#so I guess making a lot of noise is still acceptable

[pumpking64]

someone in my house is hammering something. it’s incredibly faint but still audible. at the same time people are doing something with the trash outside and it is. so loud.

i feel like i’m going insane over these noises…..

[wormwig]

another night stuck in sound hell

[novaimperia]

★ asking roommate!sukuna if you can get a lift to campus

halfway out of the door, your roommate turns his head and lifts a singular brow at you, the piercing there glinting. keys hanging off his finger, backpack slung on over one shoulder, you’re glad you caught him right before he left – his long legs make him impossible to catch up to. 

“no.”

and then he leaves.

you run after him. “oh, come on. why not?”

not slowing his pace down at all, he lifts up a hand, counting down. “one, i’m not a taxi. two, i don’t want to. three, it’ll become a habit. four, you’re annoying. and five, i don’t want to.”

he’s probably not wrong; since his car is much, much nicer than the public transport available, and quicker too, you’d likely get too used to the comfort and plead to make it a regular thing. although, you’re not really convinced it’d be so bad. “please? there’s a creepy man on the bus and i don’t want to run into him.”

at his car now, unlocking it with his key, he opens his car door, throws his bag inside, climbs in, and slams the door shut in your face. shooting you the most unamused look in the entirety of humanity’s existence, you’re sure, he drawls, “so then walk.”

you watch his car disappear out of the car park.

five minutes later, you’re grumbling about how he’s the worst roommate ever and how, if given the chance, you’d gladly suffocate his irritatingly handsome face under a pillow. just because he’s rich, naturally smart, effortlessly athletic, crazily popular even though he doesn’t want to be, he thinks he can do as he pleases. and yeah, guess he can. but still!

the past couple weeks since you’ve met him, you’ve been good to the bastard. you say hi, you keep clean and tidy, never make too much noise, don’t invite yourself to any of his plans, and you don’t snoop or invite friends over. by his standards, you’re the perfect roommate. whereas he’s been rude – he doesn’t accept any of the baked goods you’ve offered him, doesn’t watch movies with you, or even share dinner at the same time. too often have you caught him walking around in just his boxers or in a towel after he’s showered and he doesn’t apologise, just smirks when you get all flustered. the monster doesn’t even look at you when you cross paths on campus; he just pretends he doesn’t know you.

“hey, sweet’art. you live ‘round here?”

oh, great, there’s a crackhead limping towards you. despite this being the main street, there’s not many cars or people passing by. it’s just you and a creepy old man ogling at your body. whether on the bus or off, it seems you attract weirdos on a spiritual level. fantastic. 

“leave me alone.”

that doesn’t go over well with him. a scowl darkens his raggedy features. his steps hasten. you stagger back. 

beep!

“fuck off, you dirty old geezer.” a familiar car pulls up beside you. sukuna sneers at the man, who backs away a little frightened. huh, it’s quite easy to forget that people tend to find your roommate’s energy off putting. that’s pretty useful. those heated eyes slide over to you. irate, he jerks his chin. “what are you waiting for? get the fuck in.”

beaming, you squeal. “thank you!”

perturbed by your cheerful disposition despite how your morning’s going, you can only assume, he mutters some half-hearted insult under his breath and pays you no mind whilst he has a hand on the steering wheel and the other on your headrest, fingers drumming. 

satisfied when he hears the click of your seatbelt, he drives off. “you finish at three today, right? meet me at the parking lot by the gym at quarter past three. if you’re even a single second late, your broke ass is getting left behind, clear?”

“crystal.”

grimacing at your sudden laughter, he groans. “fuck this year’s gonna be a long one.”

and he couldn’t be more right.

[wow-thisismylifeiguess]

Cryptid Bruce

Martha and Thomas Wayne struggled to have a child for years and Thomas meets a shady man who tells him that a child will come to them soon

Thomas just ‘??? okaaaaaay’s him but in a week, Martha bursts into his office looking frazzled

“We’re being haunted.”

“….”

“Don’t give me that look, Thomas Wayne. The Manor. It’s haunted. Alfred! Tell him we’re being haunted!”

And Alfred comes in, also looking frazzled but to a lesser degree.

The two explain that things are moving around the Manor without any kind of explanation, but Thomas doesn’t believe them. Until he notices things in his office also being moved. The weirdest event is when they start hearing a child’s giggles. No explanation. None.

Not until Thomas, sleep deprived after going over paperwork for one too many hours, pops into the kitchen and…there is a child. Sitting on the kitchen counter.

The child, a boy, turns. Grins. Waves.

“Hi, daddy.”

—

Bruce, they name him, can melt into shadows. He finds it hilarious. Martha thinks she’s going to go grey at her young age. She adores him. Thomas adores him. He’s their son now.

The Waynes have a mysterious child, but they keep their private lives very private, so maybe they just successfully hid a pregnancy? And then a child. For…three years. They think Bruce is three, at least.

Despite how odd of a child Bruce is, they love him dearly. He’s some kind of miracle. A…very weird, possibly magical(?) miracle.

—

Dick thinks his adoptive father is strange. Extremely strange. Bruce makes absolutely no noise when he moves. He doesn’t cast shadows but he seemingly is able to *blend into them*. His smile, whilst genuine, seems a little too sharp.

He thinks he’s a vampire.

Bruce laughs so hard, he doubles over.

“No, but I am the Batman, so I guess you’re not far off.”

“…is this a joke?”

“Nope.”

“A dream?”

Bruce pinches him and Dick yelps.

Bruce doesn’t explain to Dick what he is, because he doesn’t have a clue himself. He just…is.

—

But when Jason comes along, he has a million and one questions. Bruce blinks at him.

“How did you do that? You literally *melted* into the shadows!”

Bruce shrugs.

“No. *No*. Explain.”

“I…can’t.”

“You said no secrets, B!”

Bruce puts his hands up defensively. “It’s not a secret! I really don’t know! It just…kind of happens.”

Jason stares at him. Bruce stands there. He seems to flicker? The edges of his body go a bit transparent and Dick knows he only does that when he’s stressed.

“Leave him alone, Jay. He’s telling the truth. He’s just…like that. But he’s still Bruce.”

It takes Jason two months to accept it. By then, his questions are more from genuine intrigue and wonder. He hides under Batman’s cape and somehow it’s spacious? It can even fit Dick at the same time. No one (but Bruce) can even hear them when they’re under there.

And then one day, when he goes to take a nap under Bruce’s cape, someone else is there.

“….B?”

“…”

“You know what I’m going to ask.”

“…”

“*Bruce*.”

“No real names, Robin.”

“No one can hear me!”

“…I didn’t kidnap him.”

“What his name?”

“Timothy Drake.”

“FROM DRAKE INDUSTRIES?”

And Tim wakes up, rubbing his eyes. He looks exhausted and way too skinny, and all of a sudden, Jason understands why Dick has cooed at him the first night Bruce brought him home.

“Um…hi.”

“B, we’re keeping him.”

Jason doesn’t need to see Bruce’s face to know he’s smiling.

—

Damian just…appears. Bruce suddenly understands his parents’ reactions to his first appearance because nearly the same exact thing happens. Bruce wakes up from a nap. He doesn’t need to sleep very often, something Tim finds incredibly annoying, declaring it to be *unfair*. He wakes up, and curled against his chest is…a boy. Who looks a *lot* like him.

“Uh.”

The child wakes up, blinks at him w striking green eyes.

“Hello Father.”

What the fuck.

Dick slams his way into Bruce’s office, followed by Jason and Tim, who are bickering with each other.

“DAAAAAAAD, THEY WON’T SHU- oh. Steal another kid?”

“…he just appeared.”

“That’s the excuse you used for Jason.”

“No. Literally. I fell asleep. No kid. Woke up. Kid.”

“My name is Damian.”

“That’s no fair. You came pre-named?”

Damian is as odd as Bruce. Actually, he’s weirder. And stabby. Bruce finds him *delightful*. He adores him.

—

Dick is Nightwing, Jason is Red Hood (no death, he just thought it was a cool name), Tim is Red Robin, and Damian’s Robin.

Bruce is Batman. Despite being in his late 30s, he still looks like he’s in his mid 20s.

—

Batman stands in front of a bank robber who’s going on about their evil bank robbing plans. Nightwing pops his head out from beneath Batman’s cape.

“Can you get to the point?”

Red Hood pops out next.

“I’m getting bored.”

Red Robin follows.

“This is sad.”

Damian.

“Scum.”

Batman sighs.

“Why are all of you here?”

“Missed you.”

They all chime in.

The robber.

“How…how the *fuck-?*”

“Language. There are kids around.”

“B, I’m 23.”

“Says the boy taking a nap in my cape. And I was talking about Red Robin and Robin.”

“…’s comfy.”

“I’m eighteen???”

“F- Batman! I am not a child!”

There’s some shuffling sounds, no doubt Red Hood moving over to ruffle Robin’s hair.

“Whatever you say, Tiny Demon.”

And then Red Hood shrieks.

“No stabbing your brothers, Robin.”

“He called me small!”

“…you are.”

“This is insulting, F- Batman. I will grow to be as big as you. No. *Bigger*.”

The robber watches in confusion, mild amusement, and horror.

Batman sighs.

“We’ll talk about this later. Now, you were saying? Blowing up the bank, terrorizing the people.” Batman yawns. “Anything else?”

“Just take me to Arkham. I think I’m insane.”

[himewonu]

ROMANCE IS HARD (TO GET) ; lee chan

summary he knows you like him; you know he likes you. all chan wants is to be your boyfriend, how hard can it be？ starring chan x f!reader genre fluff，mutual pining，inspo meant to be mv contains kissing (ugh)，mentions of alcohol，reader is literally just playing hard to get Lmfaoo…. word count 0.4k (lowercase intended)

from rhin, while i was writing this, my sister and i were told to do karaoke and she opened my phone to look for some songs and THE DRAFT OF THIS WAS OPENED and she started reading it😭 minutes later she was like “so who’s chan”….

you and chan escape out of the beachside restaurant. your friends went overboard with the drinks, and you didn’t want either you or chan to be next. you can hear the faint booming noises coming from the restaurant as you roam around the display of surfboards and parked motorcycles.

“what’s up with the random surfboards and bikes?” chan glances around the view, intrigued by the mix.

“apparently a lot of the local surfers and bikers go to this restaurant.” you’ve done your research about the restaurant, and the whole dynamic between the surfers and bikers sounds straight out of a movie.

you lean against a standing surfboard, watching the ocean wave at you from afar. chan stands next to you, and as you turn your head to look at him, his eyes meet yours. they avert to your lips, then back to your eyes.

right when he was about to lean in for a kiss, you turned to look at the surfboard next to you and brought up surfers and bikers. “if you were a local here, would you be a surfer or a biker?” you ask.

“biker,” he answers, still not looking away from you. you leave your spot and move around to keep looking at the surfboards and bikes.

“i’d probably be a surfer, with a lot of biker friends,” you chuckle at the thought of being protected by biker girls. “would you ever want a surfer girlfriend? or a biker girlfriend?”

“surfer girlfriend. unless you change your mind and you want to be a biker, then biker girlfriend.”

you sit down on the sand with your back against the wheel of a motorcycle. chan crouches down next to you, and you two make eye contact again. he tries to lean in for a kiss again, and just when he thinks you are finally accepting it, you move your head to rest on his shoulder.

“you’re so cute and funny, chan. i’d want my biker boyfriend to be like that.”

“i’d want my surfer girlfriend to kiss me back,” he mutters as he pats your head.

“you’re so desperate. take me out on a real date, and we’ll see,” you joke. “i just want to savour this moment for a while.”

“and then we can kiss?” he asks, knowing you’re probably going to say no. you pull away from his shoulder and look at him. the way his sight never leaves yours shows that he’s practically begging to be yours.

“i guess moments like these can be romantic.” you press your lips against his, falling against the sand floor while chan makes sure his lips never leave yours.

finally.

svt masterlist .ᐟ

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 11 || The Thorn and The Petal

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, angst, & fluff.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——"WELL, CONSIDERING THE FACT THAT he's my professor, I thought it'd be pretty obvious that he's one of the hardest on the list." Gojo's voice flew through your ear.

You had him on the phone as you lay on your stomach across your bed. Talking to him is something you want to limit as much as possible but you can't try anyone on the list completely blindsided so, sadly, you still need him.

"Then there's Nanami. As far as I know, he's not interested in sleeping with just anyone-- you'll most likely have to get to know him a bit." Gojo explains. You're taking little notes of this in a journal of yours since it's a lot of information to keep up with. "And uh, you said you met Choso already...?" The man over the phone asks.

"Mhm, ran into him in the hallway. He doesn't seem like he'll be hard to win over." You say casually.

Gojo pauses for a second. Then he sighs, "Yeah, the worst-case scenario with him is that he'll catch feelings for you."

A brow rose in suspicion, "What makes you think he'll catch feelings for me?"

"He's not like the other guys on the list. Aside from..." Gojo takes a second to think, "I guess, Nanami, I'm not sure Choso is used to or even understands the concept of a hookup."

"Meaning...?"

"Meaning, he'll grow attached."

"Okay well," You hesitate. "Let's just hope he doesn't."

"Right." Gojo chuckles a little, nearly sounding relieved.

You write some more stuff into the journal, trying to devise a plan for each man. "Okay and, can you just tell me the last two people on the list?"

"Oh. Well, there's Sukuna, who happens to be Choso's older... half-brother? I really don't know how their family works but, yeah." He answers, sounding a little confused on the matter himself.

You're quiet for a long moment, white noise heard through the phone. It takes you a few minutes to really process what that idiot just told you. First a professor and now you're learning that you have to fuck two people who are related...

"Gojo..." You let out a stressed sigh. "Y'know what, never mind."

"Nono, what is it?" He urges, interested in hearing how you feel about it.

He knows it's probably not the most easy thing to accept but, that doesn't make him care any less about how you feel.

Your eyebrows are tensed, "Half-brother?"

"Okay I know how it sounds but, I'm pretty sure they hate each other," Gojo tells you as if it's supposed to make things sound good.

"Oh my god," You reply, voice sarcastic, "That makes it so much better."

"Listen-"

"No Gojo, I really think I'm done listening. Who's the last person?" You divert.

The sound of him taking a deep breath can be heard, "Fuck, you're not gonna like this one either..."

"What is it?"

"It's Naoya... Who happens to be..." Gojo swallows hard, "Well, he's..."

"He's what?!" You huff, "Spit it the fuck out Gojo."

"I'm like fifty percent sure he's Mr. Fushiguro's cousin or something."

You scoff in pure disbelief. "Why am I not fucking surprised?"

"I'm sor-"

"Apologize to me one more time and I promise you, this will be our last conversation ever." You cut off.

