of his emergency powers to grant them citizenship and full pay, with the option to leave the army should they so wish. 

Anakin manages to play off his avoidance of the Chancellor as disappointment in his perceived lack of dedication to anti-slavery efforts

Finally Palpatine gives in- regardless of what happens next, the troops will be looked after.

With 2/3rds of the troopers dechipped, Vaderkin is eager to kill Sideous again, but after several intense screaming matches and sparring sessions, the time travelers come to the agreement that even if they succeed in their duel, with things as they were, the perception of the Jedi military coop would cause mass civil unrest. The scattered sith apprentices, while individually weak, were more than capable of magnifying that fear and anger until the galaxy breaks. Darth Sideous wanted to ensure that if he couldn’t have the galaxy, no one would. 

(Vader knows this. Sideous enjoyed monologuing, and much of his plotting couldn’t be safely bragged about until after he had decisively won, leaving Vader as the unwilling receptacle for years of pent-up rants and self-satisfied gloats about the inevitability of his victory)

Continued Here

#star wars #my au #star wars au no 9 #wow this is a lot more plot than i meant to write but what else is new #I got incredibly sidetracked and I'm frustrated because I'm not even close to my main point #this happened with au 27 too #is this writing? #screw it I'm posting this I write a folllow up #MAYBE #fanfiction #i guess #how many words is this #3300?? #i mean on one hand that is a lot for me I would be proud of myself if I wasn't ignoring calls from my boss #on the other how the kriff to people just churn out 40000 word fics unreal people #as always every time I try to write it just magnifes the love I have for fic writers y'all are the best #no i will not edit this #this was supposed to be crack #CRACK #bad touch au #sw au

[skiyoosmi]

if fate permits

chapter twenty two: i love you

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note. i am sorry for the veeeery long wait; i finally finished it tonight (after fucking up with it for two whole months) but yeah, my emotions are quite unstable right now so this was affected by it (in short, this is a roller coaster ride so pls be ready)

playlist. stay (acoustic ver.); never let me go (both sung by ghostly kisses)

You absolutely had no idea what you were doing right now. As far as you could remember, you were the playwright, the writer of the script. You never had any interest in acting in plays, musicals, nor acting in general… none at all – so why is it that right now, you were standing right on the side of the stage, waiting for the cue for you to come out, dressed up as someone you weren’t supposed to be, someone you were only supposed to have written for?

You swear, this was the most chaotic crowd you have ever seen your whole life. You only watched, alongside Hajime, as people lined up right by the entrance of the university’s theater, murmuring and gossiping about the play that was less than an hour away from starting, “I gotta say, they look way too excited for a story that they should know like the back of their hands by now. It’s kind of funny,” Hajime chuckled, letting out a quiet ‘yeah’ as he shoved his hands in his pockets, watching you cringe on the girls that were obviously here for your best friend. You swore you heard one of them say they’re going to ask him out after the play and you almost wanted to drag her out of the venue by her hair.

“I would say it would be a waste of a ticket for people who are here just to gush about handsome faces instead of the story itself but then again, it’s us who are benefiting from it anyway.” You huffed and muttered a few more things under your breath, beginning to walk to the direction of the entrance for the crew members which was on the farther side of the theater, Hajime silently following and shaking his head out of amusement for your obvious jealousy. I can’t wait for the time when it’s me you’re being jealous for, he thinks.

You thought the crowd outside was chaotic? Nothing could have prepared you for the view you were welcomed to as soon as you entered the backstage. Literally, almost all of the crew members were running around frantically, pushing the small and large props here and there. Hajime, as if he had his ‘danger’ instincts set on, grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to his side just right when a random lad passed by where you were at a while ago, struggling to carry what looked like a heavy log on his shoulder (you figured it would be for one of the scenes that were supposed to be in the forest). You were sure as hell that if you weren’t moved out of the way by your friend, the lad would’ve collided with you and that thing he was holding would’ve fell on you because he was too busy looking back and chatting with his companion who was carrying other props.

Irritated by their carelessness, Hajime clicked his tongue and spoke up, “Oi, you two have to be careful and watch where you’re going. You might just cause an accident with what you’re doing.” The boys replied with an insincere apology, immediately going back to their business. You were soon brought to your senses as well and realized that you were still in his arms. Blushing profusely, you muttered a quiet ‘thanks,’ too flustered to think of a more decent reply. Hajime raised an eyebrow, smirking before leaning his head close to yours again, foreheads touching each other, much like the other day.

“You’re red. Are you feeling sick?” If it was someone he wasn’t close with, it would look like he’s just being concerned but you know better because you can practically hear the teasing behind his voice, so, you punched him right by his shoulders, muttering with a hint of shyness in your tone, “Asshole. Stop trying to tease me, it’s way too much for me. When the fuck did you even get so brave to act like this with me? Jerk.”

He cackled, slinging his arm around your shoulder, and beginning to pull you deeper inside the backstage. You both stood idly by the corner of the backstage, watching the actors get ready. From your position, you could see your blonde best friend, eyes looking lost as they wandered around the area until it stopped right to where you were. You think you held a staring contest for about twenty seconds until your companion spoke up, “You know, I personally think it would be better if you go to him and say your good luck, yeah? Nothing’s going to happen if you just stare at each other all day. I’m willing to share you with him… just for today though. After this, no more.” 

A confused expression formed on your face, wondering what he meant, though he just snickered and ruffled your head, “I said… go to him before I change my mind and pull you away from here.”

“I can’t. These days, I’ve been feeling way too many feelings and I don’t know how to control them. I feel like… I might just burst and tell him everything but I don’t want to. I’m not ready yet,” you admitted, fiddling with your fingers as you looked down, only for your head to be raised up again as Hajime held it up using your chin, a tender smile plastered on his face.

“Tell you what… if you lose control and everything goes astray, just look at me and I’ll save you, like a knight-in-shining-armor,” he whispers, patting you on the head before pushing you towards your best friend who was still looking, by the way. You took a deep breath, stopping right in front of him, biting your lip before opening your mouth to say something but Atsumu beat you to it, arms immediately going around your form and pulling you into a bone-crushing hug, “I’m sorry,” He mumbles into your hair, while you nod, reciprocating the gesture, “I… I’ve been such a shitty best friend, huh?”

“Yeah, right,” You huffed, trying to look mad and intimidating but it only came off as cute in Atsumu’s vocabulary, “After this, I’ll treat you to this really good restaurant. We can talk about anything and everything you want to tell me, even if they’re bad, I’ll listen, yeah?” He suggested, his hold on you still not loosening as he looked down on you, “I’d prefer it if only good things come out of your pretty mouth though.” 

You rolled your eyes, getting ready to retort as usual but a loud crash and a cry of pain interrupted you. Looking to the source of the sound, your eyes, as well as Atsumu’s widened. You can only watch as Yui, who was on the floor, clutching her ankles, angrily screech at the boy who was bowing his head and apologizing, the large piece of wood you luckily avoided a while ago found its victim and it’s the main actress of the play, “What the fuck! Why weren’t you watching where you’re going?! Look at what you did!”

Your best friend jogged towards her and once again, you were left behind. Love seriously sucks, you thought as you watch him try to shush Yui’s cries. The director, who heard about the situation, ran to where you are, asking what happened. “I think her ankles are injured, Miyu-chan,” you quickly replied, anxiety beginning to arise within you because what was supposed to happen now? You can’t cancel this play; you all have been working for months for this! Besides, the theater must be full of the audience now. As if she was reading your mind, she spoke up, “We can’t cancel this now, but we can’t force her to act as well. She can barely stand up, look. Mina, tell Mari to ask the audience to wait for a little while more, we have to think of a solution.”

By now, Atsumu was supporting her, making their way towards you with Yui limping, “Miyu-san…” “No, Yui. I know what you’re going to say but I won’t let you do that. Go to the infirmary and have your ankles checked. Your well-being is more important than this play,” the director firmly said, much to the brown-haired girl’s dismay.

“But you can’t cancel it! The people who bought the tickets will get mad! I can do this, it barely hurts, Miyu-san!” Yui pleaded, even going as far lifting her injured foot in a pathetic attempt to show that she was fine but it only put her to a worse situation as soon as she winced. Miyu only gave her a look of ‘I told you so.’ 

“Don’t worry about the play, Yui-chan. YN can replace you in your role.”

“What?!” “WHAT?” You simultaneously yelled out, obviously not expecting the sudden decision to be made, much less one that has something to do with you, “Wait, wait, wait… Miyu-chan, aren’t you being a little rash right now? I’m not a good actress!”

“She’s right!” Yui scoffed, “I’ve been practicing this for so long and you’re going to replace me with someone who never did?!” 

“That’s right,” Miyu nodded, crossing her arms, “She knows the script and the lines better than anyone here. And don’t try to fool me, YN, you know you can act.” Her unrelenting eyes told you that she knew everything there was to know; she’s been your friend for more than a year now, after all. 

“Oh, well. You won’t change my mind no matter what you say, so just go, Yui. Iwaizumi-kun, sorry for this sudden request but can you take Yui to the infirmary after what we’re going to do?” Hajime blinked but nodded, nonetheless. He feels somewhat sorry for the brunette who was on the verge of tears as she was helped by the crew members into one of the changing rooms to undress her costume.

It’s definitely not the first time in your life but you felt like vomiting the breakfast you had this morning.

You already lost count of how many times you took a deep breath in hopes that your heart will calm down. You listened as Mari neared the end of her welcoming rites and speech for the play, placing your hands on your chest as a final attempt to get tranquility within. The fairytale-like background music began to play and soon, a younger version of your character appeared on the stage; it’s the beginning of your Cinderella play. To be honest, you don’t even know where they got that child actress and how they managed to convince her to join the play but right now, you couldn’t care less because all you’re thinking of right now is how to not mess up your lines and deliver them with the proper emotions. 

Your brother, Osamu, Tooru, Makki and Mattsun, who you were sure as hell were in the audience, will never let you hear the end of it if you mess this up. You don’t want to live the rest of your days in Japan being a laughingstock. No way, you refu–

“You’re thinking too much about it. Calm down,” A voice from behind you interrupted, hands beginning to massage your shoulders to get your stiff muscles to relax. Turning around, you were met with the one and only Miya Atsumu in a prince costume. Right there and then, you felt like your heart’s going to burst for a different reason this time. 

Goodness heavens, Lord Jesus, thank you for blessing me with this beautiful man and letting me meet him, you thought as you savored the view in front of you, also thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Miya  for successfully creating Atsumu and delivering him to the Earth, it must have difficult to produce such fine masterpiece.

“Ya look… beautiful,” the blonde mutters, a hand rubbing his nape and sheepishly grinning, a slight blush adorning his cheeks, “Ya should dress up yourself from time to time, yanno? It really suits you.”

“Gee, thanks for calling me ugly on my normal days,” you scoffed, giggling when he let out a sound of disagreement, “No! That’s not what I meant, idiot!”

“I know.” 

Before you can continue your conversation, the signal for you to come out is finally closing in as the “stepsisters” appeared onstage. Rather shakily, you took a step forward, almost tripping on your dress due to your nerves. You were fortunate that Atsumu was attentive enough to grab your wrist, “YN, I told you to calm down.”

You gulped, nodding and taking a deep breath. He smiled upon seeing the determined look on your face and for some reason, his body moved on its own - placing a hand on your cheek with his thumb rubbing it, he approached you and placed his lips on your forehead. Maybe it’s because you were so nervous or maybe it’s because you longed for this moment for almost your whole life. Whatever the reason is, you just find yourself tearing up a little bit as he whispers, “That’s my girl.”

Never in your life had you wished that time can stop this much before. As you stood still in Atsumu’s embrace, you felt your heart being squeezed with so much love yet pain at the same time. How is it that he’s so close yet he’s someone you can’t have? 

“I love you, Atsumu,” you tell him, eyes still watery; heart hoping that it reaches him, that he picks up the meaning behind your words. But he doesn’t, as he stops to look at you, he squints his eyes in a joking manner as he speaks, “Hey, why do you look so emotional today?”

Disappointment grows in the depths of your whole being, though you don’t show him that. Because perhaps this was enough, you can try again another day. You’ll try and try until he finally understands. You can do that… you’ve been holding on pretty well the past fifteen years, so you huff instead, ignoring the painful thump of your heart, “Nothing, you jerk! Is it really that weird to hear me say I love you to you, hah?!”

You hear the dialogue of one of the stepsisters, calling out as your cue. You start to trudge forward but before you could fully go, he replies, “I love you too, YN, always remember that although I’m so shitty sometimes.”

Yeah, this is enough for now.

