#And the other three figured it out before I did

[sugrhigh]

TOUCH IT - ( c.s )

REQUESTED**

summary- you and chris have never gotten along, despite your close relationship with his two brothers. you find out that’s he’s been messing with your love life behind your back, and all hell breaks loose. you both exchange many hurtful pranks, until you take it too far and chris shows up at your place

warnings- SMUT W/ A PLOT (enemies to lovers), virgin!reader x playboy!chris, cursing, you know the drill

a/n: it’s been forever, but i have returned!! thank you for waiting and i truly hope this makes up for my absence. to the nonnie who requested this im praying it meets expectations lol. my inbox is always open for reqs, comments, sweet nothings, etc <3

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your sniffles fill the living room, a pathetic sound that continues as you wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. well, it’s actually nick’s sweatshirt, and even though you’re getting your makeup all over it, he feels so terrible that he doesn’t mind.

“i don’t understand, you guys. why would he blow me off after we already went on three really good dates?” you question, voice cracking in hurt.

nick shakes his head solemnly, rubbing your arm to try and console you. “because he’s a fucking loser. i know it sucks, but i promise you this is for the best. now you don’t have to waste any more time on that dick.”

you just sigh. he’s right, but that doesn’t make you feel any less embarrassed. being stood up is a hit to the self-esteem, especially when you get all dressed up to wait around outside the restaurant like an idiot and have your best friends pick you up an hour later.

and after years of being on the sidelines, of watching everyone around you date and fall in love, you have to admit that you really thought something was growing. you thought it was your turn.

meeting wes was like a breath of fresh air, and after a few very promising initial hangouts, you figured this might finally be it. a cute guy with similar interests who actually seemed to like you.

but you suppose you guessed wrong.

“he was so sweet though, and that’s why i’m confused. the guy i thought that i was going out with would have never done that.” you reason, more with yourself than with him.

matt huffs from the other side of you, pushing his hair back on his forehead. “don’t cut him any slack. if he was even halfway decent he would’ve been open and communicated with you.”

another truth bomb that only further ruptures your heart. you know they’re trying to help, even though nothing about this is making you feel any better.

the whole thing is a disaster, though you should have known better. your entire love life has always been a mess. but each time you meet someone new and start to fall, you’re hopeful that it’ll be different.

“i just want to know what i did.” you mutter, sniffling again to try and stop your runny nose.

before either of them can respond, a loud bang erupts out from the kitchen and infiltrates the moment. you flinch, snapping your head in the direction of the noise just to meet a pair of icy eyes.

it’s chris, because of course he has to see you like this, at your literal lowest point. he’s got a small pot in hand as he stares you down, somehow managing to look both annoyed and indifferent at the same time.

“what are you whining about this time?” he asks, turning his back to you so he can set the pot on the stove and switch on the burner.

“be nice, chris. she’s having a rough night.” nick tells his brother, who doesn’t heed the warning in the slightest.

instead he just spins around to face the three of you once more, a small (but still smug) smile lighting up his face.

“oh, you had a date with that idiot wesley didn’t you? how did it go?”

chris poses it as a question, but you see right through him. his sarcastic tone indicates that he already knows how it went, considering your mascara is streaked under your bloodshot eyes and you’re in nick’s clothes rather than your own outfit.

but still, you find yourself giving him an answer, though it’s followed up by an interrogation of your own. “he didn’t show. you happen to know anything about that?”

he shrugs, reaching to open the pantry and grab some pasta. “nope.”

“bullshit.”

it flies out of your mouth before you truly think about it, but you’re kind of happy you spoke up for once. you know he’s hiding something, and you deserve the whole truth.

“what is that supposed to mean?” he narrows his eyes, like he’s challenging you to say more.

“it means you’re lying right to my face. what did you do?” you question further, even though you’re not entirely sure you want the answer.

chris gnaws on his cheek, trying to decide how much to tell you. and then he remembers that his brothers are in the room, and that he’d never be caught dead admitting to any sort of vulnerability, so his mouth starts running without a second thought.

“oh, that? yeah, i ran into wes the other day at the gym.” he shrugs simply, like that explains it all.

you rise to your feet, legs far ahead of your brain as you charge in his direction. “what the fuck did you say, chris?”

he’s surprised by your temper considering you’re usually so mild-mannered, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to stand down. instead, he straightens to puff his chest out, crossing his arms in a defensive stance.

“i told him the truth. that you’re a prude, and that you’ll never let him hit no matter how many amazing dates you go on.”

your mouth falls open and you stop in your tracks, just a few feet from him now. there’s no softness in his eyes; he’s completely shut down, focused on upholding the facade.

never in a million years did you expect him to throw your inexperience back at you as an insult, no matter how much you both disliked each other.

you’re pretty sure you hear both matt and nick gasp lightly from the living room, completely taken aback by their brothers brazenness. you can’t blame them. you’re almost not sure how to react, or what to say. almost.

“you’re gonna regret the day you ever fucked with me, christopher sturniolo. i can promise you that.”

and you kept that promise.

“are you fucking kidding me?” you hear him roar from somewhere upstairs.

you immediately smile, munching on your breakfast (even though it’s noon) in the kitchen. nick looks over from beside you with wide eyes, and then takes notice of your satisfied expression.

“what did you do?” he asks in a hushed voice as you hear chris come bounding down the stairs.

you shrug and turn to look over your shoulder at the man of the hour. he’s shirtless, hair tussled from sleep with his sweats hanging low on his waist, and he’s waving around a pair of his boxers. it’s one of the expensive ones that you know is now completely destroyed thanks to your doing.

“really? cutting out a hole in all of my underwear?” chris snaps at you, tossing them at your feet because he doesn’t know what else to do.

it’s a dick hole, to be specific. they’re completely in tact aside from the gaping space where it’s supposed to protect his manhood.

“figured it would help save time since you wanna fuck everything that moves.” you say, taking a satisfying bite of your bacon as you study him with a smirk.

nick lets out a laugh, because he knows that chris honestly deserves it after his asshole behavior towards you a few days ago.

you’d been strong, pretending it didn’t phase you as much as it really had whenever you were hanging out with them. but it was beyond messed up, and neither of the boys could understand why their brother would go to that extent just to sabotage your relationship.

“better than being a stuck-up virgin who thinks she’s smarter than she is.” he growls in return, and there’s a mean look in his eyes.

you know he’s trying to hurt you, but he’s once again tossing your innocence around like a dig, which is what offends you the most considering it’s a deep-rooted insecurity.

and you hate that he’s still being malicious while he looks so damn heavenly standing across from you, his bare chest heaving in anger. it makes your stomach flip uncomfortably.

you don’t know if you’re sick with rage or sick with desire.

definitely rage, right?

“i’d rather be selective than completely ran through.” you hurl another diss at him, which he just scoffs at.

“you think you’re so fucking clever, don’t you? how many other times have you snuck into my room while i’m sleeping?” chris questions, taking a singular step forward.

he’s towering over you as you sit at the table, but you don’t let it intimidate you like he wants. instead, you say the one thing that you know he won’t expect.

“how many times have you thought about taking me in there yourself, huh?” you accuse him harshly.

your words hang in the air, and the tension is palpable. his lips part in shock, and you watch the blush creep up his neck to his face because he can’t count on both hands how much he’s pictured you in his bed.

you’re also stunned by his reaction, but you try not to show it. you expected him to tell you how wrong you are, how he would never touch you in a million years.

but he doesn’t.

“jesus, what did i just walk in to?” matt grumbles as he trudges past his brother into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

chris answers before you can. “nothing, she’s just being insane.”

“i’m sure whatever she did was reasonable after that douchebag comment you made the other day.” he replies easily, and your heart swells at the fact that he came to your defense.

you know it puts your two best friends in a tough situation considering you’re constantly bickering with their brother, but it’s nice to know they have your back on this.