You then drop the phone in your hand onto the bed, putting the man on speakerphone and moving your fingertips to massage your temples. A migraine is on the rise within your head and you don't know how much longer you can put up with this shit.

You swear the only good thing about this is the fact that you're getting paid.

Suddenly, as you think harder about the situation you're in, tears well up in your eyes. This shit sucks. It fucking sucks. You don't wanna do this. What if you get caught doing something with Toji? Or, what if one guy finds out about the other and then you experience a spiderweb effect of everyone figuring your little scheme out?

How can you get out of this situation? Why did it have to be you of all people? Why won't Gojo just find someone, anyone else to do this bullshit for you? Yeah, you need the money-- which is another thing for you to cry about because you can't get a proper job to save your life, but you still hate everything about this.

Before you even realize it, you're sniffling and wet spots are forming against the bed below you.

Gojo's still on the line, wondering if he's hearing things correctly. You hear him call out your name softly, almost as if he genuinely cares about you. The sound of his gentle tone alone makes your crying get a little worse.

"F-Fuck off," You choke out.

You then move a hand to hang up on him because you don't want him to hear you crying like this but he starts talking and you start listening before you press that bright red button.

"Wait, shit, listen. I know I'm an asshole, I know this whole thing is fucked up, I know I'm treating you terribly right now but..." Gojo trails off and you think you hear a thud on the other side of the phone. Did he just hit something? "Fuck, I know you don't want to hear this but I am sorry, honestly."

Your voice is a small whisper as you wipe your face off, "Screw you and your sorry."

"I... I-I'll triple it." Gojo suddenly offers.

You swallow and sniffle a bit, "Triple what?"

"The original price. I'm changing it to six thousand." He says.

You can tell he's serious about it too because as you stare at your phone in shock, you see another deposit made to your account to make up for the interactions you had with him and Geto.

"P-Per person??" You ask to clarify.

"Yes, it's... it's the least I can do, right?" Gojo sighs. Even though you want to ignore it, you can hear how disappointed in himself he sounds.

For another long moment, you're quiet. The least he can do? Bullshit. He's the one who put you in this damn situation in the first place.

"...No..." You end up mumbling out.

He scoffs lightly, "No?"

"The least you could do is delete the video and let me go." Your voice is as delicate as ever, gently hitting the man's ears in a way that makes his heart throb.

Gojo grits his teeth and although you can't see it, his head tips back against his bedframe as he stares up at his ceiling. His hands raise to his face and his words are a little muffled, filled with distraught, "...I can't do that, sweetheart. I can't." He breathes.

The man sounds almost pained at the thought of letting you go.

You scowl at the phone, eyes watering all over again, "S-Stop it with the damn nickname, I hate it-, I hate you."

Gojo has a broken little smile on his face and the voice you hear over the phone is full of hurt, "I know but-," He clears his throat a little and you hear him inhale deeply, "Fuck... you don't really mean that do you?" He whispers.

You don't know why you don't respond instantly like you were before. It's like the sound of his voice was getting to you. Why does he sound hurt too? This isn't affecting him the way it is you so, what the hell is his problem?

"...I don't know," You mumble, "I don't even fucking know anymore."

It goes quiet after that.

You couldn't hear much from your phone but the softest sounds of him moving. It was gentle movements though, not like he was doing anything inappropriate but almost like...

You don't want to think about it or even take a guess but it genuinely sounded like the man could've been crying over the phone.

As soon as you think about it, you scoff at yourself and shake your head. Gojo Satoru, crying because you said you hate him? Yeah right.

"I should uh," You sniffle a bit, "I should go-"

"I'll make it up to you." He suddenly sighs. "All of it. I swear, I'll make it all up to you, okay?"

Again, his words and the tone of his voice are yanking at your overworked heartstrings. "...Promise?" You whisper, having no idea why you're giving him this chance in the first place.

Gojo's smiling at his phone, hearing the change in your voice and feeling relieved that you're actually listening to him, "I promise."

With one last quiet okay slipping from your lips, the phone call ends there.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Within minutes after that ridiculously angsty phone call, you receive a text from someone that instantly has you blinking away your tears.

It's Choso.

It had been maybe a little over an hour and a half since you ran into him in the hallway but, here he was texting you already. It was a simple text that read; 'hey ik we just met and all but, can I call you?'. You had to blink a few times to register what you were reading.

After you mentally prepare for it, you go ahead and respond with a simple yeah in response. Seconds later, the male is calling-, no, FaceTiming you.

You think your heart sinks into your fucking toes. Your eyes are slightly reddened and puffy from the crying you just did and you do not want him to see you right now.

Regardless, you answered the call and have the camera directed toward the ceiling. Choso's stupidly handsome face pops up on your screen and you're smiling already.

"Hey uh, ok I know this is kinda awkward but my brother wouldn't answer and I wanted to show this to someone," He tells you, his voice like a calming balm to your ears.

"You could've just sent me a picture y'know..." You say, your tone noticeably light due to the tears you just shed.

Choso pauses for a second, staring at his phone. "Okay, scratch that for a second, are you okay?"

"Uhm, yeah? Why?"

"You sound like you were crying." He points out.

How the actual fuck can he tell?

You chuckle at him, "I wasn't."

"Then you sound upset. Did something happen?"

"Nothing I feel like talking about right now but, thanks for asking. What did you wanna show me?"

"I won't show you unless you tell me something." Choso says in full seriousness, "And plus, you're not even showing your face which further believes me to think you were crying."

Again, you laugh, "I uh, I just look a mess right now. And the only thing I'll tell you is... I dunno, I had an argument with my..." What the hell do you even refer to Gojo as at this point?

"Your boyfriend?" He suddenly fills in for you.

"No!" You huff, giggling at his assumption, "I don't even have a boyfriend."

You see him smiling a little, "Girlfriend, then?"

"No, Choso. I'm single."

"Ohhh." He hums, sounding genuinely surprised. "My bad, did you fight with a friend?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess you could call him that." You say, shrugging a little.

"Damn. It must've been a big argument."

"What makes you say that?"

His shoulders raised, "You don't even wanna call him your friend."

You scoff a little, "He's just... an asshole."

"One that made you cry?" Choso asks, arching a brow in suspicion.

"No," You roll your eyes, "I didn't cry, Choso."

"Show me your face then."

"I don't want to."

He scoffs, "That's how I know you were crying."

You hate the way the man is reading right through you. "I wasn't." You argue.

"Lying to me when the truth is obvious is crazy," Choso says dramatically.

"I'm not lying."

You see him shake his head in disappointment, "Damn, I might need to remember this as a red flag of yours; pathological liar." He tells you with his voice both serious and playful at the same time.

"You really don't believe me, huh?"

"Not until I see your face, no."

"Fine," You lift your phone slightly, only showing your face from the nose up.

Choso stares for a minute before suddenly smiling fully and holy shit is the sight sexy. The phone is quiet as he stares at you, almost dazed like how he was earlier. You feel a little awkward and have the urge to put the phone down but when he blurts something out, you end up freezing.

Choso tilts his head and his gaze is scrutinizing, "Your eyes are so fuckin' pretty, I'm gonna lose my mind." He compliments abruptly.

Your heart definitely stopped for a minute, maybe three. The way you drop your phone and sink your head into your blanket like a blushing and giggling teenager is comical at this point. The man's words made you smile so hard that your cheeks were starting to hurt.

"Don't... Don't say shit like that so suddenly," You say, chuckling through your words.

He shrugs and sits back into whatever chair he's in, "But it's true. Fuck, show me your full face this time."

"G-Gimme a second," You sigh.

"Why?"

Does he not realize how attractive he is right now? You can't even conversate normally.

"Cause' I... I need a minute." You mumble to him.

The corner of his lips is up in a smirk and damn the way he looks at the phone. "Did I just make you nervous?" He asks, his voice suddenly a little lower.

You scoff, "No."

"Liarrr," He taunts.

"I'm not lying."

He clicks his tongue, his eyes low on the phone. "Then show me your face, princess."

Jesus, the nickname caught you off-guard. You can't do this. Why is Choso so... so... hot? Sexy? Attractive? You don't even know what word to use for the man at this point.

"Fuck. Fine." You end up sighing.

Then, you slowly move to lift your phone and prop it up with a nearby pillow. Since you're laying on your stomach and you're wearing a loose tank top, your chest is pressed against the bed below and Choso has a full view of that and everything else from your neck up.

He blinks a few times and you pray that he doesn't say anything that'll fluster you again.

To your surprise, it seems as though you'd flustered the man without saying anything. Choso's head turns to the side as he looks away from his phone and you get a lovely view of his jawline. Damn, he's got quite the side profile.

You watch him inhale deeply and then peek over to his phone from the corner of his eye as if that'll change the sight on his device. You simply blink innocently at him as if you're unaware of the way you look right now.

"You alright over there?" You ask in an almost sultry tone.

Choso clears his throat and nods, turning to face his camera again, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure?"

He stares intently before saying, "You're somethin' else, y'know that?"

A chuckle leaves you as you tilt your head, "Am I?"

"Yeah. But uh, now that I can see you..." His eyes dart past his phone and you watch as he looks back and forth between the device and whatever is in front of him.

Your eyebrow raises in curiosity as you watch him, "What is it?" You ask.

"Oh, it's what I wanted to show you." He says and you watch him stand up and look down at his phone one last time. "Okay, it's not perfect but I hope you like it."

For a second you're still confused but when Choso flips the camera around, sheer surprise takes over your expression and your jaw literally drops. It was by far one of the most beautiful things you'd ever laid your eyes on.

"Don't freak out, I hope this isn't weird," Choso says quickly as he backs up a little and gives you a full view.

The man had painted you.

It was unique too. Not just like a normal portrait but like how you appeared in his eyes which just so happened to be so very beautiful. His art in general includes darker colors and you can see other paintings behind his newest one, all fitting in with his theme.

"Y-You painted me?" You say dumbfoundedly, "I thought you majored in graphic design."

He laughs, "I do but that's just for school. I paint in my free time."

"Choso you just saw my face for the first time a few hours ago, how the hell did you..."

"I honestly can't explain that," He says with a shrug, "When I got home I uh, couldn't get your face out of my head, and well, if I didn't draw or paint you I think I was gonna go crazy."

You study the art a little more. It's you but at a side profile, your gaze is downwards and you think for a second before you realize it's a painting of you as you were looking at his other art on his phone earlier. Choso painted an image of you from his perspective and boy was it beautiful.

There was predominantly black paint and he has this smudgy yet clean art style you don't think you've ever seen before.

"Choso that's beautiful, oh my god," You gasp, eyes wide and a smile prominent on your face.

You're so distracted by the canvas you're being shown that you miss as the man screenshots the reaction you have.

"You want it?" He offers simply.

You don't even know what to say, "Uhm, I dunno, i-it's your art."

"Yeah, but it's you."

"Kinda narcissistic for me to have a portrait of myself, don't you think?"

"Kinda stalkerish for me to have a portrait of a girl I just met, don't you think?" He asks in return, mocking you.

You giggle, "You're the one who decided to paint me."

"True. Alright then lemme ask this," He turns the phone back around to himself and you watch him sit back down, "Can I keep it?"

You blink. "It's your art."

"It's your face." The man fires back.

"I-," You sigh, "Yeah Choso, you can keep it."

He smiles, "Thanks."

"No, thank you. I didn't think I could look that good." You sigh, feeling all bubbly and light inside.

Choso tilts his head as he looks at his phone, "Have you seen yourself?"

"Don't give me that." You roll your eyes playfully, "Have you seen your art? You could make a pile of shit look good."

"I can't make anything look good, I can only work with the beauty that's already there."

Your voice gets caught in your throat for a second. When you swallow down the compliment he's given you, you can't stop yourself from smiling. "Y'know they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder right?"

"I'm aware. And in this case, I'm the beholder and you're someone I find beautiful." He responds.

Damn the way he's quick with all these comebacks. "I think your gaze is filtered." You say with a shrug.

You see him raise a brow, "By what?"

"I dunno, delusion."

Choso laughs wholeheartedly at you. "My gaze is delusional because I think you're beautiful? Wow."

For a long moment, you'd forgotten about everything again. You forgot about your rules, the list, the situation you're in-- all of it. For once, it felt peaceful, blissful even.

"I'm joking," You tell him, watching as he sighs in relief. "But on a serious note, thank you for this."

"For what? The painting?" Choso asks.

"Yeah, that and uh, calling me. You have some interesting timing."

"Oh yeah, no problem. I'm glad I made you feel better."

The way you and him have these little conversations so seamlessly is something you never want to end. He's so sweet and refreshing to talk to that you wish you could forget about the list and just run away with the man.

"Who says I was feeling bad...?" You reply to him.

Choso rolls his eyes, clearly seeing through you, "I don't like liars y'know..."

You pout, "Whatever."

"And I'm being for real, I'm glad I made you feel better. I uh, hope you and your friend fix things."

You scoff, "You wouldn't be saying that if you knew what he did."

"No, I would." Choso protests. He doesn't know the details but he's being genuine, "If whatever you guys were arguing about was enough to make you cry then, clearly you care about him."

Your head shakes slowly, "You don't have enough context on the situation to come to that conclusion."

"You didn't deny it-"

"I don't care about him." You cut off. "Trust me when I say, I hate him."

Choso chuckles at you. He didn't take your words seriously one bit. "Ehh, sounds like an enemies-to-lovers situation..." He comments with an innocent little shrug.

"Oh hell no, this isn't that." You assure the man.

He gives you a skeptical look, "You sure?"

"I'm positive."

"Damn." Choso blinks, "He really fucked up didn't he?"

"You have no idea."

"I wanna ask more buuut I don't wanna be nosy soo, m'kay." Choso results in saying. "Even so, I still hope you and him get through whatever it is you're going through."

You sigh, "I don't but, thanks Choso."

"No problem, princess." He says sweetly.

Fuck, he keeps catching you off-guard with that. It makes your brain get to stuttering and your face gets hot, "Don't call me that..."

"Why? It's fitting."

"No, it's not." You argue.

"Alright," He glances away to think before saying, "How about angel?"

You sigh, "Stop."

"Pretty girl?" He continues.

"Choso." You call.

He doesn't listen, "Doll? Baby?"

"You're still going..."

He pauses for a minute to think before uttering, "Sweetheart?"

Fuck that made you think of Gojo. You think your body freezes for a second at the thought of the man alone.

"Love?" Choso adds on, having no idea of your little history with these damn pet names.

"You can stop now," You say sternly. "Seriously."

"Alright, alright, my bad. I'll stick to the first one." He hums, "Unless you seriously don't like it...?"