Perhaps, you shouldn’t have been so confident in saying that; you should’ve just been straight to the point because nothing has ever compared to the agony engulfing your insides as Miya Atsumu sat in front of you in a random booth of a restaurant, speaking the words you’ve always dreaded to hear as a Moira and as his very own soulmate, “YN, I think I’m done waiting for my soulmate. Can’t you just cut my thread off please?”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu smau #atsumu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #atsumu headcanons #iwaizumi headcanons #atsumu smau #iwaizumi smau #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu angst #haikyuu texts

[bowlegsandbiceps]

Suptober Day 5: Nostalgia

General | De-Aged Sam Winchester & Big Brother Dean, Implied Destiel and Rowena/Sam | 2,005 Words

Read on AO3

Suptober Masterlist (A03)

“Cas.”

“Dee!” The small child in front of Dean raised its arms and made gimme hands.

“CAS!”

Dean took a step back from the small boy sitting where his brother used to be, his arms curling in as if cringing away. It looked like Sam at eighteen months, just the slightest swirl of brown hair near his forehead, the rest of him bald as a cue ball. The child blinked up at him, arms still outstretched but his smile wavered and his hands gestured more insistently.

“Castiel get your feathery ass over here!”

The sound of hurried footsteps loomed behind him and he felt the weight of Castiel’s hand on his shoulder as the other man came to stand beside him.

“What is it?”

Dean nodded down at the baby. Castiel looked at it and blinked.

“Who is that?”

Dean knew who it was. “I dunno.”

“Where’s Sam?” Castiel looked around and Dean felt the lump grow in his throat.

The child had clamored onto his knees and was crawling across the cement towards them. Dean recoiled and Castiel stepped in front of him on instinct. The child merely went around him and grabbed onto Dean’s pant leg, grunting as he pulled himself up to his feet.

“Dee!” He said again, chubby face gazing up into Dean’s. “Up!”

“Dean?” Castiel’s voice was cautious as Dean leaned down to pick the child up, settling him on his hip and the boy immediately rested his head against DEan’s chest, one thumb going into his mouth. “I… I think that’s Sam.”

Dean gulped, looking down into intelligent hazel eyes. “I think you’re right.”

#

Dean and Castiel sat at one of the large library tables each just staring at the baby they’d placed in the middle. Neither men had spoken the entire drive back to the bunker, Dean driving with Sam in his lap while the kid made vroom noises and held onto the wheel. The chair creaked as Castiel shifted in his seat. Sam blew a spit bubble then giggled when it popped. Dean put his head in his hands.

“What do we do?”

“I could try and heal him,” Castiel suggested and Dean looked up at him.

“You can heal this?” 

Castiel shrugged with guileless eyes.

Dean dropped his head. “I can’t raise this kid again, Cas.” Dean pressed his hands together, his mouth puckering against the knuckles of his thumbs as he looked at Sam with terrified eyes. “I did it once. I can’t do it again. I’m too fucking old.”

Castiel laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “We’ll fix him. We’ll call Rowena.” Dean snorted. “What? She has a vested interest in getting Sam back into his adult form.”

Dean closed his eyes, holding up and hand and gagging for good measure. “Don’t remind me.”

#

Rowena was in New York and wouldn’t arrive until morning. Dean bit the bullet and went out for supplies - bottles, diapers, wipes, baby food, and a pack of onesies he just guessed on the size. When he got back to the bunker he could hear Sam wailing from the other side of the heavy iron door and he nearly broke his neck in his effort to descend the stairs all at once.

Sam was sitting in the middle of the table in the exact same spot he’d been when Dean had left. Castiel was now standing, staring down at the hiccoughing child with his head canted to the side. Dean dropped all his bags on the floor and hurried over, bundling Sam up in the flannel Sam had been wearing before he de-aged and cradled him to his chest. Sam immediately stopped crying and rested his head on Dean’s shoulder.

“What the fuck, Cas?”

“I tried everything, Dean.” Castiel held up his hands in a helpless gesture. “He didn’t want to play with my keys. He didn’t want any mashed potatoes. He threw the cup of water I tried to give him. He didn’t urinate or defecate on himself-“

“He wanted to be held!” Dean stared at Castiel as if he were some kind of monster and Castiel leveled him with a glare.

“I tried that first. He didn’t want to be held.”

“Well looks like he does now,” Dean snarked, shrugging his shoulders up and Castiel rolled his eyes.

“He wanted to be held by you, Dean.”

Dean looked down, trying to see Sam’s face but the child turned further into his neck and sighed. Dean pursed his lips. “What’s your problem short stack?”

“Dee,” Sam started and began to babble, lifting his head about halfway through his diatribe. He looked to Cas who was staring at him critically as if trying to decipher every word and Sam immediately looked away.

“Do you think he’s all there? Like adult Sam but just…a baby?” Dean looked into his eyes and Sam huffed, grabbing onto Dean’s face with his hands. Dean didn’t bother to pull back, knowing from experience the kid didn’t let up with this kind of thing. He stuck his fingers in Dean’s mouth and Dean dutifully let him poke at his teeth.

“I don’t think so,” Castiel reached forward, pulling Sam’s hands out of Dean’s mouth and Sam slapped at him, reaching again for Dean’s lips.

“Are you-“ Dean cut off nearly biting the kid’s finger off. “Are you hungry or something?”

“Dee!” Sam exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air and then he patted his tummy which made Dean laugh. 

“Yeah, the bear in there is growling huh?” Sam nodded emphatically and Dean bobbed his head with him. “Alright alright. Bottle it is.”

Castiel helped Dean carry the supplies into the kitchen and stood by as Dean went about making the bottle, formula mixed with a little cereal, with Sam perched on his hip. He huffed when he finally got the cap on and handed it to Sam who finally let go of his neck and grabbed the bottle, immediately shoving the nipple in his mouth. Dean looked up at Castiel.

“Like riding a bike,” Dean quipped looking down at Sam as his brother gazed up at him over the side of his bottle. “Right Sammy?”

Sam merely hummed. 

#

“You know, this isn’t so bad,” Dean mused gazing down at Sam who was now dressed in a diaper and onesie, sucking away at a pacifier. 

They were posted up on the couch in the Dean Cave, the TV playing Dora The Explorer in the background. Castiel’s gaze was fixed on the television and he was having trouble pulling his eyes away.

“He is much more enjoyable when he’s quiet,” Castiel admitted and Dean snorted a laugh, one finger trailing over the soft skin of Sam’s cheek. The baby shook his head.

“You know bedtime routine was always my favorite.” Dean smoothed the silky strip of hair near his forehead and Sam’s eyelids fluttered. “The winding down period at the end of the day. We’d be in some crap motel and Dad would have us all on one bed, Sammy between us while he talked us to sleep.”

“Talked you to sleep?”

A small smile pulled at Dean’s lips as one of Sam’s fat fists clutched at his finger. “Yeah, John Winchester did not sing. Or tell bedtime stories. He bored us to sleep with car maintenance tips and tricks.” Dean let out a spastic chuckle, marveling at the length of Sam’s lashes, the rosiness of his cheeks. “God, I’d forgotten all about that.”

Dean resettled, arms tightening around his brother and Sam’s eyelids fluttered, his head nuzzling into Dean’s armpit. Dean let his fingertips whisper across Sam’s forehead, a sense of longing settling in his bones. He glanced over at Castiel who was bent in half, intent on the TV.

“You know it wasn’t all bad. How we were raised.” Castiel glanced at him and then his gaze held. “I never thought I’d miss it but,” Dean let out a small chuckle, “This right here’s got me waxing nostalgic.” Dean chuckled again, gave a shake of his head. “It wasn’t all bad. Some of it was actually kind of great. You ever think about having kids, Cas?”

“It’s forbidden,” Castiel said, eyes back on the TV. “Angels can’t mate with humans.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah well, I ain’t got a uterus so we wouldn’t get one the old-fashioned way anyway. Seriously, man. You’ve never thought about it?”

Castiel looked back at Dean. “No. Have you?”

Dean shrugged. “Not really. Never figured I’d live long enough to raise one, plus I thought I’d had my fill with Sammy here.” Dean dipped his head, pressing a kiss to the child’s hairline.

“And now you want children?” Castiel’s voice was low and slow, clearly trying to discern if Dean was teasing him or not. Dean’s ears turned red.

“I dunno. No. Maybe.” Dean looked down at Sam and then looked back up at Castiel, his gaze helpless. Castiel merely smiled, reaching a hand out to rest on Dean’s shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze.

“I would be honored to raise a child with you, Dean.”

Dean looked back, a little grin pulling at his lips. “Yeah?” Castiel nodded seriously and Dean looked down at Sam. “What do you think, Sammy? You want a niece or nephew?”

Sam slept on.

#

“I take it back,” Dean insisted, gagging and covering his mouth as he lifted Sam up by the ankles, the dirty diaper sticking to his butt. “I never wanna do this again.” Dean looked over his shoulder at Castiel. “Hey, Mr. Angel of the Lord, you wanna give me a hand here, maybe toss this dirty diaper and hand me some wipes.”

“The smell is most unpleasant.”

Dean rolled his eyes, snatching the wipes Castiel offered. “No shit Sherlock. Get rid of that thing will you?” Dean gagged again.

#

“How on earth did you manage to turn your brother into a baby?” Rowena exclaimed by way of greeting.

“Dean, Rowena is here.”

Dean having startled awake cringed as Sam started to wail. “Yeah, Cas, I got that, thanks.”

“Was it a curse?” Rowena was kneeling down, trying to look into Sam’s face but he clutched at Dean’s flannel like a lifeline, hiding against his chest. “A spell?”

“A spell we think,” Castiel said over Sam’s sniffling sobs. Dean had hoisted him up over his shoulder and was rubbing his back rhythmically. Rowena frowned. “Sam was the first to enter the room-“

“Ah, I know exactly what this is.” Rowena smiled, triumphant. “You leave it to me, boys. Samuel will be grown again in no time.”

# 

“Rowena!” Dean yelled over the siren-like wail of the now giant baby sitting in the center of the library. 

“Don’t panic!” Rowena insisted, flipping through an old book while rummaging around in her bag.

“Panic?” Dean questioned. “There’s a ten-foot baby-“ His voice cut off as a hand clamped around his bicep and he was jerked off his feet to face plant into Sam’s clammy chest. The kid started to squeeze the life out of him and Castiel moved forward, trying to pry his arms off. “Rowena!”

#

“I can’t believe she turned me into a ten-foot baby,” Sam snorted from where he sat at the kitchen table, once again fully clothed and his normal age and size.

“You were quite agreeable up until then,” Castiel mused.

“Oh yeah, you get to practice your babysitting skills?” Sam asked and Castiel gave him a tart smile.

“No, you wouldn’t let anyone else touch you but Dean.”

Sam’s eyebrows rose, his gaze moving to his brother who stood at the stove, working on a grilled cheese. “Yeah, I’d forgotten what a clingy little shit you were back then.”

Sam scoffed. “Well, I still haven’t forgotten what an overbearing mother hen you were.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m never having kids. Dealing with my own childhood was enough.”

Dean glanced at Castiel who gazed back, and a small smile tugged at his lips. “It wasn’t so bad. Except for the diapers.”

#suptober21 #writing by me #fanfic: supernatural

[kusagrasskusa]

Hanzo Hisashi X Innocent! Reader

Thank you EzraPFoxglove01for requesting this adorable thing! I sorta changed a lot you asked for by making it go into depth, and it ended up being the longest story I've ever written lol. So I'm definitely gonna add a shorter, more cutesy version of this story soon.

Change her outfit all you wish; it doesn't have a big part in the story at all. Though due to where she lives, it sorta makes sense for traditional Japanese wear to be her attire. And this is the kimono I have in mind, but change whatever :D To be honest, it makes sense to change the look to be more suitable for fighting while still maintaining an innocent, feminine character.

Word Count: 6733

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hay....ya!" A feminine voice yelled out as she kicked a large hole into a tree. She didn't really have an specific training area so she often kicked and punched holes into tough looking trees, which proven to be as affective as training dummies and whatnot. She pulled away from the tree with a large smile on her innocent features.

She held her arms up to her chest with clinched fists. "Alright! Just 113 more to go," she reminded herself as she prepared for another kick. Yet just before she kicked the tree, she heard rustling in the bushes surrounding her.

She paused and looked around her everywhere. The wind began to blow which made it hard to hear whoever or whatever move again as the wind blew the all the bushes. She made a pouty face and walked over to where she heard the noise the first time. She had a bag that wrapped around her colorful kimono that contained kunai knives, and she pulled one out just in case. To be honest, with her small, airhead, and pouty form, she was the least intimidating person most people could ever see. And her small, F/C kimono with cherry trees on it added onto it.