“fine. i don’t fucking need this from all three of you anyways.” chris’s frown deepens as he turns on his heel to head back upstairs.

part of you feels a bit bad as you watch him go, but the overwhelming sensation that takes over is pride. you finally fought back, and you may have actually ended it.

well, that’s what you thought anyways, but you find that you’re once again wrong.

on your way back from the triplets house two days later, you were honked at eight separate times. you started keeping track.

the first instance scared the absolute shit out of you, because you thought you were about to get into an accident or something. your hand had flown to your chest, a loud curse leaving your mouth as your other palm gripped the wheel.

and then it happened again, and again, and many more times after that. you were pretty sure there was something written into the grime on your back window, but you couldn’t read it no matter how hard you tried.

you’re enraged by the time you park at your place, tearing out of the driver's seat to go look. you pull out your phone and tap the flashlight on, illuminating the hidden message.

honk if u think im a SLUT

you press your shaky fingers to your mouth, completely embarrassed by the fact that you’d been driving around like this and by the fact that so many people had essentially called you a whore.

what a stupid prank, considering you had almost crashed your car over it. you grab a napkin from your center console and wipe it all away, grumbling under your breath about how much you hate chris the whole time.

the. you stalk into your little ground-level apartment, slamming the front door shut behind you. by the time you’ve kicked off your shoes and made it to your bedroom you’ve worked yourself into a fit.

you whip your phone back out and find yourself pulling up his contact despite how much you don’t want to hear his cocky remarks.

but it’s ringing regardless, and he picks up on the second one. he was expecting the call, anxiously awaiting your reaction because he knew it would piss you off enough to talk to him.

“hey.” chris says simply, smiling to himself as he leans back in the rolling chair in his room.

“you’re a fucking idiot, you know that? and also a raging hypocrite while we’re at it. am i a prude or a slut, chris?” you lash out immediately, pacing around your room because you can’t seem to sit down.

“you’re a slutty prude.” he replies, and you can literally hear the smirk in his voice.

“and you’re just a little bitch. you love to act like you’re so tough, but i think you’re the weakest person i know by far. always too scared to say what you really mean.” your words are sharp yet fluid, as if they’re coming from someone besides yourself.

there’s a pause, just for a brief second, and you wonder what’s going through his head. you don’t know what’s going through your own anymore.

the line crackles and he sucks in a breath, re-arming himself to continue this brawl.

“you want me to say what i mean? i think you love riding on your high horse, pretending that you’re better than everyone else. like you’re so pure. but really you’re just needy and desperate, hoping someone will come along and fuck you right.”

your mouth is suddenly completely dry, trying to process what he even means while also coming up with a quick response.

“you think about people fucking me a lot? or do you think about you fucking me a lot?” you ask a beat later, bringing back the conversation from the other day.

he feels the blood rush to his dick, which stiffens against his sweats from this kind of talk with you. he’s only ever imagined it in his dreams.

“you wish it was me, don’t you sweetheart? taking it slow, making you weak.” he mutters, and you feel yourself throb from his words alone.

you hate how much it turns you on, thinking about chris completely having his way with you. you can feel the butterflies erupt in your stomach, pattering through your gut and up to your chest.

“you gonna come do something about it or are you just gonna keep talking shit?” you call him out.

he sucks in a breath, completely hard now from your alluring voice and the context of your words.

there’s nothing he wants more than to sprint to your house and spread you out on your bed, to show you what real pleasure is all about. but there’s so many underlying problems, one of which is the fact that his brothers are best friends with you.

there’s a lot to ruin, even though he knows he already destroyed any chance of a real relationship between the two of you the second he met you. but still, being honest means things will change, and that scares him.

so he pulls the phone away from his ear and hangs up.

for a second you don’t even realize, and then the ending tone alerts you that he’s not waiting to respond, he’s just a fucking jerk. you can’t believe he ended the call so abruptly, like it didn’t phase him at all.

your legs are shaky as you throw yourself down into bed, ignoring the chill you still feel creeping across your body from the conversation.

he won’t get the last laugh. you won’t let him.

chris thinks about you the most at night. it’s hardest to get you out of his head when he’s alone in his room, just like he is now, watching tv to try and drown out his overactive mind. he hasn’t seen you in a few days, which is unusual, and he doesn’t like to admit it but he misses you.

you’re the reason he’s scrolling through instagram in the first place, aimlessly liking girls' photos just to try and convince himself that he’s interested in other people.

but he’s not. he hasn’t been in a long time, because he knew almost immediately that you’re everything he’s ever wanted, which was only confirmed as you continued to stick around. the thought alone was terrifying.

so he pushed you, and pushed you, and pushed you, ensuring that you’d steer clear of him. it just seemed easier, though it’s proving to be quite the opposite.

he’s just about to turn to video games for saving when his phone goes off in his hand. it’s a text from a girl he met over a week ago at a party, who had come back to spend the night with him.

and she’s asking if he has chlamydia.

the question is followed by a screenshot, which chris taps on immediately as his heart beats out of his chest. it’s a different message from some kind of bot number, alleging that he recently tested positive and she should see a doctor.

the sad part is that it looks pretty official, so much so that if he received the text himself he would probably believe it blindly. his face burns in embarrassment and irritation.

then another one comes through, from a girl he used to hook up with pretty frequently last month. by the time he responds to one person, he’s greeted by more messages from others.

five girls text him in the span of five minutes, which just adds insult to injury that they’re all questioning it too. but finally, they stop coming, and he’s pretty sure it’s over.

and now that he’s no longer focused on repeatedly putting the rumor to bed, he’s pissed.

of course chris knows it was you behind all of it, because who else would it be. he just can’t believe you thought of it, that you bested him at his own game.

there’s so much pent up energy in his body that he feels like he could run a mile. but he doesn’t. instead he jams his feet into his sneakers and orders a car, on a path of complete destruction.

you're midway through an episode of broad city when you hear a pounding on your front door, which you don’t expect. it surprises you so much that you actually have to take a second to calm your racing heart down from the panic.

you know who it is too, which scares you more. you weren’t expecting him to just show up like this, especially since it’s only been a little over fifteen minutes since your latest prank.

you were thinking maybe there would be an angry confrontation next time you went over to their house, but not right now.

the knocking comes again, louder and more impatient this time. you finally bring yourself to get off the couch, heading for the front door and squaring your shoulders as you go.

you swing it open a second later, and even though you expected him, you’re still troubled by chris’s expression. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so infuriated, so intense.

his eyes are dark as he stares you down, muscles straining and on display in his black wife beater. his entire face is flushed, and even though you know he took an uber here, it looks like he could’ve sprinted the whole way.

“do you think you’re fucking funny?” he seethes, taking a step toward you.

instinctively you move backwards, like two opposite ends of a magnet. chris raises an eyebrow, and you tilt your head.

“am i laughing?” you ask sharply.

“why are you messing with my life like this, huh? all because i made a comment to some dumbass kid?” he continues to rail you with questions.

you literally can’t help but just blink at him for a moment, completely at a loss over the fact that he sees nothing wrong with what he did.

“if you really believe that it wasn’t a big deal, you’re even worse than i thought.” you respond, voice quiet but lethal.

this time his anger actually falters, and his grimace turns to a slight frown. you’ve cursed him out plenty of times, but somehow this feels way more real. and it rips through him like a knife.

“yeah, i’m the awful one. you wanna know what wes was saying about you to his friends in the gym that day? he said that he was trying to fuck you for the roster, and that he was hoping to do it after your date so he wouldn’t have to see you again.”

he reveals this information rather bluntly. it just falls out of his mouth, and there’s no way to stop it, so he keeps going, “and then i told him all that stupid shit about you to scare him away, because i thought it was easier to keep hating me than to hear the truth about him.”

your jaw goes slack, lips parting even though you have no thoughts running through your head. or, more specifically, you’re having so many thoughts crowding you that you can’t pick one.

“i—okay, let me get this straight. instead of just being honest with me, you let me wait around outside a fancy restaurant by myself for an hour like a fucking fool?” you grill him, still somehow finding a way to be pissed off.

“i didn’t want to hurt you.” chris counters, taking another step toward you so he’s almost inside the doorway.

you stand your ground this time, staring him down defiantly. “don’t give me that bullshit, you’ve been tormenting me since the day we met and you know it.”

he shakes his head, a frustrated grunt leaving his lips. “why do you insist on misunderstanding me?”

“because you don’t make any sense! first you hate my guts, and now i’m supposed to just accept that you were supposedly looking out for me the whole time?” you throw your hands up in exasperation.

“i never hated you, y/n. not even for a second. and i know it’s not my place but he didn’t deserve to be anywhere near you, especially not after what he said.”

this absolutely infuriates you, and you place both of your hands in between your two bodies to shove him back onto the little patio. he’s stunned by your temper, but he only lets it show for a moment.