The way he holds nothing but consistent care for your feelings toward things is truly endearing, "Nah, the first one's fine."

Choso nods, "Alright then princess, I'll talk to you later."

You're smiling all over again, "Bye Choso."

The two of you give a little wave to each other before the phone call comes to an end.

Oh, you definitely feel like a teenager all over again. The way he painted you the same day he met you, the way he speaks so charmingly to you, the way he... fuck it's everything about him

Scew Gojo and his shitty little promise of making things up to you, based on the one phone call you had with Choso-- there's nothing that white-haired bastard can do to fix the paining fact that your real chances with Choso are slim to none because you'd never be able to tell him about the list.

And god forbid the man finds out about it.

Butterflies are still stirring in your stomach, the feeling being the after-effect of talking to Choso. You don't want to like him but it's already difficult. You actually shouldn't and really can't like him.

You've gotta distance yourself going forward. You have to.

The question now is, will you be able to?

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ☐

KAMO CHOSO ☐

NANAMI KENTO ☐

??? SUKUNA ☐

??? NAOYA ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[cindol]

o̴̶̷᷄ o̴̶̷̥᷅ but daddy, i love him !

jjk x black fem reader

charas — gojo satoru, geto sugru, sukuna ryomen, yuki tsukumo, toji fushiguro,

𓈒 ♡̶ 𓂃 — when jjk men aren’t approved by your father.

𖧧 𓂃 ִֶָ — highschool au in all scenarios, fluff, crack, teenage pregnancy, drugging mentioned.,

geto suguru

a lot of people would think geto’s the best example of a guy who’s good for someone’s daughter. Perfect grades, star pupil of his class, the whole shabang but that was quite the opposite for your father when he officially met the man who won his babygirl’s heart at this dinner.

your mother was just all smiles, placing dessert peach cobbler on his plate but your father had a straight face with furrowed bushy black brows. Really geto tried everything in the book to impress your but he never smiled at any joke he made or accomplishment he mentioned.

once he came outside with your dad it was confirmed your father just didn’t like him.

“truth is boy, i just don’t like you, don’t want you or your loud mouthed ass friends around her or you around her.” saying that all while smoking a cigarette.

mentally, geto could sigh. Of course the one equation to this was gojo, always was. Geto put on a front, making a tight nit smile. “well, i guess i understand that sir.” he wasn’t looking to get into a argument with his girlfriend’s father. geto still never quit, because why would he over some salty dick trying to keep him from his pretty girlfriend?

at the dead of night you heard small dropping noises at your window. You were on your way to sleep after finishing homework at such a late time but that garnered your attention. You got up from your desk and walked to your window, when you looked down geto was there in all his glory, on a tall ladder in his infamous white t-shirt, baggy pants with his hair out of a bun.

you gasped at the sight of him. “g-geto?! what the hell are you doing here so late? it’s like, midnight!” talking in a hushed yelling whispering tone to not alert your parents.

geto just had that calm smile on his lips with relaxed hooded eyes. “well your father unfortunately has a large stick up his ass and commanded me not to see my girlfriend, so i’m here to kidnap you away.” he said, half joking.

you covered your mouth, but a small giggle came out at his words. “my dad will seriously have your ass if he knew you were here.”

“that’s why i’m taking you and then returning you righttt back. You wanna come with me don’t you?”

for a moment you looked around, mostly at your door since your parents room was right across from yours then back to geto to sigh. You couldn’t say no to him, never could since you met him.

you exhaled out a small breath. “i can’t say no to you. Just, let me get dolled up a little at least.”

he scoffed gripping your wrists making you squeak out a little grunt. “don’t need you to be all dolled up, just come with me in those cookie pajamas and afro puffs.”

once again you grouch, but decided to climb down the latter in your white shirt, black bonnet and black cookie patterned pajama pants.

gojo satoru

your father didn’t like cocky assholes. If it wasn’t for gojo’s witty humor and cockiness he would actually accept him as your boyfriend since he saw gojo as a good money bag.

now for gojo he didn’t care if your father seethed him and grounded you not to see him. In gojo’s eyes he loved his girlfriend and a bitter old guy wouldn’t stop him from loving you.

when you saw a man in all black climbing through your window your immediate instinct was to run over to the window and scream while hitting the body that was halfway through it with your pillow.

you stopped once you heard that familiar “ouch ouch!” then stood with a pillow in one hand with your other hand on your hip. “gojo? what are you even doing here so late!”

he huffed, dusting himself off and ruffling his hair.”well now that my girlfriend isn’t beating me with a pillow i came to take you out for a romantic little date.”

a smile formed on the corner of your lips, turning into a grin on your two tones brown lips, mostly at the romantic date aspect. “this late at night? How romantic of you, satoru.” you teased him, but it was cute for someone like gojo.

“what? old man don’t want you sneaking around goodie two shoes?” he bantered back at you.

“well he’s not even really inside, late shift at work till 2PM, so him finding out is out the window.”

gojo’s eyes were wide with shock. “so did i just like…. borrow geto’s latter for no reason?”

you giggled, nodding.

“well shit… let’s go out the front then. Makes my job as a boyfriend easier now!”

toji fushiguro

toji wasn’t the ideal boyfriend for a normal girlfriend, he knew that and your dad did. Your father tried with him, as much as he could try as a normal middle class dad until toji decided he didn’t wanna practice safe sex and impregnated his daughter. It made matters more complicated when you wanted to keep the baby too.

your father banished you from ever seeing toji but he didn’t know that a simple command didn’t sedate a pregnant sad girl, you went lengths to see your boyfriend, going far enough to drug the poor man your dad hired to watch you while he was out on a late shift.

toji was taken aback when he saw opened his front door to his pregnant girlfriend he hadn’t seen in six weeks, in pajamas and a purple bonnet. By the sulking look on her face he could tell you had been crying in your free lonesome time.

“shit… y/n? ya dad actually allowed you to see me?”

you shook your head. “he’s out on a shift so, i had to sedate the poor security guard’s he hired. Had to see you”

it wasn’t appropriate right now but toji smirked at that.”taught ya well huh? My girlfriend drugged her first man.” he joked. That got a dry laugh from you, despite your saddened expression.

there was a long silence till you spoke again. “i just…. need to see you, can’t take this loneliness in that damn house with that asshole i call my blood father. I don’t care if your mom is here either i just—”

he interrupted with you by bringing you into his arm. “you know she’s always fucking off somewhere at a bar again, now come and get inside, can’t have my pregnant girlfriend depressed alone.”

[revelboo]

You dont have to write for him if you dont want to but what do think about Smokescreen aka Destinys child from tfp?

Sure- I’m running out of Motion City Soundtrack songs to cycle through. 18+ 🌶️

Resolution

TFP Smokescreen x Reader

• “Yeah, I know. I’m not a sparkling,” he mutters into the communicator, hearing Arcee make a noise of patented disagreement. “I won’t be seen. There’s no one around, anyway.” Even if he hadn’t been on Earth long, it’s been long enough to understand that Jasper is the middle of nowhere. An almost endless expanse of nothing. When he’d ended up here, working with Optimus, he’d been sure that his luck was changing. That this was destined. But it had ended up being a lot of pointless errands and being treated like a sparkling. And he’d needed to stretch his legs, to get outside and away from that overwhelming feeling that they’re all second guessing him. Doubting that he can do anything.

• Jasper. When you’d started for the coast, for California, this has been only a temporary setback. You’d been so sure when the car broke down that you could find a job, work just long enough to get the car fixed and then be gone. Two years later, you’re still here. Still stubbornly refusing to call your parents for help. Determined to do this on your own. To not hear the ‘I told you so’ and have to admit you’d failed. It’s a whole lot of nothing here, but at night there’s so many more stars than where you’d grown up. No city lights to obstruct that glittering sky. So you come out here sometimes and stargaze from the hood of your car. Still dreaming of California, but accepting you’re probably never getting there.

• Always looking over his shoulder, always questioning his decisions like he’s too young to know anything. Too green. Tipping his head up toward the stars, he tries to find Cybertron and realizes he has no idea where it is. Spark aching with that realization because it feels so wrong, like he should just know. Sees the car parked just off the road and assumes it’s abandoned. He’s seen enough of them that it’s not unreasonable. The engine dies out here and the humans don’t bother to fix it. Just leave their trash. Walking across the sand, head tipped back he doesn’t notice the human lying on the car’s hood. He hears the sound though, that sharp intake of breath.

• Staring wide eyed at the big robot as it turns luminous optics your way, you don’t move. Can’t. Too terrified as it raises its hands. “Frag,” it growls and you suck in a breath. “Don’t.” As soon as it takes a step toward you, you scream and roll. Nearly falling when you slide off the hood. Hearing a much louder ‘frag’ and then it’s chasing you as you run for your life.

• Oh, Primus, he’s never going to live this down. Especially after Arcee just warned him to not be seen. They’re never going to let him out of the base again. Why were you even out here? Screaming shrilly, you dart deeper into the desert with him on your heels. How can something so little, move so fast? You’re not exactly coordinated though, sliding down a dune and falling. Giving him time to catch up and snag you in a hand. And you just go limp as he freezes. Did he just kill you by accident? No, no, no. Servos sliding over you, he finds the beat of your heart and vents. Alive, because otherwise he’d never be trusted again. But now what? He can’t leave you out here. Can he?

Next

[fashionteahouse]

out of your league - paul x reader

AN: Thank you so much to all you for the loving and supporting the last twelve parts of this story🥹💜 you guys are the best !!! <<prev >>next

You don’t remember falling asleep, but the last memory was you watching an old rerun of a show you liked on the couch.

When you blinked your eyes open, you rise from the bed in the bedroom. You sat up, rubbing your eyes. You yawn and look over to find Paul gone.

You carry on your day, washing your body in the shower and getting dressed. The canvas that was empty, was soon marked by charcoal. A wave of sadness poured onto the artwork, as you thought about everything that transpired recently.

By the end, you were happy that you made something, but on the other hand, you didn’t like the circumstance it took for it to happen.

Walking to Emily’s, your mind goes a mile a minute. Thoughts of last night’s situation made you rethink things.

You close the door behind you as Emily smiles and greet you. It’s still pretty early in the day, the faint noise of neighbor’s lawn mowers buzz about.

She hands you a homemade muffin, you accept it, feeling the hunger take over in your stomach.

“Sam is gone?” you ask her, as she nods. You let her do most of the talking until Sam does come in. You don’t see Paul come in. After Sam is done embracing Emily with his mouth, you speak to him while wringing your fingers a bit.

“Can I talk to you really quick?” you ask him. He nods and pulls away from Emily as you both make your way outside on the porch.

“Everything alright?” he asks you once the air settles.

“I don’t know…You trust Emily right? To be able to still live life without being scared, right?” you ask him.

“I guess you can say that. She doesn’t know but..sometimes if she’s running errands I check on her to make sure she’s safe.” he reveals to you but gives you a look, “Is this about Paul?”

You nod, “I’m not going to pour our problems onto you or anything, but it’s frustrating to know that he wants me stagnant. I get there’s danger out there but I’m always honest about where I am.”

Sam nods in agreement, “You definitely should talk to him. He went to the basketball court if you’re looking for him.” he says and place a compassionate hand on your shoulder. He turns to walk away but stops, “Don’t let his wolf bully you.” he says. As he walks in the house, you make your way to the basketball court.

Sure enough he’s there but a trickle of people are there too. You catch sight of him and call to him. He pauses the game and walks out of the entrance of the court, meeting you. His face is still hardened.

“We have to talk.” you say to him, not softening your voice. You weren’t gracing him with any sort of politeness after what he did. He looks to the side and sighs softly, “About what.”

“A lot.” you tell him.

He looks to you, “I don’t want to argue. Seriously.”

“We’re not arguing. We’re talking.” you say with dominance that surprised both you and him. The look he gave you let you know you really had his undivided attention.

“Let’s sit here.” you tell him. You both sit on a bench. He rests his elbows on his knees as you cross your arms with your leg crossed over your next leg. You don’t take your eyes off of him as he doesn’t take his eyes off of you.

“Paul. I get you want to protect me. I really do. But, you can’t isolate me, thinking that’s the best way.” you start off.

“I’m not isolating you.” he says in denial.

“You are. You seriously got mad that I went with Emily to a bookstore instead of staying in the house.” you tell him, when he doesn’t say anything, you continue, “I’m not going to let you or anybody dictate what I can or cannot do. I’m honest about where I go so it’s not like I lie to you or anything. You call, I answer. You text, I answer. You just don’t trust me and it’s killing us.”

“I’m afraid, Y/N. I just don’t want anything to happen to you and I’m not there. That’s what will kill me.”

“Nothing’s going to happen. I don’t want you to keep speaking it into the air. I’ve been managing just fine even before you phased and we found out about all of this supernatural stuff.”

He sighs and looks ahead. He straightens up and leans back. His face is much more softening and he seemed to process the words from your mouth. He looks to you, “I’m sorry.”

“For?” you ask him.

“For.. Not trusting you.” he says.

“And?” you press on.

“And..Being angry with you. For making you feel bad, and being a bit controlling.” he says in a genuine manner.

You lean close to him, “A bit?”

This makes the corner of his lip rise a bit and he placed a hand on your knee as you lean your body to him. He then cups your chin and leans to give you a kiss but you pull back. His face looks as if he was a kid who just found out he isn’t getting anything for Christmas.

“You made me eat dinner alone. You’re not getting off that easy.” you tell him and he looks as if he is internally kicking himself. You rise up from the seat as he watched you with pitiful eyes.

“You can go back to your game. I swear, I will be at the beach.” you tell him and take his hands as he rises from the bench as well. He looks down at you with the same glum look.

But, it quickly replaces with a smirk when he says, “You sure you don’t want to watch me kick their asses?”

You softly chuckle as you give him a tight hug with your check pressed onto his chest. “I appreciate you, Paul. I really do. I love what we have.” you tell him and he hugs you back just as tight. He leans down and gives you a big kiss on the cheek anyway.

“I love what we have too.” he says softly back in your ear. Your stomach dance and flutter, filled with butterflies. You pull back to let him walk back to his match.

As you’re walking to the beach, you feel a buzz from your phone.

“Hey. Are you still at the beach ?”

You type back as the beach is almost in your view.

“Yeah. I actually just arrived.”

“Okay see you in a bit.”

You walk along, watching the water meet each other over and over again. The sea salt smell fill your nostrils as the feather light breeze dance on your skin.

You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there, but you feel a tap. You turn around and Bella is standing there with the promised book in her hands.

“Hi.” you say to her and she smiles back, “Hey.”

She holds it out for you to take. You take it in your own possession, you look at it to see the book was definitely used. It wasn’t messed up but it was evident she read it time and time again.