The wind slowed down for a second and in that time, rustling in the bushes was heard again, where it did last time. "Huh?" She hummed as she slowly and cautiously opened up the bushes. "W-Who's there!" She yelled nervously as she parted the bushes completely. "Ahhh!" She screamed as she stepped back, tripping on whatever she stepped on. A baby bunny jumped on top of her from the bushes, it's guinea pig looking face staring boldly at her. Fuck it was frightening for a bunny to withhold so much toughness and boldness.

She whined as she pulled the bunny of her, causing it to run away quickly. She stumbled to her feet, barely managing to maintain her own balance for a moment. She watched the bunny hop away into the forest as she calmed her nerves. Once it disappeared, she sighed and opened her bag to put away her knife. Yet the sound of a voice behind her caused her to throw it towards the voice with perfect aim and fast speed. Yet as she turned around, she saw her kunai knife had been frozen but it wasn't frozen quick enough to prevent the one and only Kuai Liang from behind cut a little.

"Good aim," the Sub Zero complimented in his deep and husky voice, a smirk on his face. He pulled the kunai from the ice prison it was it and tossed it towards Y/N. Y/N's innocent E/C eyes widened as she gasped.

"Liang!" She ran towards him to hug him– but no, we can't have that without her tripping halfway. "Oof!" She hit the ground hard and whined as she slowly stood back up. She had cut her face on a rock but that wasn't good enough for her to not want to hug him just as hard. So once she stood up, she lunged at him and hugged him so incredibly hard. "I missed you! How are you!"

Kuai chuckled as he softly wrapped his arms around her. "I see you haven't changed one bit, dear friend." It's true that the two of them are close friends; although they don't have any fundamental qualities in common, they managed to meet one day and their opposite personalities captured each other's interest. And so here they are, together after departed months back. Right after Sub Zero and others were free from Quan Chi, the two got close again and only had a couple weeks to get close again before Kuai had to leave. Finally, months later, they're together again!

"I've been just fine, L/N. How about yourself?" He asked as he pulled his arms down. As expected, Y/N didn't let go and continued to sway back and forth.

"Oh, I've been good! Sorta lonely, yeah but I met this one guy! He leads an entire clan that let me in!" Y/N sweet voice called out in reply, her eyes twinkling. "I don't see him often but we've been talking a lot more recently. He's really nice...like a big, strong, teddy bear, hehe," she giggled as her legs went limp. Kuai chuckled at her dramatic description and pat her head; pushing the person she's talking about to the back of his mind. She got back on her feet again and pulled away from him. "Sooooo...do you have any combat stories to share? An adventure?"

Kuai shook his head. "Unfortunately nothing to tell now, but soon," he spoke as he looked up at the bright blue sky. It was maybe 8 in the morning  at the time. Y/N held her arms in front of her as she swayed back and forth as her head tilted in confusion.

"Okay...Oh! There's flowers growing around here and I want you to see it. They're so pretty- and pink," She emphasized as she took Kuai's hand and pulled him to a nearby pond. The trees surrounding the pond were waves with red and pink flowers ground from them. It's hard to tell, but in the distant was a village. And jn that village was, drum roll please, Hanzo Hizashi himself. As the two friends spoke about the scenery, Hanzo had just gotten ready for a day of training.

As he stepped outside, he took a deep breath and examined the place surrounding him. The birds were singing, the soft winds brushing past the trees and plants, the warm sun and clear skies. The sound of children playing can be heard from the background. It was pure bliss really. Yet even so, he had an uneasy feeling wash over him. The feeling that there could possibly be an unwanted visitor.

Hanzo walked closed the door behind him and walked out. He took his time going from his home to a place a little outside of the village; a more personalized dojo. It contained dummies and targets designed for his spear and fire. The little dojo was little ways across a pond near the village so that's where he was headed.

"And that's why that's my favorite color," Y/N said as she finished her story. Kuai Liang, to be honest, wasn't paying attention to her at all and simply nodded. She smiled at his politeness to at least pretend to acknowledge what she's saying; Y/N knows she can get really immature sometimes and right now really isn't her best moment. "Eheh, so what do you want to do?"

Kuai looked over at her with a soft smile on his features. He really was such a peaceful man at heart. "I believe I saw a few rare ducks fly into the pond. Would you like to go see them?"

"You're not going anywhere."

Y/N sharply turned her head towards the pissed looking man walking towards the duo and gasped. She stood up, saying, "Kuai, this is the man that let me into his village! Hey Hanzo, this is Kuai‐"

"He already knows who I am," Kuai cut her off coldly and stood up. "Hanzo, I mean you no harm; had I known this was your territory, I would not have come." Hanzo pulled a sword from his back and held it up in a firey fists once he got close to them. Y/N stared idlely at them with growing anxiety. The two picked up on that quickly, making Kuai speak up again before Hanzo could. "The girl does not know of our rivalry. Don't punish her for my mistake, Hanzo‐"

"Do no speak to me like that. Leave at once!" Hanzo may be alive, but that doesn't mean he can't revert his voice back to his hellish Scorpion one. Kuai took a few steps back before turning around and disappearing. Hanzo and Y/N watched the whole way through in complete silence. Once Kuai was gone, they silence broke.

"I–"

"And you," Hanzo walked up to her and grabbed her by the collar of her shirt. "Exactly what made you think bringing a guest without permission was anywhere near exceptable? You endanger every one of us at this village that way." Y/N could feel his fire-hot breath against her as he spoke. A shiver fell down her spine as looked him right in the eye. She didn't respond, but rather bow her head. Hanzo scoffed, flames igniting from his fist that began to burn her clothes, making her whimper beneath him. She felt the flames heating up her neck, which made her whimper more as the pain wasn't something she was exposed to often. "Part of me wants to kill you right now. You are very lucky to have caught me in a better light."

Hanzo let go of her, stepping away. Y/N bowed her full body lowly, hands to her knees. "I'm deeply sorry sir, I really am. I promise I will never bring another guest again. I knew not of Kuai and your's relationship and if I had known when I met him in the woods a little bit ago, I would have got him to leave. It was foolish of me to have not stayed in the village and possibly risks a bloody situation. For that, I am sorry." As Y/N finished, she heard nothing but the sound of a sword being put away.

"As long as this never happens again, L/N," he spoke coldly. "I forgive you. You may continue what you were doing before he arrived here."

"Thank you so much, sir!" Y/N called out happily as she stood up straight with a smile on her face. "I promise you won't regret it!" Hanzo remained quiet and simply glanced down instead. A more calm and positive feeling took over his previous anger quickly, leaving behind a little bit of confusion. Y/N took a few steps back over to where that tree she was kicking earlier was before Hanzo spoke up again.

"I apologize for being so harsh, as well. You said you met you here; was this planned?" He asked her as he his fists were undone. Y/N shook her head when she turned back towards him. Hanzo examined her face for a moment before sighing, then a smile grew on his face. "Very well. I appreciate your honesty. Actually, would you care to join me for tea later? As leader of this clan, it feels right for me to know all my people, whether they are a weary traveler or blood."

"Of course I would," she said softly. "What time?"

"Tomorrow at dawn."

"So be it." And with that, Hanzo began to walk towards his dojo and Y/N walked towards her special tree. The two of them had that tea on their minds as they practiced whatever it is they were practicing. How would it turn out? Would Y/N innocent immaturity get her in trouble? Would Hanzo appear too serious? Will they make up and gain trust? Maybe something else? We'll see in the next paragraph.

Time flies by quickly when you're having a good time, and for Hanzo, he was quite happy about the thought of getting to know Y/N more. And also to learn more of her relations with Kuai. As for Y/N, she was nervous as all hell since she knows she can be a handful sometimes. To be honest, a simple deep breath was able to calm her down and bring the adult side out of her. So here she was now, looking at herself in the mirror of her guest cabin and taking deep breaths to calm her nerves.

"You got this Y/N," she told herself as she took her final deep breath. The kimono she was wearing was different as it was longer and above the wrists, meaning she was unmarried. It still had a pretty design on it, with the colors overall being F/C, pink, yellow, and blue. The had her H/C hair up in a bun with two strands falling over her shoulders. She had a pin that kept her hair up with a beautiful flower attached to it. To contribute to her Japanese asthetic, she had a folded fan that was black with red cherry trees designs in it in her hand.

She smiled at herself in the mirror one more time before she turned to face the door. She slid open the door to the guest home and put on her shoes before walking outside. She closed the door and prepared to head off the selected location. On the other hand, Hanzo was sure to be formal as well.

He wore a montsuki, which is a formal black kimono worn over a white under-kimono and hakama, which are traditional Japanese trousers. It was common for samurais to wear this underneath their armor, so it suited him well. After all, he was both ninja and samurai; he kept his hair in a man manbun as well. He was very good at maintaining a formal way of speaking and acting, yet he knew Y/N isn't all that. Someone as free spirited and naive really isn't all that capable of it, in his mind.

He was sitting down in a chabudai; one of those short legged tables that have cushions to sit on your knees on rather than to sit on chairs. At the moment, in another room of his lonely home, was a kettle that was boiling water. Authoress is not a Japanese fanatic who knows Japanese and is basing these designs of real Samurai and Wife dolls by their bed, I swear. It was perhaps halfway done by the time he heard a voice call from the outside of the front door; "Hello, it's Y/N. May I come in?"

Hanzo smiled softly to himself as he stood up and walked over to the door, sliding it open. To say he was shocked to see the free spirited girl in such a good-mannered attire was an understatement. "You look lovely tonight," he stated as he looked Y/N head to toe. On Y/N's side, she noticeably blushed and gave him a sweet look.

"You look lovely as well, truly."

Hanzo raised a brow and stepped aside for Y/N to step inside. And rather than her normal fast walk with swaying arms side to side, she slowly walked in with her hands held together in front of her. "I haven't yet seen this side of you, Miss L/N. I am a proper kind of person so don't think I won't hold it against you if you act unmannerly," he teased as Y/N giggled to herself and took her shoes off at the front door.

"I thought that maybe I should act a bit more, I guess, fancy in order to match you. As long as you don't believe in the whole women are beneath us bigger men and shouldn't talk unless spoken to thing, then this shouldn't be too hard, hehehe," Y/N said as she was lead to the chabudai by Hanzo. She sat down on her knees on side and he on the other.

"Of course I would not act on such a thing. We are all human with equal rights," Hanzo replied as he sat his hands in his lap. His looked down at Y/N'a hands, which were on the table, before shooting her a look that told her that she was doing something wrong. Y/N hummed in confusion before gasping lightly. She put her hands in her lap and smiled innocently, creating a chuckle from Hanzo.

Come to think of it, the hone hasn't yet been described. It's easy to imagine the paper and wood that made up the walls and doors, and the warm light that shun over the two people. The carvings on the wood above them and around them, the large pot with a bonsai in it in the corner of the room. The little wooden seats with drawers distilled in them built into the walls of the home. The wooden tables with traditional statues and little plants in pots across the home. The sword holder near the front door, the mats across the floor to give the unique taste. In the kitchen had built in furnaces where people would burn a fire in the wholes on the bottom and put cooking appliances and kyūsus on top of it. If you don't want to imagine that, here's something help.

"Have you ever studied Japanese arts? Surely you must have had some experience in a place like this, or perhaps a friend to lecture you on what to do," Hanzo explained his thought process as he looked interestingly at the smaller girl.

"Actually, I had Kuai teach me a lot about Chinese culture. But when I met a swordsman named Kenshi, I learned more of Japanese tradition. I may not be the best, but I tried to use my knowledge of both cultures to act as good as possible! Um, I mean," she paused as her face lit up red. "To act as good as possible." She but the inside of her lip nervously as she grew more and more embarrassed of her voice level as she spoke. Hanzo chuckled.

"I'm glad I invited you here. You are very knowledgeable it seems. Plus quite entertaining," he complimented. The kyūsu began to steam loudly, meaning it was finished. Hanzo glanced over to the kitchen.

"Heh, I wouldn't say knowledgeable," Y/N replied, "but thank you." Hanzo stood up, nodding his head towards her as he walked put of the room.

"I apologize but the tea must be attended to. I will be back in a few moments," Hanzo explained before he disappeared behind a wall. Y/N nodded in understandment and began to fight with her hair, kimono ends, fingers, and whatever else she could once he walked out. When Hanzo walked into the kitchen, he felt heat rise to his face. He leaned onto a little table with his hand on it to keep his steady and his other hand over his chest. Oh kami, he thought, she gets cuter each time I see her. Whether she's trying to be like me but failing miserably or being her bubbly self does not matter; she is perfect.