“what, and you do? you ever think about all of the shit you’ve said about me, chris?” you’re louder now, because you feel like you’re being made to look like an idiot.

he just approaches again, which sends you backing up into the apartment as he follows close behind. chris kicks the door shut and reaches out, one hand slipping behind your neck while the other moves to hold onto your hip, forcing you close to him.

“i didn’t mean any of it. i liked you from the moment i met you, and i hated that, so i took it out on you to try and keep you away. but i didn’t mean it,” he emphasizes, leaning in slightly so he’s practically breathing his words against your mouth, “let me show you.”

you can smell the musky cologne on his skin, trying so hard to ignore the shiver running down your spine from his proximity alone. your heart is beating out your of your chest and you briefly wonder if he can hear it.

“i don’t…i can’t trust you, chris.” you reply, turning your head so you can avoid his gaze, but he won’t let that happen.

he forces you to look back at him, tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck so he can guide your head straight. chris watches your eyes grow wide, lips parting ever so slightly as your resolve continues to fade.

“yes you can, i promise. let me show you what i really think about you, please.” he begs, tilting a bit more so that his lips ghost over yours, testing the waters.

you haven’t been properly kissed in quite some time, and the desire to give in is so strong that you can’t fight any longer. so you lean into it, throwing your arms up so you can wrap them around his neck and pull him flush against your chest.

his mouth melts against yours, tentatively at first to make sure you’re comfortable. when you start to pick up the pace, kissing him with a newfound fervor, chris begins to let his tongue wander against yours more passionately.

then his hands slide down to grip your ass tightly, kneading the supple flesh with his fingers. you gasp against his mouth, an airy and delicate sound that makes his stomach twist. he’s been dying to hear that for over a year now.

a second later you feel him bite down on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and admiring the way the skin recoils as he lets go. you didn’t realize how much you would enjoy the mixture of slight pain and pleasure.

“tell me you want this too.” chris demands, lining his mouth up with your ear so that he can speak lowly.

normally you would protest, or insult him, or roll your eyes, but things have completely changed in the last few minutes. now all you can think about is how soft his kisses are, how you want to feel them all over.

so you nod with those doe eyes locked on him as he pulls away to study you, taking in your flustered state. “i want you to show me, chris.”

the sentence is music to his ears, and he can’t believe this is actually finally happening. you break your grasp on his neck, taking a step back so you can slip your hand into his.

you lead him down the hall toward your bedroom, heart thumping against your ribcage with each step you take. you’re nervous, but you also somehow feel more comfortable with him than the few guys who came before.

and sure, you’d never fully had sex with any of them. but now you’re kind of glad you didn’t, so chris can be your first.

your room is a bit messier than you’d like considering you weren’t expecting company, especially not in this part of the house, but you don’t have time to fix it now. it’s not like he gives a single shit; the only thing he’s focused on is you.

the tiny shorts you’re wearing have started to ride up as you tug him along, which only grabs his attention more. chris gives your butt a light smack with his free hand before twirling you back into his side with the other, pressing a steady kiss to your lips.

you laugh slightly, because you can’t help it, which makes him smile against your mouth. it really does feel corny, but he doesn’t care all that much. for you, he’s willing to drop the tough guy act.

“are you sure about this?” chris asks as he pulls away, his forehead pressed against yours as he awaits a response.

you lean in to peck him swiftly again before speaking. “i’m sure, really.”

he nods once, guiding you a few steps backwards so you fall down onto your own plush bed sheets. for a moment he admires the way your hair fans out around you, the slight ‘o’ of surprise that your lips make, trying to capture a mental picture of the moment.

your fingers find the bottom of his shirt in an attempt to speed things up, wrapping the material into your fist and bringing him down on top of you. he braces himself, arms on either side of you while he nudges your legs apart so his knee is between them.

you let your hands grasp his mostly bare shoulders as his head dips down, pressing kisses to your cheek, along your jaw, the hollow area underneath your earlobe. soft little noises fall from your lips as chris finally reaches your neck, careful not to be too rough as he sucks on the sensitive skin of your throat.

he adores it and he wants to hear more, to make them louder. so his mouth trails to your collarbone, which is luckily on display since you’re in a tube top. and then he lifts his thigh forward a bit more, ensuring that his knee brushes right against your clothed heat.

your hips grind down against his muscles almost involuntarily, eliciting a real moan as your cunt throbs desperately. you rock your hips against him at a quicker pace, loving the pressure that's beginning to build in your stomach from the stimulation.

“mmm, y’sound so pretty.” chris grumbles against your body, tongue sloppily running over the now irritated areas.

it’s the first time he’s ever really praised you, and considering it’s coming from the person you least expected, it makes it that much sweeter.

he pauses, pulling his head up so that he can hover over you. his hands begin to slide underneath your top suggestively and you help him, wiggling the stretchy material over your head.

you toss it to the floor, chest fully on display as the cold air rushes over your hardened nipples. a long breath passes by his lips as he takes you in, his dick straining against his sweats now as you gaze at him bashfully.

“quit staring.” you complain, though your voice holds no conviction.

“you make it hard not to.” chris shakes his head with a smile, leaning back down so that he can brush your worries away with another brief kiss.

this time you can feel his hard-on pressed against the inside of your thigh as his mouth searches yours, sloppier yet somehow sweeter this time around. his hand dances across your hip and up your side, moving higher and higher until his fingers are grazing over one of your exposed breasts, stopping to massage it roughly.

your back arches, rutting your chest into his grasp as you groan against his lips. chris pulls away, tiny smirk morphing his features.

“aw, you like that baby?” he goads, spreading his other palm out against the previously untouched mound of flesh, squeezing your nipples between his fingers lightly.

you can feel the wetness pooling at your core as he stays poised between your legs, continuing to tweak the sensitive buds in a way that’s deliciously enjoyable. you’re writhing under his hands, and he loves that you’re completely in his control.

but chris also knows that he can take you further, satisfy you more than you could’ve ever imagined. so he bows to your body, attaching his mouth to your throat and leaving several messy kisses.

his lips shift to brush against the area right above your chest, nipping at the skin lightly as he brings one hand back to grasp one of your tits. finally, he gets far down enough to flick his tongue across one of your nipples, his fingers pinching the other gently, swapping between them after a moment.

“fuck, chris.” you whimper, mind already becoming fuzzy from the carnal desire for more.

“god i love hearing you moan my name.” he admits before sucking the sensitive bud back into his mouth, toying with it a bit more just to drive you crazy.

he stays there for a moment as you both enjoy the dragged out foreplay. it’s a moment with you that he’s waited for for what seems like an eternity, and he wants it to last as long as possible.

and as much as he would like to linger in this spot forever, chris is craving even more of you. the tent in his pants is still growing from all of your beautiful noises and expressions, but he’s only worried about making this the best experience for you.

so he carries on, trailing down the valley of your breasts, wetting the area as he continues. he presses several slow kisses against your stomach, in a straight line leading directly to the waistband of your cotton pants.

you watch as he looks up at you through his long lashes, pupils blown out in lust. “can i take these off, pretty girl?”

“please.” the roles are reversed and now you’re the one begging him.

“so needy.” chris drags the ‘y’ out slightly as he simultaneously does the same thing to your shorts, careful to tug your thin and soaked panties with them.

the air rushes over the slickness that’s already developed, and you instinctively close your legs. you’ve never had anyone actually go down there, just a guy who stuck his hand in your pants to finger you—very poorly, if you’re honest—during seven minutes in heaven well over a year ago.

so it makes you a little self-conscious having him this close. he’s quick to pry you apart again, fully lowering himself to the floor of your room so he’s face to face with your pussy.

“can’t believe no one has ever seen you like this, you little tease.” his voice is low as he starts kissing your inner thigh, working his way in, “wanna taste you so bad.”

he’s growing closer to where you need him, and you throb when you feel his lips graze the innermost part of your leg. chris blows one singular breath right across your cunt, which shocks you slightly, before pressing a soft open-mouthed kiss to your clit.

you feel your legs tremble a little bit in his palms, your hands automatically going to tangle in his hair. a long whine escapes as his tongue works across you, and you can literally feel him smile in satisfaction.

the fact that it’s his mouth making you squirm like this, that he’s the only one that’s ever gotten to eat you out, is something he’s currently taking a lot of pride in.

he lightly teases your entrance, moving back and forth from that and sucking on your pulsing clit. it makes you grip onto his roots tighter, grinding down onto his face slightly as you moan his name again like a prayer. he swears he could cum in his pants right now, without you even touching him.