“How many times have you read this?” you ask her chuckling.

“More than I can count.” she admits.

“Well, thank you. I will try not to hog it for too long.”

“Take your time. I come down here a lot anyways.” she tells you.

You walk to the fallen log that’s near by, she followed you. You both sit down.

“What’s Forks like?” you ask her.

She shrugs, “It’s so so. I miss home.”

“Where’s home?”

“Arizona. I lived with my mom but I came here to be with my dad.”

“What do you like to do besides reading?” you ask her, zeroing in on a pebble thats sunbathing in the sand.

“Um…Not much..I mean I cook if you count that.” she says.

“I guess.” you tell her with a humor tone, “What about friends? You don’t hang out?”

“Not much. I um…spend most of my time with my boyfriend anyway so..” she says shaking her head and looks down.

“Oh. Well, same here. Besides reading, I draw from time to time.”

“Really?” she asks, her eyes filled with interest.

You nod, “For payback I can let you look through my sketchbook.” you say.

“Awesome.” she says smiling.

Your mind then clicks. You ask her the question that’s now itching your brain. “What’s your boyfriend’s name?”

“Edward. You have one right?” she answers.

“Yeah. Paul.” you tell her trying to keep your even tone but you finally put two and two together when Edward’s name hit your ears. This was the Bella Swan they were talking about. The one who is dating a cold one. She never told you her last name. You start to feel nervous.

“He lives here in La Push?” she asks. You nod. “Where is Edward now?” you ask, you don’t know why but you just had to know. You didn’t know if this chick lured people to him.

“He’s on vacation for the summer.” she just says in an uninvolved tone, you quickly learned that she’s not a good liar, “You’re pretty lucky that you get to still see yours.” Even the blind could see she missed him.

“I guess…Well, I’m going to go meet him. I’ll see you around?” you tell her as you stand up. Her face is a bit sullen as she nods and then look and sees that you left the book on the log.

“Oh! Don’t forget this.” she says and put it in your hands.

“I’ll see if Jake’s home. I can give you a ride if you want.” she adds on.

“It’s okay. I’ll walk.” you tell her.

“Are you sure? I mean, it’s no problem. I’m sure he’s on the way.” she tells you.

That’s how you were in the passenger seat of her truck. The truck drove slow but you could tell she didn’t mind at all.

“Here is fine.” you tell her at the basketball court.

“Which one is he?” she asks as she looks over at the tense game. Her eyes followed their movements, knowing she would never be as athletic as them.

You point to the one who steals the ball with ease and dribble it down the court.

“Wait..That’s your boyfriend?” she asks, her hand is still on the wheel but she forms it onto a point.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing..It’s just that, I heard some things..That’s all.” she says and shakes her head trying to dismiss her case.

“That’s kind of funny..I heard some things too…” you say with a knowing look that had her stuck, “Thanks for the ride.” you tell her and close her truck door before she could say anything else.

“You all suck ass!” Paul laughs as he savors his new victory. All of the opposing team’s faces were fallen. He tosses their ball back to them. You put some of your fingers in the holes of the fence as Paul walks over to you and sighs happily, “Did you see that?”

“Of course I did. They all suck ass.” you tell him, mimicking him. This only makes him laugh as he comes around from behind the fence to meet you without restrictions.

Moving closer, he brushed the back of his fingers down your arm to interlock your fingers with his.

“We should do something.” he says to you in an alluring voice.

“What?” you ask him, enjoying both souls being able to window each other.

“Do you want to go cliff diving with me?” he asks you.

You thought back to when you were there, remembering the height.

“Are you crazy?” you ask him with a worried look.

This only brings out a rich laugh from him, “It seems high, but it’s not that high.”

“Are we talking about the same cliffs?” you ask.

He nods, “You will love it. I promise.”

The excitement that bubbled all over his body language, made you curious about the expected activity. You allow him to lead you back to the house, changing into swimwear.

Peering over the overlapping water, you feel the soft breeze whip on your skin. You look to Paul, only finding a look of thrill as he watched the water below with you.

“Do you want me to hold you?” he asks you softly, sensing a sense of nervousness from you.

“Please don’t let go of my hand?” you ask in a small voice.

He casts an iron grip over your hand, making you feel like you wouldn’t be able to detach your hand from him even if you wanted to.

“Never.” he tells you with a covered look of solicitousness as he looks back at you.

You both walk closer to the edge, the noise that’s below is making sure to be heard, swimming in your ears.

You close your eyes, but then shake your head and open them again. You wanted to do it like ripping off a bandaid.

“Okay..3..2…1.” you count down and before you could process anything, you’re in the air.

The wind brushed up as you both got closer and closer to the water.

You allow the water to hug and welcome you, covering your entire being. Needing oxygen back into your lungs, you swim to the surface.

“Oh my god! Why was that actually so fun?” you say with a joyful smile on your face.

He forms his own devilish smile, “I told you.”

You both swim around the large body of water for a moment before he asks, “Do you want to go again?” You nod as you both make the way back to the top.

He lowers and bend his back, wanting you to hop on his back. Your arms wrap around his neck with him not caring how tight you have it. The screams weren’t from terror, they were from pure enjoyment. You loved how you got to just lay back and allow the water consume you. Swimming around and splashing each other, you both didn’t notice the sun setting.

“I’m starving.” Paul tells you as you lazily float on your back. You chuckle at the way he says it.

“Home or Emily’s?” you ask him.

“Home. We should shower.” he tells you while trickling drops of water from his hand onto your chest. You both swim to shore, walking back to the car, he holds you close to your body allowing his body heat to seep onto you.

You didn’t walk long before he scoops you up into his arms as he carries you to the car.

The hot steam fills the room, bringing an ethereal glow to both bodies. God knows how innocent the washing session was, but eyes were curious. It didn’t help with Paul catching you sneak glances down at him. He leans and captures your mouth. Pressing his hand at the back of your head to bring you to him.

It felt like forever since both lips touched, causing each other to feast on each other’s mouths. Before it got too hot and heavy, you rinse off. You feel a hand take yours and place it on his bare, soap covered flesh, before you knew it, you were sensually stroking him with his hips meeting your movements. Both of his hands were placed above you, pressed against the wet tiles with his head down at the sight, groaning and moaning at the feeling you were giving him before he steps back and lets his load swim down the drain.

Your body was tired but relaxed from the cliff diving. The shower helped with your muscles, still allowing you to move about in the kitchen.

As you were waiting for the dinner to finish cooking on its own, you check your phone. You view a text.

“Y/N I wasn’t trying to be rude. I’m sorry if I was.”

You type back to Bella’s apologies.

“It’s okay.”

Over warm food, you express something to Paul as he stuffs his mouth.

“Yeah, I’ll try to go with you.” he says to you when you tell him about the gallery opening in Seattle. You had asked him to come with you. He knew how to calm your nerves and that’s what you needed for that day. He didn’t know if he was going to be on duty that day.

As he washed the dishes, you barely could keep your eyes open but you wanted to read the book that was loaned to you. You lie in bed with the book standing up on your stomach with one hand holding it up and tried your best to let your eyes read the words.

Paul’s abrupt comment startled you a bit due to tiredness, “This is what you made?”

You look to see him holding the canvas, his eyes run over what you poured out from your heart. It made him feel something. The strokes of watercolor, brought out the emotion perfectly. It was so sad, it was beautiful.

“Yes.” you answer, “I made it today.”

He doesn’t say anything as he stared at it. Little to your knowledge, he didn’t know whether or not to feel sorry or proud. It was so good but it was obvious that you made what you felt. He gently sets it back down and lies next to you in bed.

You go back to reread a passage that you barely paid attention to from being drowsy. He plants an affectionate kiss on the side of your eye, your cheekbone and keeps his lips there.

He then lays on his back as you close your book and scoot closer to him. You curl up beside him and rest your arm and head on his chest, his breathing rise and fall, drifting you fast asleep.

You look down at your drawings, crying out fat tears. They fell down like flows of water. You picked up shredded pieces and each piece felt like your heart was the one in shreds. You cursed at the universe and you cursed everyone around you.

You woke up, glad that the dream wasn’t real, you tiredly smile to yourself as you were back in the real world. Tangled into each other’s bodies, Paul was sound asleep, snoring softly.

He wasn’t holding you too tightly, allowing you to slide out of the bed. With no set plans for the day, after using the bathroom, washing and brushing your teeth, you flopped on the couch and ate a bowl of cereal. Clicking through the channels, you land on a nostalgic program.

The soft chatter of the characters mixed in with the sounds of your crunches and the clink of the bowl. The show you were watching had your attention, you didn’t even notice Paul coming out and move in the kitchen.

He lifted the spoon to his mouth as he idly walked past you and sat on the couch. The episode ran its full course before Paul gets up and takes you and his bowl in the sink.

You read the message you have received from Jared.

“I don’t want to, but i still have to ask. are you coming to Kim’s birthday dinner tomorrow? we’re having it at Emily’s.”

“ :/ ” you type back.

Paul changes the television settings to support his game console. As soon as he got the news that he didn’t have to patrol until later on that night, he made plans to not move from his spot.

You get up to leave the room, feeling that he might want his space.

“Where are you going?” he asks, confusion was coating his tone.

You point out of the room but he smiles a little as he thrusts a second controller in your direction.

Your hands cover your eyes as he laughs at your reaction.

“What?” he tried to innocently ask.

“I can barely beat you in card or board games. What makes you think I can beat you on your machine?” you ask him.

“We’re not playing against each other. You will be on the same team as me. So you have to listen.” he teased the last part, you sat next to him, looking at the survival game.

The eerie music booms through the speakers, setting the mood, and spiking your nerves at the fact of possibly dying before moving on from level 1.

As the game loads in, he chuckles at your tense state at holding the controller and your gaze at the loading screen.

“Y/N, just relax.” he says to you but the screen starts rolling in with both characters stagnant in the middle of the selected setting.

“Okay, follow me.” he says to you as you move the controller’s joystick to make your character follow him.

“So, what do we do?” you ask, your eyes is focused on the screen in front of you, opposing to Paul’s relaxed body language.

“All you have to do- okay Y/N, pick up the gun right there. ” he says to you as a disfigured creature make its way toward you. It’s moving slowly since the level is only at 1, giving you enough time to equip the weapon.

Instead, you’re bending down but not picking it up. “Here.” Paul says and just places his hand on the controller while you’re still holding it, to press the correct button.

“Okay. Now, shoot.” he says and you look down, trying to find the button he told you to press. Paul’s character already had dead creatures laying at his feet.

You tried your best, missing some of your shots while he laughs at the sloppiness, but at least the creature is down.

“It’s not funny.” you say plainly as you nudge his arm.

“You’re right. That was hilarious.” he says and chuckles again at the face you give him.

The wave of level 2 happening floats across the screen.

“You have to aim.” he says stressing the importance as you playfully roll your eyes.

The creatures come out with a bit more speed while Paul praise you up, “Come, on Y/N.” he says as he sprays his bullets.

You kill another one but another creature comes after you, causing Paul to shoot the one that attacked you and he heals you back to your feet.

The wave of round 2 ending swims across your screen as Paul asks for your controller, equipping upgrades for your weapon and character.

Round three was easier, Paul did most of the work but you were getting the hang of the game, following his advice to look behind yourself.

By the fifth round, the creatures stopped taking their good time to eat you. Paul did not get there in time which causes your character to spectate Paul battle off the rest. Soon, he stops trying knowing that he’s alone and let the game reset to the menu of :

play again?

You set your controller down and get up, “Alright I quit.”

“What?” he says while smiling, “Come on, please? It was getting fun.”

“I was not having fun dying. I’ll watch you.” you tell him.

“If you watch me, when I die you have to play the next rounds with me.” he says to you as he plays solo.

“Why?” you playfully whine.

“Because, you haven’t gotten to the good parts. Just wait until they start flying.” he tells you, furrowing his eyebrows at the screen to focus.

“You’re on your own, kid.” you tell him and pat his shoulder.

Not caring that his character on screen was in danger, he sets the controller down as you’re walking back and reaches to tickle your sides.

Your body jerks and folds as he pulls you closer, as you’re forcefully laughing. His fingers was digging deep into your sides, making you out of breathe.

You squeal a little bit as you gasp out, “Okay…Okay! Uncle!”

He laughs at you and you reach and plop a pillow on his head with more force than you were initially trying to hit.

The stunned look on his face makes you gasp but laugh, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” you chant as he’s reaching you once more. You try to move to get away but his long arms are much faster than you, pulling you right back in the same spot.

You’re thrashing on the couch as he reaches under your arms, making you contort your body in an almost exorcism manner. Your throat runs out of laughter as you wheeze out and your arms try to push him away.

He finally lets up, allowing you to wipe your tears from being over tickled. He has a sly smile as you try to reach for his sides. You move your fingers to mimic the deep tickles. He watched this in amusement.

“Nice try. I’m not ticklish.” he tells you.

This makes you groan as he chortles. He takes your hands that were resting on his sides and pull you over him. He takes the back of your head to bring you down to his lips. Opening his lips to let his tongue swipe on your bottom lip, you sigh into his mouth as he sucks your tongue and pulls back.

He looks at your hooded eyes and leans forward to place a wet kiss on your ear, he then whispers, “We should try something.”

“Try what?” you whisper back, trying to hold yourself together from the waves of his hips, making his bulge hit directly on your sex.

Making you stand up, he yanks your pants down, with you stepping out of them. Making himself completely bare in front of you, he couldn’t help but stroke himself as he lies down on the couch.

You peel your shirt off as he directs you to climb on top of him but with your back facing him. He scoots you up, your knees on either side of his chest as you breathe out a whoosh of air.

His engorged penis was right at your face, staring back at you. You stroke him like how you saw him do it to himself. He still makes deep grunts as he works his mouth and tongue, while you ride his face. Your eyes are closed, he doesn’t mind that you slowed down your strokes, he just wanted to eat at you.

Fluidly bucking your hips back at him while you hold on his thighs to support yourself, he grips and grabs all of the skin that his hands could reach, your pretty moans sounding like music to his ears. His mouth is still attached to you as you jerk from the hard climax he gave you.

As you calm down, he slides you down with your back still facing him. You sink down on him as you both groan in synchronization. You grind and bounce with your hands behind you on your lower back and bottom.

You were so in the zone, you almost missed his tapping to signal you to get up. He pumps the dribbling substance in his hand, biting his lip and groaning. You sit watching him trying to catch your breath, sitting back on the couch with your knees to your chest but your legs halfway open.

He looks over to you to see if you’re okay but he groans out, “Oh, don’t do that.” he says to you. You huff out a small laugh as he was clearly tempted.