He did his best to calm his nerves before grabbing the kettle from the furnace and grabbing a kyūsu, an appliance for making tea, and slowly pouring hot water into it. He made a kind of sweet green tea, one that many foreigners don't know about, called Sencha. It has to be made with the coolest kind of hot water, basically, otherwise it will turn bitter. He made sure the watch it carefully for about half a minute before grabbing two cups and pouring the tea. He then picked up the two cups and headed back to the chabudai. Yet before he got to the room, he paused.

A feminine voice sung a soft song as she waited for Hanzo to return. Hanzo felt his cheeks heat up again and his chest felt warm. He could recall this feeling but from where he first felt it is unknown to him. The ready may be able to assume that he was thinking of his first love, his wife, and how he felt when he fell in love with her. But that idea hadn't even crossed his mind as he felt there was no way he could ever feel such an extreme emotion towards anyone else. And marriage isn't even a question since she isn't from the clan. He took a deep breath before walking back into the room.

Y/N stopped singing and she smiled widely as she saw him. "Hey Hanzo! Or, um, sorry, haha. The tea smells very nice," she complimented as she gripped the sides of the cup with her little fingers. Yeah, there was definitely a way he could feel such an extreme emotions towards anyone else. Hanzo sat down on his knees on the other side of her, mumbling a quick thank you to Y/N and a thank you to the Gods' gift of tonight. And in his mind, a thank you for what to him felt like a gift from the Gods' to end his grief from his early wife.

"Mm! This is really good!" Y/N gasped after tasting it. "This is the best tea I've ever had!" Her eyes were wide in awe and her expression showing her impressment. Hanzo chuckled at her adorable reaction as he took a sip of his wom drink. It's been maybe 8 minutes since Y/N got there and she already forgot to remain all traditional and civil. It was adorable to him; she was so precious really.

And throughout the night, the two of them talked and laughed and jokes and got close. They remained at the chabudai most of the night, aside from when Y/N asked for a tour. She adored the bonsais, scenery that can be seen from outside the window, paintings around the home, and everything. She was so naive but to Hanzo, that wasn't particularly a bad thing. It made her all the more fun to be around. And because of how great of a night they were having, they even agreed to meet up the next day.

"Excuse me, Miss Y/N," Hanzo said as he stood up from the chabudai. "I will be back in one moment. Please help yourself to more tea if you'd like."

"I will," Y/N responded sweetly. Oh, on a side note, Y/N completely forgot about the traditional thing completely so don't expect her to stay put in the few minutes Hanzo was gone. Actually, by the time Hanzo came back, Y/N had her head in her arms on the table her body slowly rising and falling with the rhythm of her breaths. Hanzo couldn't help but find himself smiling down at her. He got that warm feeling in his chest again though it was different this time. It wasn't as unfamiliar as before. He knew what it was; it was love slowly blossoming.

He sighed softly before picking up the sleeping girl's tired form and carrying her against his chest. She shifted a little bit in his grasp and ended up being hudled against him more, making that warn feeling in Hanzo's chest grow more. Such a sweet, innocent creature. He slid open his door and brought her back to her guest home, where he laid her in bed and brought her hair down from its updo in order for it to not be as bad of a mess tomorrow. He kissed her forehead and then left to sleep in his own bed until the next morning.

The next day was the same as the previous. And then the day after that, and the day after that day, and so forth. But one day was a particularly cold day and a cold blanket of snow began to cover the land. Y/N was at Hanzo's place, watching the snow fall through an open window with her E/C eyes wide in amazement at the beauty. Hanzo was standing behind her with two cups of tea in his hand.

"Would you care for a drink?" He asked, making Y/N turn around.

"Thank you, Hanzo!" She said as she took the drink from him and took a big sip. It tasted sweet, as it was the tea she had when she came over for the first time. "Say, I sorta wish we could have gone outside today. I noticed that you like to fight in that place by the pond a lot; which is really great to watch! You're so strong, hehe. But you've never actually seen me fight before," she explained right before she took a sip of tea. "Y'know, I'm painfully aware that people view me as an immature, innocent, naive girl who isn't the most aware of her surroundings. But I think you'll be impressed to see what I can do," she said confidently as she hummed.

Hanzo took a sip from his tea and nodded. "Perhaps. When it gets warmer out, I'd love to watch what you can do," he replied with an extra caring tone with his voice. He caught onto his tone quickly and blushed a little bit. "But there is something we can do outside," he started.

"What is it?" Y/N asked, standing up.

"Well, there's a hotspring nearby. We can swim in there if you'd like. However be sure to dress in something not too revealing if you would like to."

"There is? I'd love to!" She exclaimed as she bounced up and down. "I'll dmgi get dressed now," she eagered on as she put her shoes back on before leaving. Hanzo grabbed her up of tea and brought it to the kitchen. It's a shape it would go to waste, but he can always make more. He returned to his bedroom to grab something to put on while swimming but please, just imagine what he'd wear to swim. Traditional swimwear is too nasty to be used in this book, but swimming trunks are too modern. As for Y/N, considering she never had a particular home or culture, it made sense for her to just wear a full body suit she could have gotten from anywhere in Earthrealm.

Of course, the both of them were sure to bathe before hopping into the hot spring. Well, Hanzo slowly got in whereas Y/N jumped in without any care. It was warm, shocker there.

"Ahh...Thank the Elder Gods for getting me here before I froze to death," Y/N shuddered as chills ran up her spine. Though those chills were disappearing as the warmth of the hot spring washer over her soon enough. Hanzo rested his body against the large rocks around the hot spring and found a seat-like area. Y/N swam around happily and sung to herself.

Oh, one thing worth mentioning for the sake of the next paragraph is that Y/N had a necklace around her neck. Hanzo had never noticed it before as it was always under her kimono or shirt. However that necklace had a great significance go it; she was told that with that necklace, she would be able to find her parents who seemed to have lost her at birth. That necklace was the only thing that remained of them and hopefully destiny was kind enough to help her find her parents.

"Kyaa–" shrieked as a splashing sound was heard. Hanzo stopped daydreaming and looked over at Y/N, who's hair covered he face and arm frantically tried to keep her body floating. She quickly pushed her hair out of her face and whined over and over again worried. Hanzo instinctively swam over there as fast as possible, grabbing ahold of her gently yet sturdy. "Where is it!" She cried out, feeling her body and looking around the waters.

"Where is what?" Hanzo asked in his husky voice that was now in a confused tone.

"My necklace! I can't find my necklace!" She replied worriedly, tears swelling in her eyes. Hanzo looked at the tears forming and felt his whole body shiver woman's his heart drop. "I can't see it anywhere!" Hanzo began to swim towards the rock formation he was against earlier, making Y/N cry out, "wait!"

"Y/N," Hanzo sternly spoke. "I will find your necklace and return it. Worry not, please, dear friend," he reassured, taking her hand in his. She shook nervously and wiped her tears. Slowly, she nodded which told Hanzo he could swim away now. And so he did; he headed towards the stop where she cried out and with one deep breath, he went underwater. He had to hold his nose for warm waters were very dangerous to go under as dangerous fungi grow in hot waters. Yet even so, he swam to the bottom of the hot spring using one hand to stir around to look for the necklace.

Y/N waited on the rocks, sniffing and whimpering. She hasn't told Hanzo the origin of the necklace, but he could tell it was important to her. When she was little, she was handed the necklace and was told it would help her find her missing mother as long as she stayed pure. What that means is that Y/N had to remain free from murder, theft, and other ways of sin. Not only that, but she could not ever preform certain adult actions as then she would never find her parents (I say that because Y/N never had a parent figure to teach her what nono stuff is), which is her number one goal in life. She grew up going from city to city, state to state, country to country, and even had been in Outworld before. She grew up with so many cultures and had never found someone that was like her in any way. It felt like she didn't have an identity as she had nothing to trace her orgins to.

Splash! Hanzo took a deep breath of air as he finally reached the surface again, with a silver necklace with a S/F/C gem inside it that's carved to show an unknown design. "Is this your necklace?" He asked as he held it up. Y/N gasped, lunging back into the water and swimming towards Hanzo. Once she got up to him, she wrapped her arms around his muscular figure and cried.

"You found it! Thank you so much!" She cried out happily, pressing her body against him. Hanzo blushed at the sudden affection and slipped the necklace back onto her. He adjusted the back of of it so it wouldn't fall off her so easily again. "I love Hanzo... You're the best friend I've ever had... I really mean it," she whimpered out. Hanzo began to swim towards the rock formation again and once he did, Y/N let go of him.

"I appreciate it, Y/N. I love you as well, you're the closest friend I've ever had," he said back to her with a warm smile on his features. Y/N smiled back at him before examining her unharmed necklace.

"Hmm... Ever since I could remember, I would move from every country in the world to another. I've been to Paris, Beijing, New York, London, Los Angeles, a few different places in Mexico and Colombia, Holland, Tokyo, Osaka, and many more. I was carried from place to place by various of adoptive mothers, and each of them left a bit of their culture and identity with me by the time I left.

"But I had one that was a fortune teller and psychic. She was incapable kf having kids and didn't want to go through the trouble of raising one, so she took me, an 11 year old girl. She gasped when she saw me and took me in immediately. Before I left her, she gave me this necklace. "Y/N," she said, "you have the potential to see your real parents again. Train, grow stronger, read, grow smarter, listen, grow wiser. Stray away from the evil in the world and remain pure from your soul to your body. This is how you'll find your mother.""

Y/N paused and looked up at the larger male. He seemed intrigued with her story and made sure to listen carefully to her every word. So she continued, "as I grew older and began to travel on my own, I thought of her words every single hour of every day. I had no reason to live as I ever did was travel and meet new people, only to leave and never see them again. Just knowing who I really was became my only reason for existing. To this day, I bet the relief of meeting my real mom will feel like being deaf and hearing music, or being blind and seeing color, or being able to walk again after being paralyzed. But now," she paused.

Y/N smiled and looked up at Hanzo. "It's strange to feel so in place, so correct. I-I know I never felt this way about any place before! But I really think that as long as you're around, my chances of meeting my mom are good! Just being with you gives me hope for the next day, truly. It's like being with you is my reason to exist."

Hanzo closed his eyes and smiled back at her. He wrapped his arms around and embraced her warmly, his head being filled with nothing but pure bliss. Y/N hugged back tightly, feeling just as happy as he is right now.

And just as soon as it came, the day was over and the two had to return home and sleep. But this particular night, their dreams were better than usual. And two days later, the snow had cleared up and the ground was dry! That meant Y/N could go train today! Unfortunately, with her absent-mindedness, she forgot she wanted Hanzo to watch her so she remained in private as she kicked thicc ass trees down in two strong kicks and crushed stones into bits by simply punching it once.

"Hai...ya!" She called out as she forcefully brought her first to a stone celler that was abandoned randomly in the woods. But hey, no one was using it, so who's gonna cry about it being broken? The impact of her punch brought a giant circular impact onto the wall, and bits and pieces of it fell down. "Hehehe! 22 more to go!" She thought out loud as she pulled her fist back again. She wasn't alone in these woods, no, as there was a particular ninja/samurai person thing, idk, watching from the nearby bush. Not to be creepy of course! He was on his way to his dojo but heard noises, and discovered it was her after checking it out.

And d a m n. If Y/N saw his shocked face the first time he saw her punch the wall with that much force and endurance, she would laugh and tease him about it for a long time. He didn't expect her to be so quick in her movements and to cause such force. Like, a short little bebe in a pink, cutesy kimono with cherry blossoms being able to cause a fucking massacre to the wall? How could you blame him?

"Hmm... that reminds me!" Y/N exclaimed as she spun around to look at Hanzo. "I told you that you should watch me train! Is that what you were doing?"

Hanzo blushed heavily and was unfortunately incapable of hiding it in the direct daylight. "Indeed, Y/N. This is truly a wonderful sight to see," he replied as he looked away for a moment. Y/N gasped and ran towards him. He took a few steps back when he noticed how close she gotten, which caused him to get a little bit more flustered.

"You're sick? You're face is all red, Y/N whined as she pulled Hanzo closer. "You should be inside, mister, getting better! Not out here watching me fight when it's colder out here! Let's go bring you inside," he said as she grabbed his muscular arm and held it close. She turned towards the village of the Shirai Ryu and began walking towards it, pulling Hanzo along. How bold.

Hanzo but his bottom lightly and remained as flustered as before. "There really is no need, Y/N," he replied back.

"You're being quite irresponsible for a ninja, y'know," Y/N replied as she continued to walk him home. Hanzo sighed and just let her pull him along. He knew she would question him if he told her he wasn't sick so he choose into except it.

"Thank you for your concern," he replied lowly. Y/N giggled proudly and nodded.

"The best for you!" They arrived to the pathways of the village and began their walk. There was a few pedestrians walking by, including a dad and daughter and a separate woman. "I'll make you some tea and you can go to bed, okay?" Hanzo nodded, smirking to himself about how funny the situation really is.