“you’re so fucking sexy.” he purrs against your cunt, the vibrations sending another tiny jolt through your body.

you can feel how hot your face is, how tense your stomach has become, and you can’t bring yourself to find any words. that is, until his fingers glide across your clit, rubbing over it lightly as you throw your head back against the mattress.

“holy shi—oh!” your voice catches in your throat midway through your sentence as he suddenly slips a finger inside.

a lewd noise escapes your throat once he does so, and he begins to pump it slowly. you’re finding it nearly impossible to keep your hips planted on the mattress, so he guides your leg over his shoulder and digs his nails into your skin to keep you still.

you rock your pelvis forward, connecting with his hand harder now as you chase the sensation, listening to the wet sounds of him gliding in and out of your cunt. chris adds another one of his slender fingers inside of you, and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to contain some of the desperate noises you’re making.

his own cock is pulsing as he continues, admiring the way your tits jiggle as he picks up his pace, the way your hair is slightly matted while your mascara collects under your eyes. he knows you want more just based on the way you’re bucking to meet his fingers, but he wants to hear you say it.

“is there something you’d like, sweetheart?” he asks, pressing another open kiss to your overstimulated clit.

you look down at him, meeting those pretty blue eyes as he awaits an answer, and you feel yourself shiver in both anticipation and from the current excitement.

“more, chris. i—need you.” you finally manage to get it out, voice pinched as you speak.

“what do you need, huh? you gotta tell me, use those words.” he demands further, and even though his taunting makes you shy, you realize you’ll have to answer if you want him to continue.

“need you inside me, baby.” you plead breathlessly, and he lets out an involuntary groan at the use of the pet name.

he didn’t expect you to play into the dirty talk, and at this point his erection is begging to be set free, to have you wrapped around him. so chris slows his fingers to a stop, leaving you feeling empty as he removes them.

a pout takes over your features as he stands up, placing his fingers in his mouth so he can suck your wetness off of them. it’s ridiculously racy, and it leaves you clenching around nothing as you wait for his next move.

“wanna be buried in this pretty pussy so bad.” chris growls, reaching to yank his wife beater over his head.

his chain bounces against his collarbones as he throws it away half-hazardly, tugging his boxers and sweatpants down to his ankles a second later. your eyes widen slightly as his dick springs free, slapping against his stomach as he steps out of his clothes.

precum dribbles out of the tip, which is angry and red from desire. you’re completely in a trance, staring as he takes himself into his own hand, pumping a few times so he can spread the slick around.

he notices the way you’re studying him in amazement, one corner of his mouth turning upward. “d’you want to give it a try, princess?”

your heart leaps into your throat, and even though you’re scared, you really want to learn how to make him feel good too. so you nod silently, extending your hand toward his cock, hesitating once you’re close enough.

“spit in your palm, wrap your fingers around it and then stroke, just like i was.” he instructs, so you suck in a breath and do as you’re told.

your newly-wetted hand closes around the bottom of his shaft, and he hisses out a curse as you start working up and down, squeezing the sensitive skin timidly. your thumb runs over his slit and he lets out a low moan, fucking himself into your fist.

“a-ah shit, just like that.”

you adore the admiration, unable to contain your smile as you apply some more pressure. his head is tilted back to the ceiling, eyes screwed shut as he enjoys the brief handjob. but chris can already feel the orgasm building, so he stills your movements by placing his fingers over your own.

your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “was it bad?”

he shakes his head immediately before he settles back down on top of you, bracing himself on his forearms as he leans in for a kiss. the taste of your arousal still lingers on his lips, which you surprisingly enjoy way more than expected.

“no, if anything it was too good. i would’ve finished from that alone.” chris admits against your mouth, which makes you feel insanely content.

“can’t have that, can we? not when i need you to fill me up.” you reply in a sultry tone, and if you didn’t know any better you would think that the comment made him blush.

“jesus, you can’t say shit like that to me.” he grumbles, moving to run his tongue along your jaw as his hand wraps around your throat.

chris squeezes the sides of your windpipe lightly, rutting his hips upward so that his dick slides against your drenched folds. the warmth from your center immediately causes his breathing to become labored, and you whimper as you feel his tip nudge your swollen clit.

“are you ready?” he pants into your ear, and you mumble a few pathetic words of confirmation to spur him on.

with that, chris uses the hand that was previously on your throat to line himself up at your entrance, looking up to catch your eye again. he pauses for a moment, so you give him a nod of encouragement.

“tell me if it gets too uncomfortable.” he says, intertwining his free fingers with yours so you have something to hold on to.

then he slowly starts to push himself inside, beginning with just the tip as your eyes screw shut. the stretch is painful at first, like you’re being split wide open by the sheer size of him, so you focus on your breathing as your grip on his hand tightens.

inch by inch he fills you up, until finally his full length is being gripped by your plush walls. you wince at the agonizing pressure, your nails digging into his back as he waits for you to adjust. you’re already clenching around him involuntarily, and he lets out a long groan.

“you alright, baby?” chris questions a beat later, concern laced in his voice.

“yeah, i think so.” you reply quietly.

“keep breathing, i’ll take it slow.” he promises, trying to comfort you as best he can.

you just nod, still latched onto his shoulder while his thumb strokes the back of your hand. his other palm clutches your hip, steadying himself as he begins to move in and out. you choke on your breath, doing everything you can to ignore the overwhelming ache.

it’s a feeling unlike any other, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck to keep from crying out. slowly but surely he picks up his rhythm, rocking into you sensually as you finally begin to transition into the pleasurable part of the experience.

a moan falls from your lips, muffled slightly by his skin. it surprises the both of you, and it makes chris flush, completely aroused by the fact that he’s the first guy to ever make you feel this way.

“doing so well, taking it all for me.” he says in a whiny tone, shifting to give you a kiss as he marvels at how tight you’re squeezing him.

the pressure in your stomach from earlier comes back, building as chris begins to snap his hips a bit quicker. gasps escape your throat on loop every time he plunges back into your cunt, and he grunts from the feeling of you enveloping his dick.

“oh my god.” you whimper pathetically, positioning your hand on the back of his neck so you can pull yourself in to meet his strokes.

he loves that you’re taking more control, that you’re truly starting to enjoy yourself. he can feel himself growing closer to the edge, and it doesn’t help that you’re now clenching around him every time he bottoms out.

but he holds on, letting go of your hand so he can bring it between your bodies, brushing two fingers over your clit. you practically convulse in surprise, your pornographic moans filling the room as he rubs tiny circles against the sore bud.

“shit, chris!” you cry, and you can feel the band in your stomach getting ready to snap.

“let ‘em know, princess, tell ‘em who makes you feel this good.” he slides his fingers against you quicker, plunging so deep now that he’s tapping your cervix with every pump.

“i’m—” you don’t even have time to finish your sentence before your abs tense up, legs uncontrollably shaking now.

you lean into the wave, letting it wash over you as you find your release. chris is close behind, shuddering as his thrusts grow needy and sloppy. then you feel him twitch, his hot cum mixing with your own as it pours out from his slit. he eventually stills a few seconds later, both of your chests heaving as he slowly slides out of you for good.

he rolls to his back, slumping beside you so that both of your arms are pressed together as you each regain your breath.

you’re scared to speak first, terrified really, so when you hear chris clear his throat you’re thankful that he’s breaking the silence.

“that was…you’re so…fuck, you’re just perfect.” chris fumbles with his words, and you glance over at him with a small grin.

“i’m really glad it was you, chris. thank you.” you press a sweet kiss to his cheek, and this time you’re positive he’s blushing.

“i’m glad it was me too.” he confesses as his arm snakes around your waist, pulling your back to his chest.

it’s a comfortable feeling, being held by him, and it’s one that you want to enjoy forever.

“to think, we could’ve been doing that this whole time.” you rag on him a little, unable to remain completely serious.

he buries his chin in your neck, breath tickling your ear as he responds. “good thing we have the rest of our lives to make up for it.”