After cleaning each other up in a shower session, you lie on your stomach on the bed, reading the book that was loaned to you.

You made it your mission to read it before summer ends, before Edward comes back. Plans of meeting him was not on your radar.

“What are you thinking about?” Paul asks you. One eyebrow was raised a bit as he watched you stare at one page longer than necessary.

You shift from your stomach to your side to get a better look at him, “I don’t know….” The imprinting wouldn’t allow you to lie. “Are the Cullens on vacation?”

“I don’t know…Why?”

You didn’t want to work him up all over again, “It’s summer time. They burn in the sunlight right?”You’ve seen enough movies of vampires staying in from the sunlight, only for them to burn from the rays of the sun once they step out in the daytime.

“No. They sparkle.” he snorts and rolls his eyes a bit at the ridiculous information that he gives you. You flip a page before he speaks up.

“Which friend gave you that book again?”

Damn.

“Uh…Erm..” you say but he sits up a bit straighter, focusing on what you’re going to tell him.

“Stop, you’re making me nervous.” you tell him and he relaxes a bit but his eyes don’t match his body language.

“Her name is Bella.”

“She went to our school?” he asks you, his face showing him trying to remember.

“No. I met her when I was buying a book that day at Port Angeles. I bought Pride and Prejudice and she told me she could lend me this, since she saw me trying to buy it.”

He hums a response but he’s still skeptical. You just didn’t ask questions like that out of the blue, especially while you’re thinking deep about something. He wants to keep peace right now. Not wanting any friction from pressing for more, he lets you leave it at that. You let your eyes drop from his intense ones, once you seen that he wasn’t going to hound you for more questions.

You thought about what happened earlier as you shake your head slightly. It was a perfect subject changer.

“Jared texted me earlier.” you tell him. He’s still interested in what you have to say.

“About what?”

You tell him about Kim’s birthday dinner.

“I know she told him to ask me but why won’t she leave whatever be, be?” you say as your fingers play with the edges of the pages of the open book.

He shakes his head slightly, “Your guess is as good as mine.” he says quietly.

His eyes trail off and land on your newest piece. “Are you going to take that?” he says to you, nodding in the direction of where it stood up.

You turn to look and you shrug.

“You should.” he says at your indecisiveness.

“I might.” you tell him. It seemed so personal. But then again, you didn’t want to feel like that again. Maybe it was best to take it with you to the gallery opening event. Your main thing was to network after all. Setting your mind on yes, the worst thing that you didn’t want to experience was regret.

[absolutebl]

When it comes to problematic content in QL, everyone has different tolerance levels, and different definitions for it. For you personally, how much is too much? And given that some of your faves/constant rewatches may not have aged well, do you adjust your tolerance as you go, do you just ignore it/tune it out, or do you watch, cringe, and carry on? Does problematic content make you lose love for something with time?

Hum, complex question.

I guess it's usually context and origin for me. Like I forgive Japan stuff I won't take from Thailand because it's... Japan, kinky and boundary pushing is what they do. I don't always like it, but I will usually watch it. I understand their POV and style. And more importantly, so do they.

Certainly that has to do with how well established Japan is both in BL and as a film industry. But there's something more going on. They usually have something to say when they trigger, something thoughtful and provoking about culture, or queerness, or the BL genre.

Where as Thailand doing something similar will come off as clumsy and puerile, like they are teens who don't know any better and are just poking at their audience to see what kind of reaction they get. Or worse, don't even realize when they make a misstep - they just needed it for plot or are executing a tired trope.

I want finesse with my abuse!

I don't mind being manipulated, but I can't catch it in the act. I need to notice it after, and then I make tiny clapping noises.

For me too much is often when it's too predictable in the wrong way, or when it's poorly executed. Like rape just for a plot point. Or lack of consent when it makes no sense for either character or story arc.

I don't like it when poor writing hits me up side the head. Like (and I will harp on this forever) did he have to steal that key and break into his hotel room? Did we all have to overlook it and think, for some reason, that was okay? It wasn't necessary for the plot. It was lazy writing.

I hate lazy writing.

I'd rather bad writing.

How do I put this?

If Japan had done that, it would have been some weird creepy edgy stalker aspect to the seme's character and it would have been purposeful. The dirtiness of it would have been part of characterization. Undies would have been stolen. The lens would have told us to find it off-putting. It would have been done with intent.

Thailand's lens often makes bad/stalker/creep behavior seem normal or acceptable.

If Japan reads your private journal we, the audience, will all know how gross that feels. The grossness will be part of the creepy kinky plot. If Thailand does it... it's just passed over as fine. Or worse, romantic.

Japan does its violations with intent. Because they like the edge. They want to make us a little bit uncomfortable... at all times.

Thailand does it with a blunt butter knife and expects us to overlook a character flaw.

Back to your question...

So given it's a BL producing country that I know is clumsy about this (like Thailand) sometimes I notice and get annoyed, and sometimes I sigh and it doesn't bother me. Often that has to do with my mood. Sometimes it's the chaos of the show. Like with say Pit Babe, or The Sign, eventually I'm just overwhelmed by the absurd crazy of it all. Probably because they clearly aren't taking themselves seriously, the whole darn show: cast, crew, production, everybody.

Sometimes the violation in question is simply not a trigger for me so I don't mind.

Sometimes it reads as a kink and then I kinda like it (Taiwan will do this a lot).

Sometimes I don't even notice.

Yes, certainly I have dropped show or moved on from rewatching older stuff because now it bothered me, where once it did not (cough cough TharnType).

But others I still understand (if not love) because they say something about the time they were made and what the genre was then, like Takumi-kun.

Some stuff I loved so much when it first aired and still love with such nostalgia that I don't really see its flaws. UWMA is likely one of those. It's always great to me, even on rewatch, even after 810 other shows.

But I think UWMA might not be great to someone who started watching BL in 2022 or comes to the genre out of Korean BL, for example.

Does problematic content make you lose love for something with time?

Sometimes but not always.

It's all in the nuance, I guess. Mine, what I bring to the show, my willingness to understand its origin and forgive it its sins, but also the show's nuance and its execution of story.

(source)

[thatdammchickennugget]

A Bit Mad

pairing -newt x fem!reader

summary - you were just looking for aris. you really weren't planning on falling on some cute british guy. or on breaking out of WCKD at his side.

warnings - kinda sarcastic!reader, cursing, lots of running and chasing, guns

a/n - somehow the little blurb idea I had about reader falling onto newt from the vents turned into this thing, so I guess I'm doing the whole scorch trials now?

wordcount - 6k

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was that Aris was gone.

The vent above his bunk was wide open, the metal grate barely hanging on, swinging slightly as if mocking you.

You groaned, running a hand down your face. “Seriously?”

You weren’t surprised. Annoyed? Yes. Surprised? Not even a little. This wasn’t the first time Aris had taken it upon himself to go sneaking around, and if you had to guess, it wouldn’t be the last.

Still, he could’ve at least woken you up first. You would have gone with him. You always did.

Swinging your legs over the side of your bed, you sighed and stretched. The facility was dead silent, the only sound being the faint hum of the dim overhead lights and the occasional creak echoing through the vent shaft.

You glanced at the opening again, debating.

Go back to sleep and let the dumbass get himself into whatever ridiculous mess he was about to stumble into?

Or…

You exhaled.

“Dammit, Aris.”

Climbing onto his bed, you grabbed the edge of the vent and hoisted yourself up. It was a tight fit, but not unbearable. By now you had spent enough time in small spaces that it didn’t bother you anymore.

You started forward, moving on your hands and knees, the metal creaking softly beneath you.

And that was when everything went wrong.

One second, you were crawling over a vent opening—another room’s, from the looks of it. The next, the panel gave out, and suddenly you were falling.

There was a muffled oof beneath you as you landed, and before you could process what just happened, you realized—

You had landed on someone.

A very solid, very warm someone.

Your brain barely had time to catch up before the person beneath you let out a sharp breath.

“What the bloody—”

You jerked upright—well, as upright as you could manage while straddling a very confused blond boy and trying not to hit your head on the still swinging vent cover above you.

The low light in the room was just enough for you to make out his wide, startled eyes. His face was barely a few inches from yours, and even in the dark, you could see the way his ears were turning red.

Oh.

Well, this was…awkward.

You opened your mouth to say something—anything—when he suddenly made a strangled noise, hands hovering awkwardly in the air, as if unsure whether to push you off or just accept his fate.

“I—” he stammered, blinking rapidly. “Did you—did you just fall from the vent?”

You huffed, still recovering from your own shock. “No, I meant to drop in unannounced.”

The boy blinked again. Then, to your complete and utter disbelief, he laughed.

It was quiet, barely more than a breath, but it was there.

“I—” he exhaled, shaking his head as if trying to wake himself up from a particularly strange dream. “Well, that’s one way to meet someone.”

It was then that you realized neither of you had moved.

You were still on top of him.

You inhaled sharply and scrambled off him to the foot of the bed, your entire body now alight with embarrassment.

“Sorry,” you muttered quickly, not quite sure what to do with yourself.

“No, no, you’re good,” the boy said, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head. His hair was a mess from sleep, but somehow, that only made him look even more unfairly attractive.

He looked up at you again, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “So…who are you, exactly? And why are you falling from the ceiling?”

You hesitated. “I, uh—I was looking for someone.”

His brows rose. “In the vents?”

“Yes,” you deadpanned. “Because that’s the logical place to look for someone.”

Another chuckle. “Right. And who, exactly, were you looking for?”

“My friend. Aris.”

He tilted his head slightly, considering the name. “And you thought you’d find them in here?”

You shrugged. “Well not specifically here in this room. Falling on you wasn’t exactly my plan. I don’t know where he went. But sneaking off is kind of his thing, and usually, I go with him, so…” You gestured vaguely to the open vent above you. “I went looking.”

Newt hummed, eyes flicking toward the ceiling. “In the middle of the night?”

“Yes,” you said, dead serious. “Because that’s the best time for a casual vent stroll.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “You’re a bit mad, aren’t you?”

“I fell through a vent and landed on you. I think we established that already.”

Newt exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, guess we did.”

Another silence settled between you, and for the first time since you dropped in—literally—you let yourself take in your surroundings. The room looked exactly like yours, filled with several bunks. The only difference being that almost each of the bunks was occupied by sleeping figures. It smelled faintly of sweat and metal—nothing surprising, considering the circumstances.

These had to be the new arrivals. You’d heard about them earlier in the day but hadn’t paid them much mind. You and Aris kept to yourselves for the most part, sticking to what little familiarity you had left.

But now you were here, in a room full of strangers, talking to one of them like this was a completely normal way to meet someone.

Newt shifted slightly, drawing your attention back to him. His expression had softened a little, his curiosity still apparent. “So… you’re from another group, then?”

“Yeah.”

“And how long have you been here?”

You hesitated. “Long enough.”

Newt’s gaze lingered on yours for a beat longer than expected, like he wanted to press for more but decided against it.

Instead, he pushed himself up into a sitting position and leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. “And this is your thing, then?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Dropping in on poor blokes unannounced.”

You rolled your eyes. “No. Just thought I’d give it a try tonight.”

“Well, lucky me, then,” he said, another quiet laugh pushing past his lips.

You huffed, shaking your head, but before you could say anything else, a muffled groan came from one of the other bunks, and you both froze.

Newt’s head snapped toward the noise, his entire body going still. A boy shifted slightly in his sleep, then fell silent again.

Still, it was a reminder—you weren’t supposed to be here.

You exhaled. “Alright, well, this has been great. Truly. But I should probably get going before someone else wakes up and thinks I’m trying to murder you or something.”

Newt turned back to you, one brow raised. “And how exactly do you plan on leaving?”

You pointed up. He followed your gaze to the still-open vent.

Then, with something close to amusement, he looked back at you. “You’re joking.”

You sighed. “No, I’m not joking. That’s how I got in, so that’s how I’m getting out.”

Newt blinked at you. “You do realize you just fell through the bloody thing, right?”

“Yes,” you said flatly. “And now I’m going back up. Hopefully without the falling part this time.”

He let out an incredulous laugh, rubbing a hand down his face. “You really are mad, I swear.”

“Maybe.” You adjusted your position on the bed, glancing at the headboard. “Now, if you could just—”

Before you could even finish, Newt sighed and got on his knees. “Yeah, yeah. Here.”

He shuffled closer and, hesitantly, placed a steadying hand on your waist as you climbed up. You ignored the way your breath hitched slightly at the contact, focusing instead on gripping the vent’s edge and hoisting yourself up.

With a little effort, you managed to wriggle back into the cramped space, your elbows scraping against the cool metal.

Once you were secure, you glanced down at him.

Newt was still looking up at you, arms crossed, head tilted.

“Well,” he said, smirking slightly. “Try not to drop in again, yeah?”

You narrowed your eyes. “No promises.”

He huffed, shaking his head but you caught the smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You started crawling forward but hesitated just before disappearing from view. Something about him stuck with you—maybe the sarcasm, maybe the fact that at first, he seemed almost more embarrassed about the whole situation than you were.

Or maybe it was just the way he looked at you, like he was already trying to figure you out.

Either way, you had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time you saw him.

.・。.・゜✭・.

The cafeteria was buzzing with quiet conversation, the dull clatter of trays and silverware filling the space as the Gladers sat at their table.

Newt wasn’t eating much—none of them were, really. Something about this place still felt…off.

Jansen stood at the front of the room, calling out names, escorting kids through those large metal doors, promising them safety.

No matter how much he wanted to and tried to push that nagging feeling away, Newt didn’t fully trust him.

And neither did Thomas, apparently.

“I know exactly what we saw.,” Thomas muttered, leaning in closer.

Newt shot him a look. “I thought we agreed to keep this low, Thomas.”

Thomas ignored him. “I’m telling you, something’s wrong. There were bodies—”

“Alright, alright,” Minho hissed, cutting him off. He glanced around, making sure no one was listening. “You really think talking about this here is a good idea?”

Thomas exhaled sharply, lowering his voice further. “I’m just saying, something is wrong. We need to get out of here.”

Newt sighed, rubbing his temples.

Frypan frowned, shifting in his seat. “Wait, back up. You said we. Who the hell did you go sneaking around with?”

Thomas glanced over at another table. “Aris.”

Newt, who had been taking a sip of water, nearly choked. He coughed, setting his cup down with a clatter as his brain caught up.

My friend. Aris.

He snapped his head up, following Thomas’ gaze as he pointed the boy out across the cafeteria.

And there you were. Sitting beside Aris, picking at your food, looking completely unbothered. And then, as if you could feel him staring, you turned.

Your eyes met his, and for a second, Newt just…froze.

Then, to his complete disbelief—

You smiled. And waved.