"How caring," Hanzo spoke as they arrived at his home. The got inside and took their shoes off at the front door.

"Of course," she replied before heading towards the kitchen to make tea. Hanzo wasn't sick but he's been tired lately and what's wrong with sleeping in for one day? When he got the tea, it no doubt tasted way too bitter as Y/N doesn't really know what she's doing to be honest. But hey, it's the thought that counts.

Hanzo lied in bed, with an empty cup by his side and an small girl on the other. She sat on the bed, talking to him quietly about a bunch of random things until she said something strange. "To be honest, I know this is weird, but it almost feels like we're married sometimes. I mean, we're together all the time and have a very close friendship. You let me drag you in here and give you bitter tea even though you didn't want to. That's really nice, hehe," she giggled as she looked over at Hanzo. Her eyes shun something different from simply joy this time. Instead, it showed rather care. And potentially something more.

Hanzo felt a shiver go down his spine as he looked deep into Y/N's eyes. Emhe had to examine them to ensure that he wasn't just crazy or actually sick, but no, it looked like she really did care about him more than a friend. After all these months, it was officially, wasn't it? It was mutual. Hanzo smiled as he sat up on the bed. Y/N's cheeks lit up a little bit as he stared down at her with that look.

"Sometimes it really does feel like that, does it not? I can see as a good pair to be truthful. What about you?" Hanzo asked softly. Y/N cheeks flushed pink and her expression softened.

"I agree, definitely. I mean, how can I not, heh heh. You've been there from the very beginning and I've always seen you as this big, strong teddy bear of sorta. So sweet, so nice, so caring," she replied. Hanzo leaned in, making Y/N want to lean in too. And slowly, the pair came together and finally...they kissed. It was soft, tender, and it felt like it was meant to happen. Y/N's face turned red and Hanzo's tense emotions he felt disappeared immediately.

Heh, you know what? To be honest, they lady next door was known to be crazy about losing her baby girl a very long time ago. They had matching necklaces that were bought from a village far away from their's years ago when the Shirai Ryu was attacked by Quan Chi's forces. She escaped and went into hiding, and then found a man to marry to. Her child was named Y/N L/N, and whether she's not fully Japanese or fully related into the Japanese clan, she is blood and therefore she is capable of being the love of Hanzo Hisashi. Maybe the two of them will meet some day, huh?

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mk x reader #mk9 #mk11 #mk10 #mkx mortal kombat x #mkx #mkxl #scorpion #scorpion x reader #innocent reader #hanzo x reader #hanzo hisashi #hanzo hisashi x reader

[trashforhockeyguys]

Don’t Hold Me -19- Carter Hart

A/N: as always, all previous parts are linked in my master list. Also, umm don’t hate me for what happens at the very end. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE  at the end as well, so if that could potently be triggering for you please be warned.

There was a moment, right when you first opened your eyes that you could’ve sworn you were a teenager again. You could hear Travis arguing with Ethan just feet from you, with the sound of someone playing NHL in the background. You felt so warm due to a blanket that someone had to have tossed over you at some point during the night. You wondered if you would see your house when you opened your eyes.

But there was an arm wrapped around you. So you couldn’t be at home. You were in Travis’s apartment. Ethan came in to help you and Kora move all of your things into a storage unit for the summer. He was going to stay for part of the playoffs. Carter was sleeping next to you. You’d both fallen asleep during a movie. 

You wiggled out from under Carter’s arm, following the sound of the voices to the kitchen. Kora, who still looked half asleep, was tucked under Ethan’s arm. Nolan was playing NHL in the living room, yelling at one of the other Flyers through a headset. In your gut, you knew this was what a normal morning with them. This is what life should be like. 

“Y/N! Tell him that he’s wrong!” Travis begged, pointing to Ethan. 

You shook your head, still too tired to even start to get into their mess, “Please tell me someone made coffee?”

Kora stepped away from E, “I’ll pour you a cup.”

“Carter still knocked out?” Ethan asked as you sat down on one of the bar stools. 

“Yeah, you two arguing woke me up,” You responded slowly, “What were you two arguing over anyway?”

“Don’t ask,” Kora handed you a cup of coffee, “They’re being guys.”

“They’re arguing over who had more points when they played together,” Nolan announced from the couch. 

“Oh, that’s easy, it was Ethan,” You shrugged, “Travis had the most penalty minutes.”

Kora had to hold back a laugh at the face that Travis made. Truth was, although Travis was an incredible player, even then, he was still very scrappy. He made a lot of bad plays and often let his head get the better of him. Ethan was always more level headed, and was responsible for more than his fair share of assists. But when the two of them were on the ice together, nothing was going to stop them. You missed watching them together like that. 

“Someone had to do all the dirty work,” Travis explained, “But I don’t get that many penalties now.”

Kora reached over and messed up his hair, “No, you behave now. Like a good little feisty Canadian.”

“Careful, he bites when provoked,” Carter joked, finally seeming to have woken up. 

“Better watch it, we have practice in a couple of hours, I won’t take it easy on you,” Travis warned. 

“Okay Teeks, sure,” Carter kissed the top of your head, “Morning babe.”

You felt your cheeks heat up a little as you tilted your head to look up at him. This was something you could really get used to, all of you being together like this. You and Kora had to move out of the dorm, since the year was finally over. So Travis was letting her and Ethan crash at his place, while you stayed with Carter. Although, last night all of you ended up over here to watch movies and eat pizza. Nolan casually reminded everyone that pizza was not a part of the approved playoff diet. 

“Sleep okay?” Carter asked you, taking a sip of your coffee. 

You nodded and leaned back into him, “Out like a light.”

Carter wrapped his arms around you, dropping his head so his chin rested on your shoulder. His hair tickled your cheek, causing you to smile. Across from you, both Ethan and Travis were watching you with the same sort of fond smile. 

Kora looked between the two other men, “Just say it, they’re cute,” She huffed, “Nolan, you wanna play me?”

“I’d like to see what you’re made of,” Nolan replied, holding up an extra controller. 

The following night, you, Kora, and Ethan file into the arena, ready for the next game in the series. Carter was starting in net tonight, and Travis literally wouldn’t stop bouncing all day long. You made a joke that someone needed to take out his batteries. Kora held onto Ethan, smiling as random Flyers fans high fived each other for wearing jerseys. 

“Now this is a good way to celebrate another year of hell being over,” Kora joked, “We’re all drinking tonight, right?”

“You two can have all you’d like,” E told us, “I’ll be semi sober so I can take care of both of you.”

Kora looked up at him in a way that you could only describe as love. It was weird, seeing your best friend and your brother like that. Yet, it made you happy at the same time. You liked the idea of them being happy together, come what may.

“We should get to our seats,” You told them, “Drinks later.”

“I’m going to be the only one getting drunk tonight, aren’t I?” Kora questioned. 

Both you and Ethan laughed, knowing you weren’t going to have more than a drink, maybe two. The only time you ever really got drunk was with Kora, but you wanted to be sober for this. You wanted to watch every second as the game unfolded. You wanted to be able to run to Carter and hold him after the game was over, because who knew how many more times you could do that.

Kora leaned over to you once you were all in your seats, “You have that look again, are you okay?”

You forced a smile and tried to push away the sudden sickening feeling you had in your stomach, “yeah, I’m fine.”

But you couldn’t shake the sudden feeling that you shouldn’t have come tonight. That you should’ve watched from Carter’s apartment. But you hadn’t missed a home game almost all season, and you certainly weren’t going to miss a playoff game. 

Yet, every ounce of you was screaming to run, to get away while you still could. But you knew you were safe, Zachary wouldn’t dare come near you while Ethan was here. He wouldn’t really do anything in the arena, where all of the security knew you by now. You were safe here. 

You tugged on the sleeves of your jersey, pulling them down so they covered your hands. You couldn’t help the little shiver that went through you. So instead, you pulled out your phone and looked at the last text Carter sent you, vowing to win since everyone was here. Your eyes seemed to stay glued to the part where he said he loved you and he loved knowing that you were wearing his jersey. 

Although he laughed about it at first, somehow knowing that the jersey on your back was actually his old one, and not just one you got from the team store, made him feel different. Like you were really shouting to everyone that you were his, and he was yours. He often chirped some of the other guys about their relationships, but that all stopped when he realized how much he loved you. 

Because the truth of it was, Carter could see a whole life with you. An entire future that was so bright and full of love and happiness. He hadn’t told you that yet, mainly because he didn’t want to scare you. But he wanted everything with you. He wanted a ring on your finger, you walking down an aisle all in white, maybe a couple of kids in a house outside the city one day. But for now...for now he was just happy knowing you had on his jersey while you watched him play.

You hold tightly onto Kora’s hand as the clock ticks down. Carter was so close to a shutout. How often could you say that your boyfriend got a shutout during the Stanley Cup playoffs? You were so sure that your heart would beat right out of your chest. Even E seemed to literally be on the edge of his seat. 

Sure they were still a few games off from winning the series, but this would really tip the scales in their favor. For the first time you actually let yourself think about it. About what it would mean for Travis, Nolan, and for Carter. You could almost picture them hoisting the cup. Could almost see yourself on the ice with everyone, laughing as Travis attacked you. You could almost see all of it. You could almost see all of the things you hadn’t allowed yourself to want. 

The arena erupted, fans were yelling so loudly you swore your ears were going to be rining for days. You’d even lost your own voice sometime during the second period. You spent the whole game engaging with everyone in the arena. You hadn’t experienced energy like that in years. You were almost willing to bet that you felt the same level of adrenaline as the team did. Honestly, you’d probably be just as amped up as Carter when you got home. 

“He did it,” Ethan marveled over the roar of the arena, “He fucking did it.”

Kora nearly jumped on your shoulders, “My best friend is dating a goal god!”

You were in a state of shock right up until the time you saw Carter after the game. Then it was like everything kicked into high gear and you ran to him, you even jumped so he had to catch you. A couple other members of the team whistled jokingly as you kissed him. 

“You did so good.” 

Maybe it was the bit of alcohol in your system, or the adrenaline from the game. But you seemed to forget every little problem you had. You forgot about Zachary, and the impossible decision that lurked there. Or the fact that you still had to pick who you were going to spend the summer with, if anyone. You forgot about all of it. All you wanted to do was be with all of them.

“Damn you look good tonight,” Carter joked, tugging on his jersey. 

“We should go out. All of us,” You told Carter excitedly, “Like go get drinks or something.”

“You want to go out?” Carter asked, surprised that you were the one to even bring it up. 

“I feel like dancing and having fun. Finals are over, you just fucking owned the net. C’mon, please?”

“Hartsy take the girl out,” Kevin Hayes chirped.

Carter smiled and kissed you again, “Well, let’s go out then.”

So that's what you did. All of you filed into some club that Travis knew about. You weren’t really dressed for it, although you did have a nice top on under the jersey, but you didn’t care. Not as the music seemed to fill your soul as you held onto Carter. He laughed and danced with you, both of you seeming to forget everything.

Ethan watched as you let go. He and Travis just looked at each other and smiled. Neither of them had seen this side of you since you were in high school, before Zachary broke so much of you. Ethan felt himself relax the more you seemed to smile and come alive. Kora soon pulled Ethan and Travis both onto the dance floor, insisting that all of you be together. 

Hours later, so late in fact that you were pretty sure it was morning, you and Carter were slowly making your way towards his building. Ethan, Kora, and Travis all split off a while ago so they could go back to Travis’ place. You were still so giddy, happily talking off Carter’s ear. 

He felt a sort of warmth in his chest. This was the person Trvais and Nolan talked about. He was finally able to see the you that Travis told him about for years, the you that was free. He wished he could’ve met her sooner. 

“I want to go back with you,” You told him suddenly. 

“Huh?” he wasn’t entirely sure how you’d gone from talking about wanting a breakfast beagle from the diner off campus, that certainly wasn’t open this time of the morning, to wanting to go somewhere else with him. His brain was hazy, both from the alcohol and everything else that happened. 

“To Canada, if the offer still stands?” 

You stopped walking and turned to face him. When you really stopped to think about it earlier in the night you realized that there wasn’t any other place you wanted to be. You’d be safe with him in Canada, you would finally be able to fully love him there. Nothing would stand in your way. It would just be you and Carter. Everything would be okay. 

“God I love you,” He whispered before leaning down to kiss you, “Of course the offer still stands.”

“Good,” You pulled at his neck so he would kiss you again. 

You really didn’t care that you were in the middle of a dark sidewalk in the middle of the night. You couldn’t even pay attention to the cold that was slowly working its way into your bones. Because all you could think about was his lips on yours, and the summer that now awaited you. All you wanted was that. You just wanted him. 