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— don't forget about us, will you?

pairings: beth mead x reader, vivianne miedema x reader

summary: reader finds out that vivs' leaving the club and isn't too happy about the decision

"Hey, kid. Can we talk?" Beth hesistates to ask as the three of you arrive home from the training grounds, you were more than grateful to be home after a grueling rehab session and all you want to right now is lounge on the sofa.

"Uh huh sure," You flop down on the sofa cautiously, aware of hurting your knee as you briefly glance at the couple standing in front of you, "What's up?" You question as you aimessly start to scroll through your Instagram newsfeed.

"Put the phone down, kleintje. There's something that I... I need to tell you," Viv swallows the lump in her throat as she settles on the other side of the sofa.

You can't help but furrow your eyebrows in confusion, "What's going on?" You wonder.

"Y/N, there's something that you should know," Viv begins to speak, biting her bottom lipn as she hesistantly looks at Beth who nods in encouragement for her to go on, perching on the sofa beside the Dutch and holding her hand comfortingly.

"Oh? That sounds serious-- Is it serious?" You still continue to glance between the two of them while you try and figure out what the news might be without knowing any further context yet, "If its' about something that I did then, well, you have no proof that I even did it," You joke, holding your hands up in surrender and trying to keep the topic light hearted.

"Y/N," Beth speaks in a gentle voice, but still held a tone of firmness that you're not quite used to hearing.

"Oh, this is serious," You frown in realisation when you note the faltered smile on both of their faces, "Is it bad news? Cos' neither of you are smiling or joking like usual," You add.

"Kid, just... just listen," Beth stammers her words.

"O... Okay," You mumble, confused.

"The thing is kleintje," Viv begins as her voice quivers.

"What's going on?" You question as you can feel your heart skip a beat, dreading whatever news is about to be given, "Viv? Beth? Tell me what it is, please!" You plead, although it makes you sound desperate with the way that you say it.

"You have to tell her, Viv," Beth chimes in, sharing a knowing look with the Dutch woman.

"Tell me what? What's going on?!" You feel like your repeating yourself and you can't help but raise your voice, wanting answers.

Viv slowly nods in agreement and clears her throat, "The... The club doesn't want to renew my contract at the end of the season. I'm... I'm leaving Arsenal," She breaks the news to you.

"What? You... You're leaving?" The words leave a bitter taste in your mouth and it feels like the ground is slowly being ripped out from underneath you, "You can't... You can't leave,"

"I know, I'm sorry kleintje. I wish that things could be different," Viv's own eyes brim with tears as she speaks to you honestly.

"Wha... What do you mean they won't renew it? That's not... That's not fair!" Your quick to lash out directly in anger, nothing seems to be making sense anymore, "You... You can't!" You repeat, angrily.

How can she leave the club? 7 years being there with 173 appearances in an Arsenal shirt, scoring 126 goals and the club are just willing to let her go, just like that?

None of that makes any sense at all.

"Beth, you have to do something! You can't-- We can't just let her go!" You demand, turning your attention to the blonde whos' been silent ever since you were told, "Surely, the club has just made a mistake!"

Beth gives you a sympathetic smile and shakes her head, "I wish there was something that I could do to the help the situation, but its' out of my hands, kid," The blonde admits, her own feelings were very clear about the situation and she wasn't happy either.

"Its' not fair, none of this is fair!" You mumble, shaking your head in disbelief before you slowly begin to get up from the sofa, "What about... What about you being there to see my return? That's not gonna happen now!" The sudden realisation of that hits and you can't help but feel sadness about that truth of it.

"I'll still be there, you try and stop me," Viv winks at you, trying to keep the mood light as she tries to reach you to envelope you in a hug, "I'll be there when you your return back on the pitch, Y/N. It's going to be okay," She adds.

You shrug her off and shake your head, "You don't know that? You don't-- You'll go to a new club, you'll leave and forget about us!" Your initial sadness turns back into anger, you were mainly angry at the club and at Jonas for his stupid decision, "I'm going to my room. I want to be alone!" You tell them before you start to sulk off.

"Wait, Y/N," Viv begins to call after you.

"Just let her go, Leifje. She just needs the time to take in the news and she'll come back out when shes' ready," Beth reassures her girlfriend, squeezing her hand gently in reassurance, "This news is a shock to us all, but its' going to be okay," She adds.

Despite with the fact that you are currently out with an ACL injury for the remainder of the season, you still want to be there and support the girls as they play their final game in the 23/2024 season against Brighton.

Your there to watch as Viv officially plays her final game as a Gunner, and you're not ashamed to admit that you probably will end up crying throughout most of the game.

"How're you holdin' up, kid?" Lotte glances in your direction, noting the tears that you're fighting to hold back as you join her in the stands.

"Alright, I guess. It just doesn't seem real that she's leaving," You shrug your shoulders and look to the bench where you can see that Viv looks like she's been crying, "It's not fair, it's so wrong. Can't they just say they've made a mistake?" You find it hard to understand the reasoning behind the clubs decision.

Lotte smiles sympathetically and pulls you into her arms as you rest your head on her shoulder, "I know that it doesn't kid," she mumbles in agreement.

"It'll be okay, kid," Lia see's your upset and squeezes your hand gently.

"It doesn't feel like it," You shake your head in disagreement and try to focus on the game, although its' hard to do that when your sad that your team mum would be leaving the club after this game today.

The whole thing left a bitter taste in your mouth. How can it be?

"Come on kid," Lotte gestures you to follow her onto the pitch to join the rest of the team after the final whistle is blown after the 5 nil victory, "Lets' go see the rest of the girls," She adds.

You nod solmely in agreement and slump over to the pitch where you immediatly rush over to your 2 team mums, "Vivi!" You all but jump into the older women's arms.

"Kleintje!" Viv's taken back by your sudden change of attitude, considering the last week you have been sulking about it since you found out.

"Viv, be careful of her knee!" Beth scolds her girlfriend gently as the Dutch women spins you around on the spot.

"She'll be fine," Viv chuckles and shakes her head, placing you back down on the ground.

"I'm fine," You repeat, rolling your eyes.

Viv gives her girlfriend an amused smirk, "See? She's fine, liefje," She states.

"Says' the one that's been the most worried about her throughout her rehab, hm?" Beth teases her partner amusedly and shakes her head before she looks in your direction, "Just be careful, kid. You don't want to knock it and aggitate it," She adds.

"Yes mum, don't worry. I'll be fine," You remark sarcastically and roll her eyes, resisting the urge to say anything further.

"Aye, aye, non of that," Beth playfully swats the back of your head, "Just be careful, okay? I'm serious, kid!"

You huff and begrudingly nod your head in agreement before you turn your attention back to Viv, "That was an amazing goal, Vivi! One touch on the ball and its' in the back of the net, it was awesome!" You mention.

"Thank you, kleintje," Viv presses a light kiss to the top of your head and wraps her arm around your shoulder, guiding you in the direction of the rest of the girls where hugs are exchanged with each other.

The most emotional part soon came around where you're stood alongside your team mates, listening to Vivs' speech and you can't help the tears that spill down your cheeks.

You also can't help but feel angry hearing the fans' shout out loud and interrupt the speech. If you were being honest, you did sort of agree with them, however, it seems like the wrong time and place right now.

"Hey, come here," You feel yourself pulled into someone's arms and you recognise the familiar voice of your fellow Lioness team mate, "You okay?" She questions, concerned.

"This... This isn't fair, its' not right!" You mumble, crying into her chest as you can still hear the speech as background noise, "The fans... Why are they shouting this stuff? Its' not right, Vivi doesn't deserve this!"

"I know its' hard to heart, Y/N," Alessia comforts you and pulls you into her embrace, sympathsising how difficult it was for the ones' closest to Viv.

"Its' so wrong and disrespectful," You murmer, shaking your head and keeping it buried in Alessias' chest.

"Hey, kid," You hear the familiar voice of your Irish team mate as you feel her hand rest on your back in comfort.

You spin around and look at Katie, trying to keep from further tears spilling down your cheeks when you see how distraught Katie looks as well, "They're making... They're making a mistake, aren't they, Katie? I mean you saw her goal-- How... How can they just let her go?" You question in disbelief.

"I... I don't know, kid," Katie answers honestly, "Be honest with me, how are you? I know its' a lot and you're bound to be upset today," She states.

You can't help but shrug your shoulders as you feel numb to certain emotions now, "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just sad, you know?" You mumble.