Minho, who had definitely not missed any of that, smirked. “Uh…what the shuck was that?”

Newt blinked, still caught somewhere between confusion and disbelief. “What?”

“That,” Frypan said, pointing between you and Newt. “Why is some random girl over there smiling at you like she knows you?”

Newt felt warmth creeping up his neck, the tips of his ears surely burning by now. He scrambled for a response, but all that came out was a useless, “I—she—”

Minho leaned in, eyes glinting with amusement. “You already got a girlfriend we don’t know about, Newt?”

Newt scowled, willing his heartbeat to slow. “Don’t be stupid.”

Frypan raised an eyebrow. “She seemed pretty happy to see you. You sure you don’t know her?”

Newt opened his mouth, then closed it. Technically, know was a strong word. He’d met you—though in the strangest, most unfortunate way possible.

His silence only made things worse. Minho grinned, leaning back in his chair with an all-too-pleased expression. “Huh. Interesting.”

Newt groaned. “Look, she—” He cut himself off, shook his head. There was no way he was going to explain that story. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It kinda does,” Minho teased. “Because now I wanna know why some girl we’ve never seen before is all smiley at your sorry face.”

Newt gritted his teeth, forcing himself to not look in your direction again. “Okay. But back to what Thomas was talking about.” He exhaled, trying to get the conversation back on track. “Until we know anything for certain, we should just keep our heads down and try not to draw any attention to ourselves, alright?”

And of course, just as he finished that sentence—

Thomas pushed back from the table and stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.

Newt frowned. “What is he doing?”

Minho didn’t even hesitate. “I think he’s drawing attention to himself.”

Newt exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face as Thomas stormed off.

Brilliant. Just bloody brilliant.

.・。.・゜✭・.

They were thrown back into the room, the heavy metal door slamming shut behind them.

Newt barely had time to turn before he rounded on Thomas. “What the hell was that about?” His voice was low, sharp. Thomas exhaled, still visibly tense. “You don’t really think they were just going to let you through?”

“No, of course I didn’t.” Thomas shook his head, jaw tight. “I’m going to find out what’s on the other side of that door.”

Newt let out a humorless laugh. “Alright.”

“Newt, they’re hiding something. Okay, these people are not who they say they are.”

“No, Thomas, you don’t know that.” Newt took a step closer, frustration bleeding into his tone. “The only thing we do know is that they helped rescue us from WCKD. They gave us new clothes, they gave us food, they gave us a proper bed.” His voice dipped slightly, quieter now. “Some of us haven’t had that in a long time.”

Thomas opened his mouth, trying to get a word in. “Yeah, but you—”

Newt cut him off, voice thick with something unreadable. “Some of us a lot longer than others.”

Before the tension could thicken further, there was a sharp metallic creak above them. The vent cover flew open.

Newt barely had time to step back before a figure dropped down into the room.

Aris.

“Hey, Thomas,” he said, straightening up as if he hadn’t just appeared out of nowhere.

Newt blinked, then scoffed. “What the…”

Aris ignored him, turning to Thomas. “You get it, right?”

Thomas didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, let’s go.” He turned to Newt and the others. “Alright, look—maybe you guys are right. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. But I gotta find out for sure. Just cover for me. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Before anyone could argue, Thomas climbed up into the vent after Aris. And before Newt could even begin to process what had just happened—

Another figure appeared at the vent opening.

You.

Newt stiffened. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

You offered the group of boys a bright smile, trying not to laugh at their confused faces as they stared up at you, then glanced back at Newt, a small smirk pulling at your lips.

“Sorry, not dropping in this time. I’d tell you not to miss me too much, but we both know that’s going to be difficult,” you teased before vanishing into the shaft after Thomas and Aris.

Newt just stood there. Still. Silent. His brain was short-circuiting.

Frypan, clapped him on his shoulder and snorted. “Yeah. No way you’re living this down.”

Newt groaned, dragging a hand down his face. He was so done with this night.

.・。.・゜✭・.

The vent cover slammed open, and three figures dropped down into the room in quick succession. Thomas hit the ground first, his breathing ragged, panic evident in his every move. Aris followed, looking shaken. You were last, landing lightly but with a tense expression.

Newt immediately stood from where he had been sitting, brows furrowing. “Thomas!”

“We got to go.” Thomas barely looked at him as he rushed toward one of the beds, yanking a blanket off in one swift motion.

Minho frowned. “What’s up?”

“We got to go. Right now!” Thomas’ voice was urgent, frantic. He yanked the blanket tight and dragged it toward the door.

Newt stepped forward. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“What do you mean we got to go?” Frypan added, looking from Thomas to Aris to you.

Thomas didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed Newt’s arm, tugging him toward the door. “They’re coming. Come on, we got to go.”

Newt pulled his arm free, frustrated. “Thomas, just slow down and—”

“They’re coming for us!” Thomas cut him off, looping the sheet around the door handles and pulling it tight.

Newt exchanged a tense glance with the others before turning to Aris. “What happened out there?”

Aris just shook his head, not even sure where to start.

Minho looked at Thomas. “Can you just calm down and talk to us?”

Thomas exhaled sharply, hands shaking as he turned back to them. Finally, his eyes met Newt’s.

“She’s still alive.”

“Teresa?” Newt asked, though something told him that wasn’t it.

Thomas shook his head. His next words were barely above a whisper.

“Ava.”

The room went silent.

Newt stared at him, unblinking. “Ava?”

Minho took a step closer. “Would you just turn around and talk to us?”

Thomas swallowed hard, his voice tight with barely contained frustration. “It’s WCKD. It’s still WCKD. It’s always been WCKD.”

Newt felt the weight of those words settle over all of them.

“Thomas.” His voice was low now, steady despite the anxiety clawing at his chest. “What did you see?”

Thomas shook his head again, not answering.

Then—

A distant click. A shadow shifting under the door.

Thomas’s head snapped up, and just like that—

“Come on, come on, come on,” he whispered, already moving toward the vent.

No one argued.

Minho climbed up first, pulling himself inside before reaching back for the next person. Frypan followed, muttering curses under his breath. Then you went, moving quickly through the tight space. Aris was right behind you, already scrambling forward.

Newt was the last to go. He hesitated, looking back once—at the room, at the door, at the supposed safety they had been given.

Then, he turned, grabbed the edge of the vent, and pulled himself inside.

.・。.・゜✭・.

The group dropped down one by one from the vent into a dimly lit hallway, landing as quietly as they could manage. Thomas was the first to go, crouching as he scanned the area before motioning the others down.

“Alright, come on, come on!” he urged in a hushed voice, hurrying them along.

Just as they started moving, Aris hesitated, then took a step in the opposite direction. “You guys go ahead,” he said, glancing down the hall. “There’s something I need to do.”

Thomas frowned, stepping toward him. “What are you talking about?”

You looked at Aris, alarmed. He couldn’t just run off alone—not now.

“Trust me,” Aris insisted. “It’s important. You guys wanna get out of here, right? Just go!”

Winston glanced at Thomas, then back at Aris. “I’ll go with him.”

You opened your mouth to protest, ready to go with Aris too, but he turned to you before you could.

“Stick with them,” he said, voice firm but not unkind. “I’ll be fine.”

You didn’t like it. Not one bit. But after a brief pause, you gave a reluctant nod, stepping back as Aris and Winston turned and disappeared down the hallway.

No time to dwell on it. Thomas ushered the rest of you forward, and you ran. Rounding a corner at full speed, you almost crashed into a woman in a lab coat. She stopped short, eyes wide.

“What are you kids doing out?” she demanded.

None of you answered. No one had time to come up with an excuse, because before you could so much as open your mouth—

The alarms blared.

The piercing sound shot through the halls like a siren of impending doom.

Without thinking, you lunged forward, grabbing the doctor by the arm. She let out a startled noise, but Thomas was right there with you, helping you pull her along as the rest of the group took off running.

You weaved through corridors, feet pounding against the floor. Every turn looked the same, but there was no time to think, just run.

Then you rounded another corner—

And froze.

A soldier stood at the far end of the hallway, gun already raised.

“Freeze!” he barked. “Stay where you are!”

The click of the trigger sent adrenaline surging through your veins. Then—gunfire.

You barely had time to react before someone grabbed you, yanking you behind the wall just as bullets struck the floor where you had been standing. You stumbled but felt Newt’s hands steadying you before he pushed you back, shielding you as the group ducked for cover.

“Go, go, go!” Thomas hissed.

Everyone turned to run back the way they came—except Minho.

He stopped short, glancing between the corner and the rest of you.

“Minho!” Newt snapped.

But the boy had already made up his mind.

Without a second thought, he pivoted, sprinted straight for the corner—and launched himself at the soldier. His foot connected solidly with the man’s chest, sending him flying back onto the floor with a stunned grunt.

You gawked.

“That was awesome!” you blurted out, breathless.

“Shit, Minho,” Newt muttered, half impressed, half exasperated.

Thomas didn’t waste time. He rushed forward, grabbing the soldier’s gun before looking back at all of you. “Come on, let’s go!”

.・。.・゜✭・.

Reaching a room with several scientists inside, you barely had time to catch your breath before Thomas grabbed the doctor and shoved her forward.

“Open it,” he ordered, voice low but urgent.

The woman hesitated but had no choice, pressing her ID to the scanner. The door slid open.

“Dr. Crawford, are you here to—”

The scientist’s words died in his throat as Thomas shoved the doctor the rest of the way in, barging in after her with the gun raised.

“Where is she?” Thomas demanded, his voice sharp, desperate. “Where is she?!”

The scientists all flinched, hands half-raised in surrender, but none of them answered fast enough.

Your eyes darted around the room before landing on something in the corner—movement behind a curtain.

“Thomas!” you called, motioning toward it.

Thomas’s gaze snapped to you before following where you were pointing. Without hesitation, he thrust the gun into Minho’s hands and ran toward the curtain. You watched as he yanked it open, revealing a girl lying on a hospital bed, looking pale but slowly waking up.

“Teresa,” Thomas breathed, stepping closer and touching her shoulder gently. “Come on, we need to go.”

While he focused on her, Minho turned his glare back on the scientists, keeping the gun trained on them.

“Get down. All of you,” he ordered.

As they hesitantly obeyed, you and Newt wasted no time. You lunged for a nearby supply cart, grabbing some bandages while Newt stepped in front of one of the scientists.

“Hands out,” he said, voice firm.

The scientist hesitated, but when you shot him a glare and held up the makeshift restraints, he complied. You quickly tied his wrists, moving to the next one as Newt did the same.

“Guys!” Frypan’s voice rang out from the doorway, panicked. “They’re coming! Where do we go?”

Your heart lurched.

Newt sprang into action. “Fry, move!”

He shoved a heavy lab table forward, slamming it against the door just as the first impact hit from the other side. Soldiers were ramming into it, trying to break through.

Minho cursed, yanking you and Newt back behind him as he aimed the gun at the door.

“Alright, we gotta get out of here!” he barked.

Your eyes darted around, heart pounding. There had to be another way—

Then you spotted it. The glass separating this room from the next.

Without thinking, you grabbed a chair. “Stand back!” you shouted before hurling it at the glass. It hit with a loud thud but didn’t break.

Newt caught on immediately. He rushed to your side, grabbed another chair, and together, you slammed them into the glass again.

Crack.

A spiderweb of fractures spread across the surface.

Once more and it shattered. The glass rained down in sharp shards, and you coughed as dust and particles filled the air.

“Go!” Thomas shouted. He was already helping Teresa toward the low divider.

Newt was the first to climb over. He turned, reaching back for you. You grabbed his hands, letting him pull you up and over before dropping down onto the other side.

One by one, the others followed.

Minho was last, tossing the gun back to Thomas before leaping over.

“Let’s go!” Thomas yelled. “Stay behind me!”

You sprinted after him, your breath ragged as you bolted into the next hallway. A soldier appeared right in front of you, raising his gun.

For a split second, your body froze in terror. But Thomas didn’t. Before the soldier could react, the boy pulled the trigger.

A bolt of electricity shot forward, striking the man. He convulsed violently, eyes wide with shock, before collapsing onto the floor, twitching.

Your breath caught, but there was no time to process it. Because at the end of the hall—

The exit.

“There it is!” Thomas shouted, his voice sharp.

You pushed yourself harder, legs burning as you sprinted toward it. Thomas reached the door first, yanking a stolen keycard from his pocket and swiping it against the panel.

Nothing.

He swiped it again.

Still nothing.

“Shit, come on! No, no, no, no!” he hissed, slamming his hand against the reader in frustration.

“Thomas,” a slow, deliberate voice cut through the panic.

You turned sharply at the sound of the familiar voice. Jansen.

He approached with a small army of soldiers at his back, their weapons already raised.

Thomas instinctively stepped in front of all of you, raising his gun and aiming it directly at Jansen’s head. You weren’t sure if the shake in his hands was from adrenaline or fear.

“Open the door, Jansen!” he barked.

Jansen’s expression didn’t shift. He just sighed, almost like he was disappointed. “You really don’t want me to.”

“Open the door!”

Jansen took another step forward, hands raised, like he was trying to calm a wild animal.

“Listen to me,” he continued, voice smooth, calculated. “I’m trying to save your life. The Maze was one thing, but you kids wouldn’t last a day out in the Scorch.”

Thomas’s grip on the gun tightened, but Jansen kept talking.

“If the elements don’t kill you, the Cranks will.” His voice dipped lower, gaze steady. “You have to believe me. I only want what’s best for you.”

A cold, sinking feeling settled in your stomach.

Thomas didn’t move. He just stared at Jansen, breathing hard. “Yeah, let me guess.” His voice dripped with bitterness. “WCKD is good?”

Jansen’s hands slowly dropped to his sides. There it was.

“You’re not getting through that door, Thomas,” he said, finality in his tone.

But then—

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The door’s keypad lit up. The locks disengaged. The heavy metal doors slid up, revealing two familiar faces waiting on the other side.

“Hey, guys,” Aris greeted, completely unfazed.

Frypan didn’t hesitate. “Come on!” He started ushering everyone through.

Newt didn’t hesitate to push you through, turning back to look at his friend. “Thomas, let’s go!”

But Thomas wasn’t done.

Without warning, he pulled the trigger, firing at the soldiers. You flinched at the deafening shots.

Click. The gun was empty.

“Shuck,” Thomas muttered before throwing the weapon to the ground and spinning on his heel, sprinting for the door.

It was already sliding shut again.

He wasn’t going to make it.

“Thomas!” you shouted along with the others.

At the last second, he dived forward, throwing himself into a slide. His body barely cleared the gap before the doors slammed shut with a heavy clang.