“Now Doll, this isn’t part of the game,” You couldn’t pull away from Carter fast enough to find the source of the voice. But you already knew. You wanted to warn Carter to run, to get away. But there was a loud sound that made your ears ring again, but in a different way from the arena. And then...there was just nothing.

#Carter hart #carter hart imagine #Carter hart imagines #Carter hart fanfic #Carter hart fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction #Philly flyers imagine #Philly flyers imagines #flyers imagines #flyers imagine #nicolewritesthings

[kaitycole]

losing what he never had

Summary: Bokuto recounts the worst day of his life that all started with a phone call.

Pairing: Bokuto x fem!reader

Word Count: 2822

Warnings: Angst. Pure fucking angst. Character death. Slight mention of pregnancy loss.  

A/N: Thanks to @cosmicmermaid25​ for this prompt. She said “make me cry” I hope this lives up to it. 

“I was supposed to be there, at home with you, but a match got rescheduled and I had to be in Tokyo. I was supposed to be there, driving with you to your doctor’s appointment because you wanted me with you, but instead I wasn’t and you were all alone.”

*                      * Present Day

Bokuto isn’t sure what he’s supposed to feel, but he does know that he feels empty and maybe a little lost. That feeling you get when you turn around in circles, first noticing the person you’re with isn’t there anymore. That feeling right before the panic sets in that you’re alone. Or maybe it’s more like when a strong wind blows in your face and you can’t catch breath, the struggle of quickly trying to block the overwhelming emotions that flood you as you try to breathe.

It’s been two months since he got the call, a phone call that shattered his entire world, that brought him down to his knees and nothing in his life has been the same. Like looking through a shattered mirror, hoping to see a complete image.

It had been on the calendar for weeks, the day that Y/N had her doctor’s appointment and she didn’t really like driving to far places alone, so of course being the doting boyfriend, Bokuto offered to drive. He didn’t mind, in fact he rather enjoyed driving and a part of him really enjoyed Y/N depending on him. She didn’t need to, she could hold her own, but he loved to feel needed and was confident that his partner knew that too.

But there was a storm, a match between MSBY and Schweiden Adlers had to be reschedule, but it became an away game and as fate would have it, it was scheduled for the same day as the appointment. Bokuto apologized profusely to his partner, swearing if he could sit out then he would, but she brushed off his worries, saying she understood, it wasn’t a big deal. Sometimes having such an understanding partner could hurt.

*                      * Two months ago – 7:45 AM

*alarm noises*

Bokuto picks up his phone, clicking end on the alarm, but truth be told, he had been up for a while. It’s weighing down on him that he can’t be there for his girlfriend, knowing she is getting ready to do something that she isn’t comfortable doing to begin with.

“Ko?” Her voice still sounds full of sleep, even though he knows by now she’s already had her morning tea and shower.

“’Morning babe. I just wanted to call before you left.” He steps out of the hotel room, out into the hallway. There’s a deeper meaning weighing his words, worry for her trip, but he’s hoping she doesn’t take it as doubt.

“You have perfect timing.” He hears the door locking in the background, “I was just walking out of the apartment.”

“I wish I could’ve been there to take you. Or that you’d have agreed to let Akaashi go with you.” He knows she can do it, but it doesn’t alleviate any guilt he has knowing that she didn’t really want to go alone.

“You can’t help a scheduling change and I’ll be okay, it’s not too far, ya know?” There’s a bit of hesitation in her voice and it kills Bokuto to know there’s nothing he can do. He tried to get her to reschedule but she said it had taken her a while to just get this one, she didn’t know how long it’d take to get another.

He sits on the ground next to his hotel room’s door, leaning back against the wall. “I know, but I still like feeling needed.” “Ko,” there’s a smile in her tone, “I’ll always need you. I gotta go, good luck at your game!”

“I love you. Be safe.”

“Love too you Ko!”

He stares at his phone, the screen now black and he can’t help but feel this pit in his stomach, like something’s eating at him. He pushes himself off the ground, trying to shake off the feeling, chalking it up to pre-game jitters.

*                      * 10:30 AM

It’s nearing the end of the first set of the match against the Adler that Bokuto’s focus seems to be withering. Hinata starts trying to pick up the slack on Bo’s end and Atsumu gets pissed off enough to stop setting to him altogether, which helps but the Adlers are quick to use that as a weak spot for MSBY. After the first set, Adlers in the lead, Coach Foster makes the decision to bench Bo.

Bokuto flops down on the bench, accepting a water bottle from the team’s manager. He hates this feeling, especially when he proudly told Akaashi and Atsumu that he wasn’t the moody guy that he was back in high school, and here he was letting whatever this feeling is affect his gameplay.

“Just cool down and clear your head.” Coach Foster says, not taking his eyes off the court.

Bokuto leans forward, his head between his knees as he steadies his breathing, letting go of everything that feels like it’s weighing him down. He knows that she’s fine, she promised him that she would be and he lets the comfort of her voice clear his mind before he makes eye contact with his coach, telling him that he’s ready now.

*                      * 1:55 PM

She should be home by now, right?

Bokuto looks down at his phone again, her voicemail echoing from the other end. Once Bokuto’s mind was clear, the Black Jackal dominated the court and took the win, but even with the various cheers filling the locker room, Bo found himself feeling miles away from the celebration.

He clicks on her thread once more, the last text having been from a few days ago about dinner, no “got here safely” text from today and that makes his stomach sink. He tries calling again, trying to rationalize that maybe it hadn’t gone through the first time, locker rooms had shaky cell reception, right? But he gets her voicemail once again, glances up at the clock, noting that maybe she was eating lunch or taking a nap, she’d been napping a lot more lately.

“I’m sure she’s fine, Bo!” Hinata says, patting his teammate on the back.

“C’mon, let’s go get something to eat!” Atsumu yells and a few other teammates quickly agree.

Bo lets out a sigh, shaking the thoughts from his head, “yeah, okay.”

*                      * 2:30 PM

Bokuto walks out of the hotel, most of the team already waiting out front, he doesn’t want to get food, he’d rather head back home, but the team is scheduled for a meet and greet tonight. Meaning chances of him leaving before tomorrow morning are slim. He looks down at his phone, an unknown number is calling, but before he can ignore it, the almost paralyzing feeling that weighed him down on the court grips around him.

“Hello?” His voice is shaking, Hinata and Atsumu walk over to him, both lost in whatever they were talking about to notice the shift in Bokuto’s demeanor.

“I’m calling for a Bokuto-san. Is this them?” “Yeah, I’m Boku—” He can’t finish his sentence, his mind racing with various thoughts, negative thoughts dry his mouth, causing a lump in a throat, like his body already knows what he’s about to hear. Hinata looks between him and Atsumu, clearly concerned for his teammate and friend, while Atsumu leans into the other side of the phone, hoping to overhear.

“You’re listed as an emergency contact for a L/N F/N.” There’s a pause that last about five seconds too long for Bokuto’s worried mind.

He doesn’t really hear anything after that, just snippets of the unfamiliar voice on the other side.

There was an accident…

…emergency surgery.

How soon…

…be here?

Atsumu catches Bokuto’s phone as his hand just lets it go, his mind still racing as the color drains from his face. He turns, running back into the hotel, using the stairs to get to his room because his anxious mind couldn’t take the wait for an elevator. Hinata and Atsumu run after him, but all he can hear is the thumping of his heart in his ears, his vision getting blurry from either tears or shock, he’s not too sure.

He fumbles with the keycard to get into the room, all but slamming it against the sensor before flinging the door open. He’s panicked, looking around the room trying to figure out what he needs right now, what should he take, he was never good at this thing, Y/N is always the one who packs things for him.

By the time Hinata and Atsumu have caught up to him, he’s mumbling to himself, Sakusa stepping out of the room next door to see what all the noise is from.

“I’ll fly. I’ll fly back to Osaka.” Bokuto says, looking for his passport, because in his mind airport equals passport.

“That’d take too long Bokuto.” Sakusa slowly steps into the room, trying to reason with him, “by the time you got a flight you could’ve already been back.”

Bokuto looks back towards the door, towards three of his teammates and the expression on his face could break their hearts. His bottom lip is poked out in a worried pout, his hair drooping down, almost like it’s deflated. None of them know what to do or to say, this is Akaashi’s or Y/N’s territory, not theirs.

“The train, Bo. That’s the fastest to get to her.”

He starts nodding, patting his pockets to make sure he has his wallet and quickly grabs a hoodie, as he starts making his way out of the room, his face void of any expression or emotion.

Keys.

Check.

Wallet.

Check.

Phone.

Check.

He pauses, still panicked, “I don’t have my passport. Where is it? I need it!”

Atsumu wants to grab and push Bokuto out of the room, to yell that he doesn’t need a passport to get on the train, but Hinata rushing into the room, swiping it from the inside pocket that lined his duffle bag. It’s where Y/N had told Bo to keep it so he wouldn’t worry about losing it or walking out of the hotel without it and where he’s kept it ever since.

“Here you go.” Hinata hands it to the wing spiker, noting that Bokuto’s eyes look dead, there’s no light in them like usual. “C’mon, let’s get to the train station.”

*                      * 6 PM

Bokuto bolts into the hospital, frantically looking around the sterile white building, breathlessly. He walks up to the first person that he sees in a white coat, not really caring how he looks to anyone.

“I…got a call…”

“Patient name?”

He tells the doctor her name, watching the woman’s face drop just slightly before becoming stoic again. “Let’s go somewhere and talk.”

“After I see her…” His words are desperate, like he’s hanging on from the edge, getting ready to fall at any moment. The pain in his eyes clearly evident to the woman as she tries to figure out what to do, how to handle the situation. “Please.”

“We tried….there wasn’t…I’m sorry…”

He shakes his head, as if the motion alone would change what he’s about to hear, what he’s feared since he got the call. His fingers run through his hair, tugging on it slight to ground him because it feels unreal, like he’s watching this unfold from outside his own body.

“…your losses.”

Bokuto’s attention instantly refocuses, eyes lined with tears that are seconds from falling, such a pathetic expression in his eyes. “What?”

“I just assumed you knew.” The doctor shifts awkwardly on her feet, “it seems she was 11 weeks pregnant.”

*                      * 7:12 PM

“Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto’s sitting next to the hospital bed where Y/N is, holding her hand, half asleep, the mix of crying and the adrenaline wearing off has drained him. He’s been there practically since he arrived, refusing to leave her, refusing to accept that she’s anything but sleeping.

“Bokuto-san.”

He looks up, eyes red and puffy, his nose stuffy as he breathes through it, turning slightly to see the owner of the voice, never letting go of her hand. Though it doesn’t feel like her hand, it’s cold which isn’t unlike her, she’s always been warm. She brought a warmth to Bokuto’s life and he’s not sure he’s ready to let it go, he’s not sure that he can let go.

Akaashi walks in the room, placing a hand on Bo’s right shoulder, “Bokuto-san, let’s get you home.”

“I can’t…leave her…here.” He starts choking on the sobs that rip through his throat, “she won’t know where she is.”

“I know, but it’s getting late.”

“We can go…after she wakes up, okay? Yeah, yeah,” his voice raises a little bit, like he’s satisfied with the idea he’s come up with, “that way…I can let her…know I’ll be back.”

Akaashi takes a deep breath, he thought he’d seen every side of Bokuto, that he knew all of his weaknesses and strengths, that he was the one of the few people that could ground Bokuto, but he’s out of his element here. How do you tell your best friend the love of his life isn’t going to wake up?

“Boku—” “Aka—Keiji,” He steadies his breath, a small sob cracks his voice, “I know…she’s gone, but once I leave we won’t be a family of three, it’ll just…it’ll just be me.”

Akaashi feels his own tears starting to form, trying to blink them away, he has to be strong for his best friend. He squeezes his hand on Bokuto’s shoulder when he feels him start to tremble, to shake underneath him, cries filling the room. He wants to tell Bokuto that it’s time to leave, that they really need to be going, but how do you take someone away from something that wasn’t theirs yet?

*                      * Present Day

Bokuto’s never really believed in a higher power, he doesn’t give much thought to horoscopes or pay any attention when people swear they had “feelings” about something, but looking back on that day, something didn’t sit right in his stomach after their call ended. And that’s something that has plagued his thoughts ever since.

If only he had called her back, begged for her to just miss the appointment, maybe…maybe she wouldn’t have…

He shakes his head, tears trailing his cheeks, he knows it won’t do him any good to think that way, but how could he not? Looking back, he knows something was trying to tell him to stop her, but he didn’t, he just let her go and this was the outcome of his choice.

“Sorry I didn’t come for a few days, we had another away game, but Akaashi told me that he came a few times to keep you company.” He wipes the tears, smearing this across his face. “I’ve gotten better at packing my bags now, though Sakusa still brings extra toiletries for me.”