"Aw kid, come here," Katie envelopes you into her arms, "It's a lot to handle today, it's okay to let your emotions out in the open," She reassures you.

"I just... Its' not fair though, is it?" Your sadness is quick to turn into anger, "How can she just leave, how can they let her go-- Just like that?" She questions.

"I know it's hard to understand, but it'll be okay," Katie smiles at you sympathetically.

You shake your head in disagreement, "No, no it's not! How is it okay? Vivs' abandoning us-- Shes' abandoning me!" Your cover up to act fine is a complete front as you let your true feelings out in the open.

"Hey, calm down, kid. Its' okay!" Katie tries to calm you down before anyone else can catch on to what's going on.

"No, no, it's not! Its' not fair-- None of this is even fuckin' fair!" You shout loudly in disagreement, your just too upset to even realise that you're causing a scene in front of the team, the whole club and even the fans that were stood in the stands.

"What's going on?" Leah wonders over after she hears the commotion from you on the other side of the pitch, "Hey, Y/N-- Whoa, what's the matter, baby England?" Shes' confused when you literally throw yourself into her arms.

"Eh, I think the kids' just a bit upset," Katie tries to explain, frowning at the blonde, "Should I find Beth?" She wonders.

"No, no, let me see if I can calm her down first," Leah shakes her head in disagreement, glancing over to Beth who is sharing a moment with Viv after the speeches have been given and she doesn't want to worry her.

"Its' just not fuckin fair!" You continue to shout, loud enough for others to hear.

"Hey, Y/N, you need to calm down," Leah tells you firmly as she wraps her arms tightly around you, "I know you're upset, but you can't make a scene like this on the pitch. Now, do you want to talk about what's going on?" She asks.`

"Vivs' leaving," You broke down into tears all over again after trying to keep it together for so long, "Vivs' leaving and we're never gonna see her again!" You cry, letting out your emotions out.

"Whoa, whoa, that's not true," Leah chuckles, shaking her head in disagreement, "You'll still see Viv because you live with them, don't you? That's not going to change," She tells you.

You nod faintly, but then the panic only seems to escalate when you realise that there's a possobility of Viv moving to another club abroad, "But... But what if she goes to a different club, like another one in a different country?" You question, worriedly.

"Alright, hey, listen to me, baby England," Leah turns her attention fully to you as she pulls you aside, "Talk to me, what's this really about?" She questions, concerned.

"W... What about when I make my return to the pitch? She won't be there then," You exhale a sigh and let your own fears out in the open.

The realisation suddenly dawns on Leahs' face, "Is that what your so upset about, hm? Cos' you know that whatever happens, Viv will be there for you and support you. That still won't change, no matter what," She explains, gently.

Katie nods in agreement, "Exactly, just because Viv is at another club, when it comes to the time where you make your return to the pitch then I'm sure she'll be there, yeah?" She reassures you, squeezing your shoulder gently.

"Ready to head back home now?" Beth questions, spotting you slowly walk over in the direction of them after the last few moments on the pitch.

"Guess so," You mumble in agreeement.

Viv takes in your appearance and her smile falters, "Hey, kleintje. You okay-- You've been crying, huh?" She notes.

You numbly nod in agreement and hang your head down glumily, "I'm... I'm sorry, I'm just sad. I can't believe you're leaving the club," You murmer, sadly.

"I know, Y/N. It's a lot of change, isn't it?" Viv replies with the same tone of sadness in her voice as she wraps her free arm around you.

You willingly allow yourself to be pulled into her embrace and exhale a sigh, "Its' okay if you move to a new club, but you won't forget about me, will you?" You question, worriedly.

Viv chuckles lightly and shakes her head, "Forget about you? Kleintje, you're my kid, I'm still going to be there and watch your achievements, when you make your return to the pitch-- I'll be there, I won't ever forget about you," She tells you honestly.

"Really?" You ask in surprise.

"Of course, I love you so much, kleintje. You will always be important to me," Viv nods in agreement.

Beth furrows her eyebrows in concern, "Is that why you've been so upset about things, kid?" She wonders.

You shrug your shoulders in response to her question, "Maybe, I let my fears get inside my head," You admit.

Beth exhales a sigh and smiles sympathetically, "Oh kid, you should have just spoke to us. I heard you got upset on the pitch," She notes, waiting for your reaction.

You quirk your eyebrow in confusion, "Who told you?" You can't help but ask, although your stupid to not think somebody would've seen that when you were practically screaming.

"Leah," Beth states.

"Tattle-tail," You mumble, turning to scowl at the blonde who you see out the corner of your eye.

"Aye, non of that," Beth chides, shaking her head. "You know that she only told me because she cares. But listen, no matter what happens, we're always gonna be a family, different clubs or not. Yeah?" She reassures you.

"Yeah, 'spose so," You huff and slump your shoulders in defeat.

Viv nods in agreement with her girlfriend, "Beths' right," She speaks quietly, as a matter of fact.

"I love you both lots," You mumble, feeling them both envelope you in their arms to share a hug.

"We love you too," They both speak at the same time.

"Whatever happens, we're always gonna be a family, kleintje. Remember?" Viv presses a light kiss on the top of your head.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[hwanchaesong]

┗🖋️ Starry eyes lighting up the fire / The scorching palms of a squire / Ignites the sensations of ire / A storm, not in peace with a lyre 📖

🎧: Taylor Swift ft. Post Malone- Fortnight

wc: 1.7k

genre & warnings: angst, sprinkle of fluff, smut, jay is rich and reader is an ave citizen, cursing, club and drinking, unprotected sex, overstim, creampie, mentions of forced marriage, etc etc mdni

a/n: this is a part of The Tortured Poems Department series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

"You alone?" a figure came up from behind you, snapping your daydreams.

"Oh uhm," you stuttered, not exactly a great talker, much less in front of an attractive man, "with my friends but.. it seems like they have found some men to go home with."

An awkward chuckle escapes you, and you almost wince with how unnatural you sounded, thankfully, the male is not a judgmental one.

"Well then, let me accompany you."

That was hours ago and now you're having your back blown by the rich, handsome man you've been conversing with back at the bar.

Face pushed onto the lush pillow of the luxurious bed of the hotel you're in, knuckles turning white with how you're gripping the silken sheets, and your muffled moans with the wet sounds of skin slapping echoed throughout the expanse of the room.

"That's my good princess, you take me so well." the man above you continues to harshly pound into your abused cunt, showering you with praise that had you reeling in pride and pleasure.

You had been going at it for three hours now, and he had made you cum for.. the nth time. You can't count anymore, if you're going to be honest.

He's so so good with his fingers, tongue, and everything. A stranger that you only met for tonight gave you the best experience you'll ever pray or wish for.

You mewled his name in a weak manner when he slows his pace down, a condescending smirk on his insanely attractive face.

"Close?" he asked and you can only nod meekly, he chuckles at you before manhandling you in a missionary position.

"Ja- Ah! Oh god! Slow down!" you cried out, arms flying on his chest when he suddenly bottoms out in your wetness and railing you to oblivion.

He started off sweet, he was basically making you comfortable until you begged for him to do more. So he did do more, and you can only blame yourself for biting more than you can chew.

You can complain all you want though, he's not stopping. Not when you're this dripping all over him, gripping him, oh, he knows you're loving this.

"Why would I slow down, babe?" he rasped, leaning down to lick a stripe of your skin on your neck, "I thought you like it better if it's rough?" he whispers in your ear, nibbling on your lobe.

"I-I, it was not hmpf-!" he cuts you off with his own mouth, capturing your lips in a filthy kiss, tongues out and clashing with each other until drool dribbles down your chin.

"No more explaining, baby." he mumbles against your lips, his thrusts are relentless throughout and it has you moaning in rapture.

He is so big and thick, he easily hits all the spots that most men can't even touch. The tip of his length scratches your cervix and it sends you into a frenzy.

You are nothing but a muttering hot doll in his presence, and it makes him smirk, the way you take everything that he gives you.

"See, you like this." he mused, furrowing his brows when he felt his high coming nearer, his hands reaching down to rub circles on your bundle of nerves, "Last one baby, you can do it."

He urges you to let go, and with one last thrust from him, you both came at the same time.

Heavy pants filled the room, and he pulled out of you with a grunt, followed by your whines when he inserted two fingers in your sensitive womanhood, pushing the mixture of cum back in your pussy.