Minho and Newt reached down and grabbed his arm, helping haul him up alongside the others.

Heart still racing, you spotted a loose piece of metal on the ground. Without thinking, you snatched it up and swung, slamming it into the door’s keypad as hard as you could. Sparks flew. The screen flickered, then went dark.

Minho didn’t waste a second, grabbing a new weapon from a fallen soldier before turning to the rest of you.

“Let’s go!”

No one argued. With no time to catch your breath, you ran—out into the Scorch.

.・。.・゜✭・.

The air inside the abandoned building was stale, filled with dust and the lingering scent of decay. The storm outside still howled, wind rattling the shattered windows above, but at least in here, you were safe. For now.

You slung the backpack over one shoulder, stuffing more clothing inside as you wandered through the almost empty aisles. Most of the shelves had been picked clean, but you still managed to find a few useful things—jackets, gloves, even a somewhat clean looking water canteen.

As you rounded a corner, you nearly collided with someone.

Newt.

He had also changed into something more practical—a long-sleeved shirt with a thick, brown jacket over it. The sleeves were slightly too long, the collar a bit worn, but—

“Well, don’t you look dashing,” you teased, smirking as you leaned against the nearby counter.

Newt scoffed, but you didn’t miss the way his ears tinged pink. “Oh, shut up.”

You grinned. “No, really. Very rugged. Very—‘wandering lost soul in a post-apocalyptic wasteland’.”

That got a laugh out of him. He shook his head, rummaging through a pile of abandoned clothes. “Glad to know I’ve got a look going.”

“You should own it,” you replied, picking up a couple more items and shoving them into your bag. “Who knows, maybe we’ll run into some civilization, and you’ll charm them with your very fashionable dirt-and-despair aesthetic.”

Newt gave you a flat look. “You done?”

You hummed, pretending to think about it. “Yeah, I think so.”

As you continued your search, something caught your eye—a bundle of fabric buried under a pile of clothes. You pulled it free and unrolled it.

Bandanas.

A small smirk tugged at your lips as you turned to Newt and tossed one at him. He caught it with a frown, holding it up like it was some foreign object.

“What exactly do you expect me to do with this?” he asked.

You raised an eyebrow. “You do know how sand works, right?”

Newt blinked. “I—”

You gestured vaguely. “Wind blows, sand flies, it gets in your eyes, your nose, your mouth. That?” You pointed at the bandana in his hand. “Could help with that.”

Realization dawned, and he nodded slowly. “Ah. Right. Good thinking.”

He unfolded the fabric and awkwardly tied it around his face, covering his nose and mouth. When he turned back to you, standing there with only his eyes visible, you couldn't help it. You laughed.

“What?” he asked, voice slightly muffled.

“You look like you’re about to rob the place.”

Newt rolled his eyes and pulled the bandana down around his neck. “Well, if we’re going for the whole bandit thing, might as well go all in.”

You grinned. “Exactly. Now all you need is a cowboy hat and a dramatic backstory.”

Newt smirked, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you’re still standing here talking to me,” you shot back.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, clearly having no good comeback. With a small chuckle, he grabbed a few more supplies and stuffed them into his own bag.

“Well,” he said, slinging the strap over his shoulder, “come on then, partner. Let’s see what else we can find before the others start wondering where we are.”

You grinned, adjusting your backpack. “After you, Sheriff.”

The two of you made your way back toward the others, weaving through darkened aisles and abandoned debris. When you reached the main floor of the building, you saw Frypan and Teresa rummaging through shelves, while Aris and Winston inspected a pile of canned goods they must have scrounged up.

"Find anything good?" Frypan asked, glancing up.

"Some clothes, a few supplies," you answered, patting your backpack.

Newt shrugged. "Could be worse."

You glanced around, realizing two people were still missing. "Where's Minho and Thomas?"

Teresa shook her head. "Not back yet."

As if on cue, the overhead lights suddenly flickered to life, buzzing loudly as they illuminated the vast, abandoned space. Everyone froze, glancing up in confusion.

"Did… did the power just turn on?" Aris murmured.

Before anyone could answer, the distant sound of pounding footsteps reached your ears—fast, frantic.

"RUN!"

Minho's voice.

You all turned just in time to see Minho and Thomas sprinting toward you at full speed, panic etched on their faces.

"What the hell—" Newt started, but then you saw it. A horde of them.

Pale, twitching figures, moving unnaturally fast, their limbs jerking as they scrambled over debris in pursuit of your friends. Bloodied, mindless, and fast.

Cranks.

"GO, GO!" Thomas shouted, pushing Minho forward as they barreled toward the group.

No one needed to be told twice. You all bolted, adrenaline flooding your veins as your feet pounded against the dusty floor.

The creatures shrieked, the sound sending ice through your spine.

Your breath came fast as you ran, weaving around overturned shelves, your backpack bouncing against your back. Newt was right beside you, limping but hot on your heels, his expression tense.

"They’re too bloody fast!" he shouted.

"Just keep moving!" you yelled back.

The group was ahead, dodging through broken glass and shattered displays, but the Cranks were gaining. You could feel them behind you, hear their gasping, ragged breaths.

Suddenly, Newt let out a strangled yell as something tackled him from the side.

Your heart lurched. "Newt!"

You skidded to a stop, spinning around as the Crank snarled and clawed at him, its grotesque, decayed face just inches from his own.

Without thinking, you kicked it hard in the side, sending it tumbling off of him. Newt scrambled back, gasping, as you grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet.

"Come on!" you urged.

But the delay had cost you both.

The others had already disappeared through a side exit, their shouts fading into the distance. You and Newt turned just in time to see another wave of Cranks pouring into the building, blocking your path to the rest of the group.

Shit.

"This way!" Newt grabbed your wrist, yanking you toward a different direction.

The two of you ran blindly, dodging fallen beams and overturned shelves, Cranks hot on your heels. Your lungs burned, your muscles screamed, but you couldn’t stop.

Up ahead, the building's shattered front wall revealed the desert beyond—endless sand dunes stretching beneath the darkening sky.

"Through there!" you panted.

Newt nodded, and together, you pushed forward, bursting through a broken doorway and stumbling into the open. The wind hit you immediately, thick with dust, the remains of the storm still raging in the distance.

"Over there!" Newt pointed to a massive, half-buried metal structure jutting out of the sand. It looked like a collapsed billboard or maybe a piece of an old building.

The two of you sprinted for it, the Cranks still close behind.

You threw yourself under the metal at the same time as Newt, hitting the ground hard and rolling onto your side. He landed next to you, both of you gasping for air.

The creatures shrieked, but they didn’t follow you into the sand. Instead, they stopped just outside the ruins, their twitching forms silhouetted against the dim light. They paced and snarled but didn’t step further.

Newt exhaled shakily, his forehead resting against his knees. "Bloody hell."

You let out a weak, breathless laugh. "Yeah. No kidding."

For a moment, you both just sat there, catching your breath, staring out at the wasteland stretching before you.

Separated from the others. Stranded in the middle of the Scorch. With no idea where to go next.

Masterlist

Requesting Guidelines

[monktwo]

Part 4 in the Missing piece series

Morning

You woke slowly, floating up from a dream you couldn’t quite remember.

The first thing you noticed was warmth, someone solid under you. The second was the smell of clean skin, something faintly like lavender. The third was the slow, steady rise and fall of breathing under your cheek.

You blinked blearily and realized you were curled into Ingrid, tucked into the crook of her neck, your arm wrapped around her waist like a koala bear.

You sighed contentedly and nuzzled closer.

Ingrid stirred, groaning softly.

You squeezed her tighter instinctively.

“Nooo,” you mumbled.

Ingrid laughed under her breath, brushing hair gently out of your face.

“You’re cute,” she said, voice thick with sleep. “But I need coffee.”

You clung harder, making a soft noise of protest.

Mapi’s voice mumbled from somewhere to the side:

“You’re doomed, Engen. Accept it.”

Ingrid sighed dramatically.

“New plan,” she muttered.

She shifted, carefully rolling you over and depositing you — whining softly — onto Mapi’s shoulder.

You automatically burrowed into Mapi’s warmth, sighing happily.

Mapi draped an arm lazily over you, half-asleep herself.

“Problem solved,” Ingrid whispered, disappearing toward the bathroom.

Eventually, after a lot of stretching and yawning and groaning, the three of you managed to get dressed and head down to breakfast.

The buffet was already half-cleared — players dotted the room looking half-dead, clutching coffee like lifelines.

You grabbed a plate and made a beeline for the food. Eggs. Bacon. Toast. Cheese. Pastries. Heaven.

While you loaded your plate, you found yourself chatting with Vicky, Jana, and Salma — the younger cluster of players, still full of chaotic energy despite yesterday’s match.

You laughed along with them, swapping stories about the game, about stupid tackles and the worst cramps ever.

It was easy.

Natural.

Harmless.

You carried your mountain of food back to your table, still chuckling.

But the second you slid into your seat, you felt it, a shift, something was just a smudge off.

Ingrid watched you carefully, her fingers drumming lightly against her coffee cup. “You looked cozy,” she said casually.

You blinked, confused.

“What?”

“Talking. Laughing. Getting real close,” Ingrid said, tilting her head slightly.

You frowned.

“I was just talking,” you said slowly.

Mapi leaned back in her chair, clearly amused, letting the tension crackle between you and Ingrid.

You set your fork down.

“Why are you mad at me?” you asked, voice quieter now, confused and a little hurt.

“I’m not mad,” Ingrid said quickly shaking her head.

“I just—”

She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face.

“You looked… happy. With them. And I guess it got to me.”

You stared at her — heart stuttering — as realization clicked slowly into place.

Oh.

She was jealous and a hint of territorial.

“I wasn’t flirting,” you said again, softer now.

“I don’t even know how.”

Ingrid’s face softened immediately.

She reached across the table, squeezing your hand briefly.

“I believe you,” she said. “Sorry.”

You smiled back, feeling the tension between you ease into nothing.

You dug back into your plate, causing Mapi to snorted quietly.

“You missed something? ” she asked teasingly.

You blinked and looked down, realizing your plate was a mountain of bacon, bread, eggs and dessert… and not a single piece of fruit or vegetable.

You shrugged unapologetically.

“Fruit’s boring,” you said. “Bacon, eggs, and cake are better.”

Ingrid shook her head fondly and got up without a word.

Two minutes later, she was back, setting a plate of brightly colored fruit next to your elbow.

“Eat it,” she said firmly.

You whined, poking at it.

“But it’s not bacon.”

“Eat it anyway,” Ingrid said, fighting a smile.

You grabbed a slice of melon reluctantly and shoved it into your mouth, making a show of suffering.

Mapi threw her arm dramatically over your shoulders.

“Our growing girl,” she declared, and you laughed so hard you almost choked on your juice.

The room around you felt warm, safe — even with a few curious glances from other players that you chose to ignore.

You were still polishing off your plate — eyeing the pastries again — when you felt a new presence near your table.

You looked up and immediately stiffened.

Pere Romeu, Barcelona’s head coach, stood there, hands tucked casually in his jacket pockets, face polite but unreadable.

You shifted instinctively closer to Ingrid and Mapi, your fingers tightening slightly on your napkin.

“Could I borrow you for a moment?” Pere asked.

You hesitated.

Everything in you wanted to stay.

You glanced quickly at Ingrid, who gave you the tiniest encouraging nod.

Reluctantly, you pushed back your chair and stood, following Pere a few steps away from the table.

He led you into the hallway just outside the breakfast room.

You folded your arms loosely, nerves prickling under your skin.

Pere offered a small smile. “Relax,” he said lightly. “You’re not in trouble.”

You didn’t move.

“…Then what is this about?” you asked cautiously, voice low.

Pere smiled again, a little wider this time.

“I want to set up a conversation. About your future.”

You blinked, thrown completely off balance.

He pulled a small card from his pocket with his name, number, and email on it and held it out.

“Have your agent reach out,” he said simply. “We’ll schedule a real talk.”

You stared at him, frozen for a beat.

“I don’t have an agent,” you blurted out.

Pere raised an eyebrow, amused.

You fumbled, cheeks heating.

“I guess… my mamma can be my agent?”

Pere chuckled, nodding approvingly.

“Family works.”

He pressed the card into your hand, then turned, casual and unhurried, walking back into the breakfast room.

Keep reading

[tadpolecollin]

Kurt Wagner x gn!reader

Summary: you're new to the X-men and very nervous, but Kurt makes you feel more at home

Finding Home

It had been a whirlwind of confusion, fear, and hope since you discovered you were a mutant. Everything had changed in an instant, and the world felt foreign, uncertain, and overwhelming. But there was one place that seemed to offer a flicker of warmth—an enormous mansion with walls full of people like you. The X-Mansion.

You were standing in the hallway, your heart racing, unsure where to go or what to do next. Everyone had been kind, but you still felt like an outsider, lost in the chaos of it all. The sounds of people talking and doors opening and closing echoed around you, and you couldn’t help but feel small in this strange, new world.

A soft *bamf* broke through the noise, and before you could turn, there he was—Kurt Wagner. He appeared out of nowhere, his body shimmering with the faintest hint of smoke. A tall figure with blue fur, a pointed tail, and ears that twitched as they listened intently. His smile was warm and genuine, lighting up his face in a way that made you feel a little lighter inside.

“Hallo!” Kurt said, his voice friendly, with a thick German accent that made his words sound like music. “You are the new one, ja?”

You blinked, a little caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the man. “Uh, yeah. I’m still getting used to everything here.”

Kurt’s yellow eyes softened with understanding. “Ach, I know how that feels. When I first arrived, everything was so foreign and it made me very nervous, much like you. But in time, I realized this place is... unsere Familie—our family. You will find your place here. Ganz sicher.”

You felt a wave of warmth at his words, but the doubt still lingered in the back of your mind. “I don’t really know where to start,” you admitted, your voice quiet. “Everything’s so... different.”

Kurt chuckled lightly, his tail swaying behind him as he stepped a little closer. “*Kein Problem*, no problem at all.” He extended his hand, and you hesitated for only a moment before taking it. His grip was firm but gentle. “When I first arrived, I didn’t know where to go, either. But I learned quickly that this place is a little like a *Dschungel*—a jungle. But it’s not a scary one. It’s full of life and Abenteuer. And most importantly, it is full of people who understand. You will find your way, just like I did.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the analogy. A jungle, huh? Maybe that wasn’t such a bad way to think about it. “I guess that makes sense.”

Kurt’s tail flicked with a lighthearted thwap against the floor as he leaned in slightly, his smile widening. “And if you ever get lost in the jungle, I’m always here. You don’t have to go it alone. We are all here for each other. I will help you.”