He tilts his head to the side, realizing that sometimes if he stopped thinking, it still felt like she was there, so much of her still part of his daily interactions, bits of her still sprinkled through his decisions.

Laundry’s still done on Wednesdays because she liked doing it in the middle of the week.

Take-out for dinner on Saturdays because that was always their at-home date night.

Passport can still be found in the lining pocket of his duffle bag when he’s traveling.

Her favorite tea brand is still in the cabinets because Bokuto still brews it just so the house smells like her.

“I was picked to play on the Japan National Team in the Olympics this year, Y/N. You always said I could do it.” He fumbles in his pocket, grabbing the small item that’s been weighing down on him. “I never told you, but I had big plans for if I made it to the Olympics.”

Bokuto places a small black velvet box on top of the tombstone, his fingers dragging across the smooth surface, letting his hand fall when it reaches the end. He whispers that he loves her one more time before he heads back to the parking lot, Kuroo was waiting there. Even without her around, he was never alone, not really, one of his friends was always finding an excuse to stay with him which he didn’t mind.

It hurts, hurts to try to figure out a life without her, knowing that if things had been different they’d be getting ready for a baby. Part of him wants to fall apart acknowledging that, knowing that in some alternate universe she’s his wife and mother of his child, that he’s a dad, but he can’t because it feels wrong to mourn over something that was never his to begin with.

#haikyuu!! #hq bokuto #bokuto kotaro #hq bokuto x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto x female reader #bokuto angst #hq angst #no fluff here #pure angst #tw angst #tw character death #tw loss of a loved one #tw grief #tw mourning #tw loss of pregnancy #reader death #tw reader death #bokuto kōtarō x reader

[teenwolffan-with-nolife]

New Life Pt.7

Word Count: 2,165

Characters: Derek Hale, Laura Hale, Zach Salvatore, Damon Salvatore, Stefan Salvatore, Grayson Gilbert (brief), OC Characters, Reader

Pairings: Eventual Derek Hale x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, near-death, possible slight cliffhanger

A/N: jesus fuck im letting my life go to hell when im not writing im watching shameless i’ve lost all of my friends this isn’t a cry for help :)

A/N 2: I think i’m gonna open requests again i need more inspo

Masterlist    Series Masterlist

“What the hell are you doing here?” you aimed your gun at him, moving backward.

“Put that down, (Y/N). Do you even know how to use it?” Jay scoffed, walking around you while you continued pointing your gun at him.

“Why are you here?” you asked again.

“A lot of reasons. You already look like you’re handling a lot, so I think it’s best for both of us if I leave for a little? Put this little plan on pause?” 

You could feel your heart rate quickening as he continued to walk to you, before stopping in front of you.

“I'm gonna kill you,” you spat.

“Get your revenge on me, but make sure it’s a fair battle. As you can clearly see, I’m unarmed.”

“You have powers. You’re not human.”

“Then I won’t use them. Do you want to have this fight with me when one of your friends is on the brink of death?”

Derek came back to your mind as you lowered your gun.

“That’s what I thought. Here,” he tossed you your phone as you tensed up.

“You-”

“Yeah, I don’t need it anymore. I’ll see you in a bit,” he winked at you before walking away.

Your entire body was shaking as you stood outside the Salvatore House, breathing in shaky breaths before you shook your head, entering the house.

Be calm

“Where’s Derek?” you asked.

“In his room,” Stefan replied.

Zach and him were walking around, while you saw Zach carrying weapons.

You sighed, making your way up the stairs to Derek’s room. Laura sat with him, holding his hand while he laid unconscious on the bed. He had an EKG next to him. You could see the burns on his body as you tensed, slowly walking to Laura. She wiped her tears, before looking up at you.

“Damon did…” her voice broke as she stopped herself.

You wrapped your arms around her tightly, while she hugged you back.

“Why isn't he healing?” you asked softly.

“Fire, Silver, and Wolfsbane are our weaknesses. If he wakes up, he can heal. But I don’t know if he’s gonna wake up.”

“We need to take him to the hospital,” you replied.

“No, they’re going to have questions about it, and then if he wakes up and heals-”

“I know a doctor that works at the hospital. He knows about the supernatural, he and his wife are members of the supernatural council. Derek’s innocent, they won’t hurt him,” Laura’s face was filled with worry.

“We can’t do much here. You can only heal him so much without losing your alpha status,” she nodded her head, agreeing before walking to Zach and Stefan.

Tears rushed to your eyes in an instant as you looked down at Derek’s body, stroking his cheek. There was a look of discomfort on his face.

“You need to wake up, you idiot,” you held back your cries as you pressed a small kiss to his forehead.

“Please wake up.”

---

“Thank you for helping us, Doctor Grayson,” he smiled, before walking away from you.

“You’re quiet,” Zach stood next to you as you shook your head.

“Have you heard anything from Stefan?” you asked.

Zach shook his head, before putting his hand on your shoulder.

“What's going on?” he frowned.

You could feel your heart rate increasing as sniffled softly.

“Can we talk about this later?” 

His face softened as he nodded.

“I’m gonna go check on Derek.” you nodded before he walked away.

You heard your phone ringing, as you frowned.

“Stefan, what is it?”

“I need you back here. For whatever reason, Damon’s going after you to get back at me and Zach. Derek’s already hurt, he’s gonna get you too,” you could hear the pain in his voice as you softened.

“What’s the problem then?” you asked.

“You need to be under lockdown. It’s too risky for you to be at the hospital right now.”

“I can’t just leave. Derek’s…”

“We can’t do anything about him right now. The best you can do is stay hidden.”

You felt your eyes water slightly. You were useless, there was nothing you could do to help anyone. You were weak, the only thing you could do was hide.

“(Y/N), please come back,” Stefan begged.

“Okay,” your voice was barely above a whisper.

You ended the call, before walking to Zach. Your chest was aching, you felt like your heart was about to jump out of your body.

“Stefan wants me to come home. He thinks it’ll be safer,” you said softly.

Zach and Laura nodded, before you gave them a quick hug.

You pressed a small kiss to Derek's head, before walking away.

“Excuse me,” you jumped, seeing Damon behind you.

“Hey,” you grabbed your gun, aiming it at him.

“If you shoot me, your little friend is gonna die. You won’t be able to save him,” Damon taunted.

“What do you mean?” you frowned slightly.

“The one who’s out of your league. He’s more on the annoying side. Come with me and I’ll let him go, deal?” you quickly nodded, tossing your gun aside before taking off with Damon.

---

“Why are you doing this?” the two of you stood on top of a building, while he held onto your arm tightly.

“It isn't fair that I had to suffer because of Stefan and now I’m the bad guy,” Damon shrugged.

“Isn’t fair? You set Derek on fire,” you yelled.

“Who’s fault is it for having a box of lighters in the basement? You should've seen the look on his face. He was terrified,” you heard Damon laughing as you dug your nails into your palm.

“Stefan's the villain in your story, but to everyone else, he’s the hero. He’s done more good than you’ll ever do. Deep down you’re jealous of him. Stefan has people in his life who care about him and you have no one!” Damon put his hand around your neck, lifting you off the floor.

You took it to your advantage, kicking his stomach as he doubled over, stumbling back a few steps.

He ran back to you, grabbing your arm before you twisted his arm backward, pulling it until you heard the noise of something snapping. He yelled out in pain before he pulled you, pushing you to the floor.

“You’re really gonna die now,” you were slightly out of breath before pushing yourself up.

Damon used his speed, pushing you down once again before coming on top of you. You tried to push him off before he held you down with his other arm. It must have healed already. You felt him press down on your chest, instantly feeling burning. You gasped for air, feeling immense pain. His hand entered your chest slowly as you cried out in pain, trying to push him away.

“Stefan got everything. He left me,” you could see Damon's eyes water as your face softened.

He wasn't the bad guy, he was jealous of Stefan and he was lonely.

“If you kill me then you lose Stefan forever. Is that what you really want?” your voice was strained as he pressed into your chest. You could feel your blood dripping down his fingers.

“Shut up,” you could see his eyes darken, veins surrounding them. 

“Stefan will hate you. Forever. That’s not what you want,” you said.

He put his hand around your throat, pulling you up as you struggled for your breath. You felt a sharp pain in your leg, feeling it hit the cement with intense pressure.

He pushed you down, your back hitting the edge of the roof as your head dangled from it.

“You don’t know anything. You stupid, useless kid. If Stefan cared about you, he would be here,” Damon spat.

“If you believe that then kill me,” he continued to press on your throat, your vision fading in and out as you felt the air leaving your body.

He let go of your throat, while you took a big breath in, before he pushed you down, feeling your head hit the ground as you fell unconscious.

---

You blinked your eyes, feeling your head aching as you winced, rubbing it. You looked at your hands, seeing the blood from your head as you sighed, standing up slowly, using the ledge of the building for support.

Damon was nowhere to be found, you knew your words meant something to him. He was gone. You looked at your phone screen, seeing messages and calls from Stefan, Zach, and Laura.

You called Zach, as he picked up on the first ring.

“Where are you? Are you okay? We've been trying to call you for so long!” you heard Zach yell.

“Is that (Y/N)?” you heard Stefan’s voice in the background.

“I’m okay. Damon's gone,” you said.

“What do you mean gone? What happened?” Zach asked.

“I’ll tell you in a bit. I’m coming home now,” you started.

“We’re at the hospital. Derek woke up,” you let out a shaky breath, feeling relief in your chest.

“God. Okay, I’m on my way. Don’t leave,” you hung up the phone, feeling your leg aching as you tried to walk.

Son of a bitch

You limped slowly, making your way down the stairs of the building.

---

You entered the waiting room, walking to the desk before hearing Stefan’s voice. Zach and Stefan ran to you, all worried as they examined your wounds. They could see the blood on your shirt, your wound dripping slightly.

“What the hell happened? You’re limping,” Zach pointed out.

“It’s okay. It doesn't hurt that much,” you shook your head.

“God, I’m so sorry,” Stefan said softly, wrapping his arms around you.

“It’s not your fault,” you replied.

“What are these marks?” Zach examined the wounds on your neck from Damon strangling you.

“I’ll tell you later. You said Derek’s awake, right?” you asked.

Stefan nodded, before putting his hand on your shoulder.

“Take some of my blood,” he said.

“Not right now,” you said.

“(Y/N)-”

“I want to see Derek,” you stopped him.

Zach sighed, before nodding his head.

“We need to talk about a lot of things when we get home, okay?” you nodded, before Stefan held your arm, walking you to the room.

“Stefan, what did you do to Damon?” you asked softly.

You saw his face drop before he looked down.

“When I turned into a vampire, I forced him to feed. I didn’t want to be alone.”

“Well, he’s alone right now. That’s why he tried to kill me. He misses you, whether he wants to admit it or not.”

He frowned, before looking down at you.

“Since when are you so sentimental?”

Since my ex is back in town probably to murder me

“Shut up,” you pushed him slightly, before groaning as he pulled on your arm.

“Well, I’ll leave you two alone. Laura’s getting Derek something to eat, she’ll be back in a bit,” you nodded, entering Derek’s room.

He was awake, a wide grin on his face.

“Hi,” he said.

You scoffed, shaking your head.

“You look like such a dork,” you said.

“And you look worse than me. And I’m the one in the hospital bed,” you walked over to him, seeing he was healed up.

“Why are you still in bed if you’re healed?” you asked.

“Well, Doctor Grayson said that even though I’m healed, he wanted me to spend the night so no one else gets suspicious. How do they all know about the supernatural?” 

“Well, Mystic Falls was basically built from witches and vampires. If there was a vampire in town, then they’d be on edge. But, a family from the council, the Lockwoods, are werewolves. They think when and if a war comes, wolves will side with them against vampires.”

“That’s bullshit,” Derek scoffed.

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” you laughed.

You stroked Derek’s cheek, while he closed his eyes, leaning into your hand.

“I’m glad you’re not dead,” you said softly.

“Yeah, right back at you,” he smiled softly.

You punched his arm, while he groaned.

“What the hell?” he exclaimed.

“Now that Damon’s gone… what the hell are you thinking going out with Emily? Dean and her were together, Dean is like your only friend here!” you hissed.

“He said he was cool with it! Emily asked me out, okay?!”

“That’s messed up, dude,” you shook your head.

“Oh, shut up,” he rolled his eyes.

You felt yourself at peace, keeping your mind on your friends. 

“Well, I’m not going home until you are, so I’m crashing on the chair,” you motioned to the chair next to his bed.

“Going to sleep? You’re boring,” Derek teased.

“Yeah, whatever. See you in the morning, loser,” you laid back in the chair, kicking your feet up to his bed as he scoffed, before laying back on the bed:

“See you in the morning, (Y/N/N),” you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath before letting yourself fall asleep.