"Jay.. stop it." you mumbled sleepily as he laughed lightly, licking his digits to clean the liquids and lying down beside you.

"Sorry, gotta make sure you'll keep all that in." you giggle at his silliness, peering at him through your lashes, only to see him staring at you intently.

"What is it?" you inquired, shutting your eyes when his hands rubbed your flushed skin, soothing the tense muscles underneath.

"I was thinking," he contemplates for a second, "do you want to spend your remaining two weeks here with me?"

With a wide smile, you turned and embraced him, catching him by surprise but he returned the hug nonetheless, covering you in his sturdy arms, "Thought you'd never ask."

---------------------------------------------------

"My fu-! Dear god." you were woken up rather abruptly when loud knocks resonated in your home.. newly bought home.

Life has been good so far. You got a new job in the suburbs, far away from the city but you like the tranquil vibes (and the pay is higher for some reason). You're finally out of your crappy apartment, your effort of saving money has paid you with a new house and lot.

You rubbed your eyes, standing from the sofa and subtly checking yourself in front of the mirror if you're presentable enough to entertain guests. Deeming yourself fine, you're good to go.

Upon opening the door, a lovely woman greeted you, offering you a freshly baked good. 'A gift for the new neighbor', she says.

"Thank you so much. You didn't have to go through the trouble." you muttered graciously, an appreciative smile on your face.

"No problem!" she laughs, extending her hand for you to take, "I'm Park Minhee. I live right next to you with my husband." she points at the large, mansion-like house beside your own average one.

"That's great." you accept the handshake, starting to grow fond of the kind woman, and it makes you think that her husband must be so lucky to have her by his side.

"By the way," she says in a hurried tone, "please join us for dinner later, I would like to introduce you to my husband."

"Sure!" you agreed without hesitation, making her beam with joy and when she ran off into their household, only then did you realize the repercussion of your impulsive decision.

You barely knew them and it feels like you're intruding!

You shake your head in disappointment, you have to work on that aspect of yourself.

Putting down the gift you had received, you realize that it was an apple pie.. his favorite.

You stopped yourself from thinking about him again. It's unbelievable, really, how he's still plaguing your mind and heart with the memories and feelings he left within you.

It was 2 weeks for fucks sake! Why is it so hard to move on from him? What kind of narcotic did he use on you that you're unable to forget about him.

Was it the way he touched you while his eyes speak millions of sentiments that words can't fully express it?

Was it the way he kissed you, fucked you, made you feel like you're the only girl that matters in the whole world?

4 months fucking months since you've last seen him and haven't been able to escape the loop of that fleeting 14 days of February.

You inhaled, burying the thoughts in your subconscious. You just have to give it some time, and slowly but surely, he will be nothing but a burnt ash of your cigarette.

---------------------------------------------------

Hell.

The dinner with the Parks was hell.

It was so fucking awkward you'd rather die because why on the damnest reason is he the husband, out of all people?

You had to act like everything was okay. The steak was delicious, the wine was magnificent, heck the interior of their home is superb except for the man of the house.

The relief is close, you'll be free from the restraints soon. You just have to hold it in.

"You are such a sweet lady!" Mrs. Park giggles on the sofa, clearly about to pass out because of the amount of the wine she consumed.

"Thank you for accommodating me tonight." you managed to give her a small smile, even if she can't see it, bidding them goodbye but then you went rigid when the wife sputtered her next sentence.

"Jongseong, would you be a dear and assist our guest on her way home."

You interjected, not wanting to spend more minutes breathing the same air as him, "Oh no, it's fine! I literally live right t-"

"I insist." the male voices out in a firm manner, leaving no arguments.

The older woman waves you two off, flumping onto the sofa to rest, and the hell part two begins.

It was quiet, no one dared to say a word until you reached the front of your house, and Jay has never been a man with a stitched mouth.

"It's good to see you again.. well, not like this but.." he trails off, finding the right words is difficult at the moment.

"It is," you turn on your heels to face him, "and it's good to know that you're living the best life."

He bites his lower lip, deliberating whether to explain himself to you or not, ultimately choosing the former.

"We were forced into marriage, just a few weeks ago."

Well, good to know that you weren't the other woman in the picture. That doesn't make the pain any less, though you are ready to put on your big girl pants.

Dead set on being mature in the situation, make your guardian angels proud of you once in a while.

"Jay, it's okay." you murmur, taking his cold hands in your warm ones, "Whatever happened there, stays there. Goodnight."

You didn't give him the chance to reply because if you hear his voice, you think you'll make a mistake that you'll regret later on.

Slumping down on your wooden door, a thud came out of it, you have to pull yourself together.

One day, greeting Jay while getting your mails would be possible. Chatting with him about the weather will be child's play. Watching his wife tend to their garden would be a daily scenery that you wouldn’t mind one bit.

Jay stayed outside of your home for a few more minutes, fighting his inner turmoil. The one that is urging him to be honest with you. The side of him that wants to explain everything after your fated meeting in the club. 

There were a lot of times where he tried calling you, but no courage came to him, the fear of your rejection was far stronger than any forces out there. 

You will never know how Jay loved you during that everlasting 2 weeks, and he will never know how your feelings for him lay waste in your heart.

taglist:

@ramenoil @shakalakaboomboo

[taexoxosgf]

seeing brother’s best friend!jisung after three years

goes with the one-shot : do it again

— decided to post other parts of the full fic in blurbs/drabbles! i was cringing rlly bad rereading so i might tweak some parts

“Y/n?”

Expecting your brother, you’re face-to-face with Jisung. Your brother’s best friend.

While your older brother decided to attend college near home, Jisung studied abroad in Europe. You hadn’t heard from him in three years. It was almost as if he disappeared from existence, but, you think again. He shouldn’t hinder your thoughts because he isn’t your best friend, he is your brother’s– a person who did not owe you an explanation, a call, or anything, really.

“Jisung... What a pleasant surprise,” you blurted out, hoping to avert from your surprised expression.

The smirk that adorned his face gave notice of a new piercing at the corner of his lips. You just then realize how different he looks at first glance. Of course, his growth from adolescence was during high school and you had taken notice. But standing in front of you in the current time, he looks like the same Jisung you knew but maybe a tad taller, sporting tighter clothing, and toned arms– your eyes eventually travel down to his fingertips where you notice thick rings and a flashy tennis bracelet. And his hair. In high school, Jisung repeatedly destroyed his hair with bleach, occasionally adding some ginger or pink into the mix. But now, it returned to the original charcoal black color you always tried to persuade him to re-try.

“You’re staring,” he teases, resting an arm against the door frame.

God, he’s hot. This is so not good for your mental health.

“Just was expecting Taeyong. Caught me off guard,” you cross your arms.

Jisung rolls his eyes, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “You’re saying you look at Ty like that? I gotta tell him to stay away from you,” he jokes.

“Shut up, you’re disgusting,” you grimace.

“Actually, I think calling professionals will solve this problem,” he pulls out his phone, pretending to dial a number.

“You’re so annoying. Gimme that before I smack you with it,” You hurdle forward to grab the phone, but he beats you to it, holding it behind his figure. At the door frame now, shoulder to shoulder with Jisung– You’re a lot closer to him than you realized, slightly tilting your head up to look at him, and he merely looks down at you.

You really couldn’t move your feet. Both of you just stay in that position, unable to break the ice.

After what feels like a million light years, Jisung is the first one to slice through the silence.

“It’s been a while huh?”

It’s so sudden, like a smack in the face. Of course, it’s been long. But did he just notice? Did he just remember that his best friend has a sister he used to know? There’s a weird feeling in your chest at the statement because something that you occasionally reminisce about is just background noise in his life.

You just nod. “Yeah, it has.”

“I would lie and say you look the same as when I left but you look different,” he says as his low tone fills the air. Jisung only stares at you with a gaze you can’t quite comprehend. You don’t recall him ever looking at you this way.

You tilt your head to the side slightly and crinkle your eyebrows in an attempt to understand the curveball he had just thrown.

“Well, I hope that’s a good thing. If you’re here to insult me after three years, then you have something comin’ for you Park.”

“It is,” his orbs flicker around your face.

The silence is too uncomfortable for you to handle and the only excuse you can think of is: “It’s nice seeing you again Jisung, but I need you to start getting the boxes out of my car while I say hi to my parents and Taeyong.”