You nodded, a small but genuine smile starting to tug at your lips. His energy, despite how strange he must have appeared to you at first, was oddly comforting. The way he spoke with such certainty, with such kindness, made you feel as though you might just be able to make it here after all.

“Thank you, Kurt,” you said quietly, finally feeling something like peace settling into your chest. “It means a lot to hear that.”

“Natürlich,” he said, his tail flicking once again. “It is nothing. We look out for one another. I know that feeling of being new, of feeling anders. But that is not a bad thing. You are who you are, and that is something to be proud of.”

You felt your heart soften at his words. “It’s just... hard, sometimes. You know? It’s hard to accept this part of me.”

Kurt’s expression shifted to one of empathy, his head tilting slightly to one side. “Ich verstehe. I understand completely. It is not easy to embrace what makes us different. But you will see, here, there is nothing to fear. Everyone has their own... unique gift, and here, we learn to embrace that. For me, it was teleporting around and being a bit bluewhen I first arrived. It took time for me to see it as something good.”

He leaned in slightly, his yellow eyes bright with mischief. “And besides, you won’t find anyone else here like me. Wirklich.”

You let out a soft laugh, the tension in your shoulders finally starting to ease. "I don't think I’ve met anyone like you either."

Kurt gave a dramatic bow, his tail swishing behind him. "That is a good thing! And it will be the same with you. everyone here is different, and that is what makes us strong. You are not alone in this. We are all in this together.”

There was something in his words, something in the way he said them, that made the idea of fitting in feel possible. Maybe you didn’t have all the answers, but with people like Kurt around, maybe you didn’t need to have them right away.

Kurt stood up straighter, his expression turning more serious but still warm. “Let’s take a walk. I will show you the garden. It’s a quiet place, and sometimes, die Stille is the best way to think.”

You nodded, following him as he led the way, his presence like a calming force. It didn’t feel as overwhelming now. The mansion didn’t feel so big and intimidating. With Kurt by your side, it was starting to feel a little more like home.

As the two of you walked, he continued to speak with ease, sharing little stories about the mansion and the people who lived in it. The more he spoke, the more you realized how genuine he was, how truly kind, and how welcome you felt in his presence. For the first time since you’d arrived, you began to feel that maybe—just maybe—this place, with all its differences, could become a new kind of home.

And as you listened to Kurt’s stories, filled with German phrases and laughter, you couldn’t help but believe that finding a family—one that accepted you for exactly who you were—wasn’t as impossible as it had seemed.

__

Two i a row :3 i had this one laying in my notes so here you go ^^

[ametistacollinsworld]

Rodger and the reader being tired friends getting research

Thank you for making a request! I hope you like it! <3

In your memory, you and Rodger could always be classified as good friends. With you always helping him with a case here and there or even just spending some time together, carefree, talking about something you liked.

Well, at least that's what you did before Gardenview closed for good. Rodger and you even tried to look for answers together, questioning Dandy and his suspicious actions regarding the whole situation and about the scary figures that imitated your friends, but to no avail.

Now all of you spent your days either in your room area, in the lobby or venturing through the floors that were now dangerous and full of those monsters.

═══════════════���══

You don't remember what time it was when Rodger knocked on your door, and on top of that in his pajamas and with a tired look, asking you to go on a research adventure together, which you just looked at him for a second, also still only in your pajamas before saying a simple:

"Why not? Let's go." You said before closing your door behind you and following him.

And here you two were now, going down another floor in the middle of the night. Have you lost count of how many floors you two had already passed, to be honest? You didn't want to think too much at the moment, to be honest.

Not even Dandy was in his usual place in his store, which, for the others, would be worrying, but you two didn't care at all, after all, you weren't planning on buying anything from him after all, so it was a win for everyone that he wasn't here.

You yawned, followed by Rodger, stretching and feeling small tears of sleep forming in the corners of your eyes, which you quickly wiped away. You were going to need a lot of (favorite drink) after this.

"Can you finally tell me why, you, in the middle of the night, wanted to come on a research quest?" You asked in a questioning tone, crossing your arms.

"I don't know. I guess I just needed to do something productive while I thought." Rodger answered in a calm tone, looking at you.

"And I needed to come along?" You asked slowly, giving him a fixed look.

"Well… no. If you refused, I would have come anyway, but I like your presence, so I thought I'd call you. I hope you're not mad about it." Rodger spoke in a calm but tired tone, giving you a soft look.

"Ugh… fine. You got me there! But I have a feeling you knew I would accept. Sometimes it really is a challenge to be your friend your crazy-cray." You spoke in a tired tone, giving him an amused smile, making him let out a small tired laugh.

"Maybe." Rodger spoke softly, giving you a smile.

══════════════════

The two of you had split up once more to complete the machines, with you going right while Rodger went left.

You were calmly turning the valve on your machine when suddenly you heard growls and quick footsteps behind you, turning to see a Rodger quickly running past you from a Twisted Astro who just ignored you, continuing to run after Rodger.

"Rodger, what the hell, is Astro already after you?? We've barely started this floor!" You exclaimed, giving a small groan, searching for something in your pocket to help him.

"I just turned into a hallway, and he appeared in front of me like a blood hungry monster! It's not my fault!" Rodger spoke quickly, running in circles around some bookshelves.

"Okay, I got it!" You exclaimed, running in front of him and throwing your smoke bomb in front of Twisted Astro, making the creature stop for a minute in confusion, giving you enough time to grab Rodger's hand and hide behind some boxes nearby.

After a few seconds, you heard the monster's figure let out a strange noise before hearing its footsteps moving away from your position. To which you and Rodger let out your respective sighs of relief.

"You owe me a batch of Sprout's cupcakes after this." You said, giving him an amused smile, which he rolled his eyes at, but gave a small smile.

You stood up, dusting off your pajamas and holding out your hand to him.

"Fine. I kind of deserve it." Rodger said, giving a soft, tired laugh before taking your hand and brushing off his own pajamas.

"Shall we go then?" You asked softly, giving him a small smile before once again extending your hand to him.

"Let's go." Rodger nodded softly before taking your hand in his, starting to walk slowly beside you, careful not to draw the attention of any more twisted.

[hazbinhazmeinachokehold]

The hotel gang + overlord!reader part 2

Part one here

!Not beta read!

While it may just be the stress talking, the bed was surprisingly comfortable, for a hotel at least. Today was a lot. Even if this hotel seemed to be a net positive it was still a lot. So the comfortable bed made it seem like you already made it to heaven. As you sank into the bed you drifted off to sleep.

You awoke to a few loud and powerful knocks on your door. "Hello? If you're awake we are going to do some trust exercises!" Charlie called out. You unintentionally groaned as you got up.

"Give me a minute!" You replied.

"Okay." Charlie said as she left. When you got up you looked at yourself in the mirror. You weren't a mess by any means but you've definitely looked better. You freshen yourself up slightly before going downstairs.

The Hotel residents and staff were all in a circle. You sat down in one of the gaps in the circle. Charlie cleared her throat.

"Okay everybody let's go around in a circle and say our names first! I'm Charlie." She paused, "As you all know." Everyone else proceeded to say their name, which you already knew everyone's name. Excluding the short one-eyed girl, Niffty, and the girl with an x over one of her eyes, Vaggie. Then your turn came.

"Uh- Hi! My name is y/n" You cringed at the nervousness in your voice.

"Now I want everyone to tell a fact about themself. It doesn't have to be anything huge, just something to get to know each other." Charlie said, "I love musicals!" Yeah, that was pretty easy to guess.

Angel was next up. "I love sitting on big, HUGE-"

"Angel I fucking swear." Husk cut him off.

"Comfortable chairs! What were you thinking?" Angel had a smug smile plastered on his face. "Also cocks as well." He added. Husk and Vaggie groaned.

Niffty went next, but Charlie spoke before her, "Please try not to scare away our newest member." She pleaded. Niffty pouted but compiled anyway.

"I love writing fanfiction! Escapily with bad boys." Her tone turned slightly seductive at the end. You elected to ignore that.

There was a silence as everyone waited for Vaggie. Charlie stretched her palm out to tell her to talk. "Oh- yeah right sorry." She shook her head slightly, "I like to dance."

"Really!? How come I never knew that?" Charlie asked.

"It never came up." Vaggie smiled faintly

"I'm the bartender," Husk grumbled. Vaggie elbowed him. "What? I told a fact about myself."

Alastor let out an "ahem" noise. The focus shifted to him. "While this is a fact in general, I believe that radio is the utmost form of medium." As baseline as this was for a guy such as Alastor, you also kind of expected it. Alastor would not let anything deeper about himself slip. So why not go for the most well-known part of yourself. "Now, y/n, darling I do believe it is your turn."

Oh shit right. You've just met these people so don't go with anything personal. Also, make sure it doesn't make anyone uncomfortable. “I really don’t like being an overlord.” Your mouth moved before you could comprehend what you were saying. Well fuck. If this was a TV show you’d clearly be the comic relief, at least right now. Everyone but Alastor and Niffty had some form of uncomfortable plastered on their face. Alastor however had a curious yet sinister smile on his face. Niffty wasn’t really paying attention to you, she was chasing some random cockroach. 

You wanted to go back on that statement but something was saving you from embarrassing yourself further. Do demons have guardian angels? If so, yours was working overtime right now. But they also weren’t getting much work done.

Your real savior was whoever blew the fucking wall up. Everyone's head was quickly aimed at the now missing wall. While Husk just accepted it everyone else, including yourself, to find the source. Like you were in some sort of horror movie character getting ready to be stabbed. But you instead met with a huge mechanical blimp that had an impractical amount of guns.

“There you are!” The person in the blimp called out. It was very hard to hear but it was just loud enough. “Alastor, are you ready to be beat-”

“Who is this?’ 

“Who- Who am I!?” The voice was very clearly offended at Alastor's lack of knowledge. You just drowned the rest out. Alastor was cruel and frankly heartless. But he also did not like wasting time. So even while this poor sinner's fate was sealed, thankfully it wouldn’t be as drawn out as his past victims. You turned around to hopefully save any shred of innocence you were able to save. As you entered through the wall you could hear both Alastor and his victim speak.

“Thank you for another forgetful experience!” Alastor said. You didn’t necessarily

want to look but you did so anyway. Kind of like watching a car crash.

“Thank you…” the snake struggled to get out, “ For letting your guard down!” He ripped part of Alastors coat off. Well, that's not good, for anyone really. Alastor’s coat got torn and this sinner is about to die again. Or at the very least get seriously injured. You’re honestly surprised he lasted this long. He was notably weaker than The Radio Demon’s usual opponents. 

He, quite appropriately, said “Oh shit-” Before an explosion (you can only guess caused by Alastor) caused him to fly away. Welp, he’s gone forever now. The hotel seemed nice for the most part. It honestly still does. You just wish you weren’t staying in the same house as The Radio Demon. But now that you think about it, almost everyone here seems to have something severely wrong with them. And that includes you too. So at least you fit in.

[circle-of-mushrooms]

Mammon x autistic reader perhaps? 🥺

Mammon x Autistic Reader Headcanons a/n: autism is a spectrum and everyone is different, so i just based these off my own experiences and tried to keep things vague. but i love mammon and this was a great ask

♡ Mammon is an old, old man . . . He's been around for ages and while he stays on top of things to keep his products relevant, its likely he hasn't delved too deep into new research surrounding disorders. ↳ That said -- you probably have to be as patient with him as he has to be with you and be prepared to explain things several times to him. ♡ If you're super particular about something, there's no doubt that he's able to make sure everything is up to your standards. ↳ Imagine they changed the recipe to one of your favourite store-bought foods and while no one else can really taste the difference, you sure can, and it's effectively ruined your whole month. Boom. Mammon's got that company sitting in the palm of his hand and he's made them change it back to how it once was.

↳ If you prefer a certain texture/fabric for your bedsheets or clothing, he's making sure everything in your house is made out of it. Only if you please. His idea of love is making all your wants a reality. ♡ It's easily to be overstimulated in a circus.

↳ The first time you attended one of his shows, the crowds alone were overwhelming - but then the sickly sweet smells of stall food hit you, followed by the sound of repetitive horns honking and bells jingling. The popcorn was overly greasy for some reason, making your hands feel unpleasant and impossible to use. ↳ When you shut down, Mammon didn't understand what was going on. He was a little pissed at first, thinking you were causing a scene but upon seeing your face, he quickly teleported you to somewhere more quiet.

↳ It took some explaining, but he understood soon enough. He still wants you to come to the shows he hosts - even if you're both just in the audience - but he ensures you're comfortable first. Noise-cancelling headphones? Check. And you get there early to avoid the crowds and can stay well above them when you cuddle with him up on his spiderweb as you watch the show. ♡ Mammon is undoubtedly an enabler.

↳ If you have an interest that calls to you to buy merchandise or paraphernalia that relate to it, he's encouraging you to buy it! Hell, give him some sugar and he'll buy it for you himself!

↳ Greed is king and he's the king of Greed, baby! If you want to make an unreasonable purchase, he sure as hell will let you.

↳ "Go on, ya know ya want it. What's a couple a' fifties if it makes ya happy!" And you complain you don't have the cash to spare. "Yeah, alright, alright. Then how about you give me a kiss, and we can see if Mamz can get it for ya?" And he's got the widest grin ever.

♡ Surprisngly, he's a decent listener . . . ?

↳ You want to ramble away about something, you can. It was originally annoying to him that he wasn't the one controlling the conversation but when he saw how happy you were when he shut up and listen once, he learnt that sometimes being quiet wasn't so bad. You're cute when you ramble.

↳ "Eh wait, so run it by me again, doll. What's this thing all about?" And he already knows, but he wants to hear you say it again with the same passion.

♡ Misunderstandings can happen.

↳ If you're unable to read tone all too well over text, then you at least have the comfort of knowing that Mammon doesn't hide his emotions - even through messages. He tacks on lots of smileys and emojis so it helps a lot for indicating his tone. You find it cute that his emoticons have eight eyes sometimes. ::::)

↳ But there's still times when you misunderstand something he says or even vice versa, and you both have to scramble to make some sort of amends. He isn't too good at accepting blame but does his part to not push it on to you either.

↳ Another thing you like is that he's pretty straightforward and doesn't beat around the bush, so there are no guessing games. If you're the same, then he thinks it's great! Maybe even hilarious if you have the balls to be upfront with a Sin. Maybe that's what made him interested in you.

♡ If anyone gives you shit, they're dead. No question.

♡ But otherwise, nothing changes! Once you tell Mammon all your boundaries and preferences, he's incorporating them into your now shared lifestyle and dates - anything to keep his fav around!

But he isn't babying you or treating you any different from anyone else. The special treatment you do get is because he loves ya and loves spoiling his doll rotten!