Taglist: @bellabadacadabra​ @teen-wolf-obsessed4life​ @eunoia-kth​ @angeltzdar @shortimaginewriter​ @linkpk88​

#teen wolf #teen wolf text #teen wolf fic #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf angst #teen wolf fics #Derek #derek hale #derek hale text #Derek Hale Angst #derek hale imagine #derek hale fluff #derek hale x reader #derek hale x platonic!reader #laura hale #laura hale imagine #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the vampire diaries imagines #the vampire diaries imagine #TVD #tvd family #tvd fandom #tvd fanfic #tvd fic #tvd imagine #stefan salvatore imagine #stefan salvatore #damon salvatore #damon salvatore imagine

[heyitsmerose]

Ateez Reaction to their s/o calling them when they’re in danger (hyung line)

TW: Sensitive content and mentions of abuse

Word Count: 2.5k

Mature Language*

Hongjoong: (peeping tom)

You and Hongjoong have been dating for a while now, with his busy schedule he tries to make as much time for you as possible, however you’re left home alone for majority of the day, especially during comeback time. 

Today, your boyfriend and the rest of Ateez were recording their new song at were all at the KQ building, a good 30 minutes away from your apartment. He wouldn’t be back for another 2-3 hours so you decided to take a shower and treat yourself.

Halfway through your shower, you heard noises. Thinking it was just your brain being paranoid about being home alone you decided to leave it and continue showering. Another 5 minutes later you hear shuffling outside and the noise of clicking. This time, being a little more cautious you decided to stop the shower to better hear the noise. After a few seconds you heard the noise again and decided to go outside into your shared bedroom. 

The second you did, you briefly caught a glimpse of someone standing outside your window with a camera, through the mirror in your room. Acting as if you hadn’t seen anything, you took your phone into the bathroom and locked it, trying to act as cool as you could. The second the door closed behind you, you dialed hongjoong. 

[“Hongjoong, how much longer”] you whisper yelled voice cracking at the end

[“Woah, hey Y/n, what’s up?] you were greeted by your boyfriend’s, bandmate, Wooyoung’s voice

[Can you give the phone to Hongjoong please]

[Y/n, he’s recording right now, is everything alright]

[Please just give him the phone]

[Alright I’m putting it on speaker] Wooyoung said and you heard some shuffling in the background

[Hey hun, whats wrong, is everything alright] you were greeted by your boyfriend’s sweet voice.

[Hongjoong, I’m stuck in the bathroom with nothing but a towel and there’s someone outside our window taking pictures of me!] You whisper yelled, voice cracking at the end of you sentence, not because you were sad, but because you were scared and frustrated of the situation you were in. 

You heard a few gasps from the rest of the members and a “what the fuck?”, presumably from Seonghwa.

[Okay, babe, stay where you are, we’ll come get you] You heard Hongjoong say, after which he hung up.

You tied up your hair and turned on the shower again to cover any noise you were making. Soon you heard shuffling outside and footsteps coming closer to the bathroom wall. 

After a while the footsteps stopped and you heard banging on the bathroom wall from the outside of the house.

“Come out, honey, unless you want these pictures to be spread all over the internet” You heard a sinister voice call out from outside.

At this point you were done, you hid your face in your knees and sobbed, your life would be ruined if those photos got out.

“Leave me alone!” you yelled back

Soon you heard more shuffling outside and grunting. You then heard the familiar voice of one of your boyfriend’s bandmates, Mingi.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, creep!? You heard him yell.

Feeling a little more relieved you simply sat and waited until either the police or someone came to get you. In a few minutes, you heard light knocking on the door and you violently flinched. Slowly and carefully opening the door, you were engulfed by the sweet smell and warm embrace of your boyfriend Hongjoong, not caring whether he got wet. Tears of relief started pouring out your eyes and you collapsed into him.

“Hey, you’re okay now” He whispered to you, warm breath against your face. “I won’t ever let something like that happen ever again” you heard him whisper into your hair. 

Seonghwa: (creep at night)

You and Seonghwa were a funny couple, showing love to eachother with your constant teasing and nicknames. Recently, he pranked you by banging on the window and knocking on the door when you were home alone. It was safe to say, you were quite spooked. You forgave him quickly and it was forgotten. Today, you had gone out to get some ramen from the supermarket and were on your way back home. It was quite late at night, and Seonghwa was at home sleeping. You wanted to surprise him with some ramen, and so here you were. It started off quite normally, you were used to going out late at night, loving the breeze and the silent streets. 

About halfway home, you saw a hooded man walking across the street from you. It didn’t seem to out of the ordinary, except the fact that he was wearing all black and had a black mask and hat on. You started walking a little faster just to be safe. You noticed that the man started walking a little faster too, and so you decided to start jogging lightly, wanting to get home as soon as possible. The man, this time, crossed the street and was right behind you. Fearing for your life you decided to full on run as fast as you could. The man started chasing after you, and you had no option but to try and take abnormal turns while running to try to lose him. You soon ran around a corner into an alley and took the opportunity to call Seonghwa.

[Seonghwa!] You practically yelled, once he picked the phone up after a few rings

[Y/N, where on earth are you, it’s like 9pm, what are you doing] You heard his husky voice, suggesting he just got up

[Babe, I don’t know where I am but this dude is chasing after me and he keeps grunting and growling at me, I don’t know what to do, please help!]

[Babe, What?!] he yelled through the phone

[Send me your location and I’ll come pick you up]

[What if he has a knife, you cant come here] you tried reasoning

[I don’t care! now send me your location and don’t hang up!]

You were relieved that he was coming to get you, but were still scared that the man could find you any second. Keeping the phone next to you, decided to peek out the corner, to check if he was still there. Bad idea, the man saw your face and instantly ran to your direction. You couldn’t run anywhere as there was a dead end and just backed up against the wall. 

“You thought you could run from me?” The man sneered at you. 

“Please leave me alone” You tried to muster up the courage, only for your eyes to betray you with tears spilling out of them.

“No need to be scared” He creepily grinned at you and grabbed your wrist. You tried pulling away, but to no avail. At this point you were a crying mess. 

“Please let me go” You sobbed, as he pinned you against the wall nearing your face. Only for the pressure to then completely vanish. You looked up and saw your boyfriend Seonghwa swing at the man all of a sudden. You gasped and held him back. 

“That’s what you get, you sick, son of a bitch!” He yelled at the man, shoving him to the ground.

You spent the evening cuddled up in eachothers’ embrace, with you trying to calm him down

Yunho: (creep at the beach)

You and Yunho were at the beach with the rest of Ateez and their girlfriends. It was a nice way to get away from their busy lifestyles as idols and for everyone to just have a day off. You and San’s girlfriend were quite close and decided to go shell collecting together.

The rest of Ateez’s and Ateez girlfriends were taking pictures, building sand castles and having fun, while Yunho and his Mingi went to go get ice cream for everyone. 

You were laughing and giggling with one another, collecting sea shells, and comparing one another’s like kids, until two tall men interrupted the both of you. 

“Hey ladies! are you here at the beach to have a fun time?” One of them said. Being the bubbly and friendly person San’s girlfriend was, she decided to respond and make conversation, while you were a little more cautious.

“Yeah, we’re just collecting seashells” she smiled back at them

“with our boyfriends” you made sure to emphasise.

“Hey, it’s alright they’re just being nicee” San’s girlfriend whispered to you.

“You never know” you just shrugged back

“Anyways, do you girls know where we can pick up some hot ladies” At this point, San’s girlfriend looked a little uncomfortable too.

“There’s a bar up ahead, hope you find what youre looking for, it was nice talking to you” you promptly cut the conversation short and turned on your heel grabbing your friends arm.

“Hey, no, no wait up, we just want to talk” The other man grabbed your wrist.

“Let go of me” You sternly said, but he didn’t let go and just looked at his friend

“We need to go back now, let me go!” You yelled at him.

The one holding your arm looked at his friend again, and the other one stepped closer to san’s girlfriend taking her chin in his hands.

“Let go of me!” She tried stepping back, but he held her by her shoulder inching closer to her face.

“Let us go!” you yelled at both the men and shoved the one holding your friend to the ground. 

He let go of her, and you told her to call someone for help. She took the opportunity and rang Yunho on the phone, telling him to hurry, as the men wouldn’t leave you alone and you were aggressively yelling at them. You kept struggling in his grip, while the other one tried getting to your friend. After a few minutes of struggling and yelling for help, the grip on your wrist loosened and you heard both the men grunting. Yunho had shoved the man holding you, to the ground and had kicked the other one too. You were still yelling profanities at them, so Yunho turned to you and put his hands on your shoulders, and kissed your forehead. 

“What the hell is wrong with those creeps” You head San yell as he was comforting his girlfriend

“Well, one thing is for sure, they’ll think twice before even trying to approach someone again” Yunho replied while holding you close

Yeosang: (spiked drink)

You and Yeosang were total opposites yet were such a power couple. Yeosang helped the both of you stay grounded, while you were the more outgoing friendly type. 

Hongjoong’s birthday was coming up and everyone decided to go to the nearby bar to just chill and have a nice time. Yeosang initially wanted to go and leave a little early, as he thought the bar would be too overwhelming for him, but after some convincing and your puppy eyes, there was no way he could refuse. You decided to wear matching outfits with him wearing a full sleeved black button up and bleached skinny jeans, while you wore a black dress up till your knees. Yeosang blushed at the idea of matching, but blushed even more when he saw you in your dress.

After a quick makeout session and some giggles here and there, you both decided to leave to meet everyone at the bar. When you reached, you reached peak happiness. The bar had music so loud and there were so many people, you were excited to say the least. You dragged Yeosang into the bar and he bro-hugged Hongjoong while wishing him happy birthday. You on the other hand were already on the dance floor with Yunho and Mingi. You were yelling lyrics at eachother and breakdancing to no end. Yeosang glanced over at you and laughed at your childish antics. 

When a slower song started to play, he knew it was his time to shine. You were already looking around for him in the crowd and when you finally saw him, a wide smile erupted on your face. You grabbed his shoulders and he grabbed your waist, as you fumbled a bit and were panting.

“Are you drunk?” He asked laughing a little. 

“No, not yet, I’m just tired from dancing” You said looking back up at him.

“I think you mean jumping up and down like a mad lady” He laughed at you. You playfully rolled your eyes and smiled at him. You were definitely aware of how much your dancing affected him. 

 “Yeo, I’m going to go get a drink, I’ll be right back” You said a little breathless.

You went to the bar table and simply sat there for a while deciding on your drink, and taking a break from dancing for a bit. After a while, you saw a drink slide in your direction, and looked up to see a stranger slide the cocktail in your direction. You didn’t know her, but being the naïve person you were, you accepted it instantly, thanking her for the drink. You gulped down the drink in one go and as you did, tasted a weird bitter taste in your mouth. A few minutes after chugging the drink, you felt quite dizzy. You have been drunk a few times and knew how it felt, this was definitely a new feeling. You looked back up at the lady, while your eyes were drooping and having a hard time staying open. She moved her stool closer to you, as you just looked back at her uncomfortably. 

As you felt more lightheaded, you decided to go the washroom and try to throw it up. You went into the women’s washroom and couldn’t even stand up. At this point, your legs felt so wobbly you couldn’t even stand up. You dialed your boyfriend amidst the loud music and he picked up on the first ring itself.

[Y/N, where are you, it’s been like 20 minutes, are you okay?] Yeosang said first.

[I don’t know, I feel lightheaded and weak, I think someone drugged my drink] you slurred your words.

[Wait What?! Where are you right now] He yelled over the phone

[In the women’s washroom]

[Okay wait there, I’m coming to get you]

[No, but you can’t-] And before you could respond, he hung up. 

You heard the washroom door opening and you crawled into one of the stalls. Locking it behind you.

“Where are you, beautiful?” You heard a female voice whisper out.

You felt grossed out, this had never happened to you before. Before you could say anything back, you heard the washroom door slam open and someone stomp in. It was Yeosang, he was growling and aggressively asked the lady,

“Have you seen my girlfriend?”

“Oh, her, I don’t know, I’m looking for her too, but hands off she’s mine” The girl replied. At this point he was furious and pushed the girl to the wall, pinning her against it. 

“Shut up!” He growled.

You unlocked the door to your stall and weakly called out to him. He promptly crouched down to your level and picked you up. It was safe to say, you were definitely not going to be let out of his sight for the rest of the night, and probably forever.

#ateez x reader #hongjoong #seongwha #yunho #yeosang #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #san #wooyoung #mingi #jongho #ateez sad #ateez whump #ateez angst #ateez danger #ateez ff #ateez fanfiction