“Wow,” he chuckles. “It's been three years and the first thing you do is boss me around. I can’t say I haven’t missed that,” he says as he brushes past you in the doorway.

“Oh, are you saying you missed me?” you cross your arms once more, turning around to look at him.

He opens the driver door, crossing his arms against his chest before leaning against the car.

“You have no idea.”

[bekaroth-reads]

Baldur’s Gate’s 3 Characters x Reader/Tav Misunderstanding

[This is basically the situation of, “As my partner-“ “Wait, we’re partners?!” Might add more characters later. Proof read but quickly. Sorry if there are mistakes]

Astarion- The two of you were planning out a way to get into a tomb that had some sort of artifact that Astarion insisted was important. “Important,” was, in fact, the only thing that he was using to describe it. This was something that was causing the most problems as you didn’t want to go through the danger of it all for something that might have been nothing more than entertainment for him. When you tried to ask him to give you more details, he snidely scolded, “Listen, as your partner-“

“I’m your partner?!” You interrupt before he could say more.

Immediately, he covered his mouth and his cheeks with his hand, embarrassment flooding in after what he had just said as he turned away. While he could usually recover from almost anything, this struck the line of being too intimate for him to handle. In fact, you were both so flustered and embarrassed from the whole thing that you had to push the planning of everything for the excursion at least a week out. It’s hard to plan adventures when you can’t even look the other person in the eye.

Gale- He thought that you were overworking yourself; and, if Gale Dekarios of all people thought someone was overworking, then it was pretty bad. Then again, you were important to him, so he was also inclined to mother-hen over everything you did. When he thought the time was right, he pulled you aside to gently scold, “I know this is very important. But, as your partner, I must insist-“

“We’re partners?!” You exclaim.

He felt awful as he sees this as him trying to force you into a relationship that you might not have wanted. And, given his history with Mystra, it makes him feel like he has taken on her role, and it makes him nauseous. You will need to take some time to get him to understand it was simply a misunderstanding and that you do want to have a relationship with him.

Raphael- He insisted on taking you to find, “better,” clothing. When you got over the initial insult of the indication that your current choice in clothes was bad, you questioned why he was so adamant on doing so.

“Because, I am a public figure. I cannot have my partner-“ He started to explain before you interrupted,

“I’m your partner?!”

This seemed to entertained him to no end. “Why of course, Little Mouse. Hurry along now.” He hummed as he gave you a tap on the nose before ushering your stunned self out the door.

Haarlep- The two of you finally had an evening to yourselves. They were sitting on the end of your bed in a soft nightshirt, reading a book. It wasn’t even that they were expressly interested in the book, but between all of the scheming with Raphael and succubus work, they couldn’t remember the last time that they had the chance to do something so simple as reading. They gave a contented sigh as they lied back, their horns bumping against your legs where you were sitting farther up on the bed. Without much thought, they sighed, “I am so glad that you are mine.”

“Wait! Are we… partners? Actual partners?” You question in surprise.

They put down their book and turned themselves to lie on their stomach so that they could look at you with gleaming eyes, your reaction seemingly tickling them.

“Well, of course! I’m never this relaxed with anyone but you.” They sat up a bit and motioned to what they had on. “I mean- just look at me! I even put clothes on for you! That’s not something that happens everyday, my sweet.”

Gortash- To say things were tense would be an understatement. Enver Gortash and you had tried to kill each other about a month ago, and you were both nearly successful. It had taken you these past three weeks to heal, and the whole time the both of you were sure the other was going to try to sweep in at any moment and finish the job. Or, you were, and it didn’t take too much imagination to see his situation as the same. You were both in a similar state when your respective parties had broken up your fight.

Now you found out that you would have to work with him publicly for a time. It wasn’t something that you were looking forward to, but it was necessary to get answers for certain things and create opportunities for your team. You were in the hall that this party was being held at; it was nothing fancy, no dancing, no meal- just a simple gathering for some of the upper class to speak with each other and perhaps have a few drinks. You were beyond surprised when Gortash connected eyes with you and instead of an angry or begrudging response, he greeted you with one of the brightest smiles you had ever seen on the man.

“There they are now! The person of the hour!” He walked over to you and wrapped an arm around your waist. There were some compliments and coos of how darling you both looked together, and how you must have been a great match. Soon after the group walked away to give you two a few moments of privacy.

“You said that we were a couple?” You whisper-yelled at him.

“Of course. Because we are.” He whispered back as he leaned closer to purr into your ear, “We did almost kill each other after all.” Gortash gave you a peck on the cheek before moving you both to mingle with the other little groups of people around the room.

[meazalykov]

soft spot

esmee brugts x uswnt x sensitive!reader

a hurt reader starts to feel a soft spot for a girl, even if she tries to fight it.

part one

warnings: angst, mentions of betrayal, reader being an Ahole for the first part.

Y/n had spent months preparing for the World Cup 2023 in Australia. As a player for Chelsea, she was no stranger to pressure. But nothing could have prepared y/n for the emotional whirlwind that will hit her. 

Jane, her girlfriend of three years, had called her to talk. Y/n, despite ignoring her girlfriend due to latest rumors, had expected a heartfelt farewell, some last-minute words of encouragement, maybe even a promise to watch every game and cheer her on from afar. Any reassurance that their relationship was good.

Instead, Jane dropped a bombshell. 

"I don't think things are working out between us," she said, her voice devoid of the warmth Y/n had grown to love. 

“Wait what?” Y/n’s mumbled as she processed her girlfriend's words. 

"It's hard with you being away all the time, playing for Chelsea.” 

“You said that wasn’t a problem?” Y/n was confused at her girlfriend's words. At the age of 17, y/n forfeited her college eligibility in the United States to play for the youth academy at Chelsea. She had to leave her new girlfriend in the process, but Jane encouraged her to go live her dreams. Why did she change? 

“Yeah but-” 

“Jane, I feel like you’re lying to me.” Y/n admitted. Over the last few weeks, the footballer had friends questioning Jane’s loyalty in their relationship. The twenty year old woman had a feeling that Jane was emotionally cheating on her with another mutual friend of theirs, Ashlyn.

“I-I’m not.” 

“Sure–whatever.” 

“Ever since you’ve moved away to London, we’ve barely had time to see each other. I’m sorry— I still love you–but this isn’t working out.” Jane spoke softly. 

“Okay, fine.” Y/n hung up the phone as she noticed the tears coming down her bright (color) eyes. She knew Jane was lying which made the pain more excruciating. 

Those words from Jane repeated in Y/n’s mind for days. She had known Jane found the distance challenging, but she never thought it would come to this. She felt her heart shatter into a thousand pieces, the betrayal amplified since Jane had found solace in Ashlyn, someone Y/n had never suspected could be a threat to their relationship. Ashlyn was a college BIOMED student who spent her time in her books— just like Jane. oh. 

Two days later, Y/n boarded the flight to Australia, her mind a storm of emotions. She tried to focus on the upcoming matches, the strategies, the training sessions, but Jane's words echoed in her head. 

“Hey, what's the matter?” Y/n took her airpod out of her left ear when she noticed her team captain, Alex Morgan, sitting beside her in the business class seat. 

Originally, Emily Fox was supposed to sit beside Y/n, but Emily figured that Alex would’ve been better at figuring out what was wrong with the American right winger. 

“Nothing.” Y/n mumbled, giving a light smile, hoping that Alex would be reassured by that. 

“Well– the dry tears on your cheeks doesn’t make your situation sound like nothing.” Alex said. Y/n always had the strength to speak up about her emotions when she needed to, what could’ve happened? Why is she secretive and independent now? 

The image of Jane and Ashlyn together gnawed at Y/n as she looked at Alex. This filled her with a cold, bitter resolve. If Jane had left her for someone else, Y/n would channel that pain into her performance on the field. However, she didn’t want to open up about it yet. 

“Once I process this, I’ll tell you what's wrong– okay?” Y/n smiled as her eyes began to gain moisture. Alex frowned before hugging the girl fourteen years her senior. Alex knew she couldn't force Y/n to speak up, unless her emotions started to affect the team chemistry.

 

As the World Cup kicked off, Y/n's teammates noticed a stark change in her demeanor. Gone was the cheerful, happy, approachable player they knew; in her place was someone with a steely gaze and an edge to her play that could’ve been described as ruthless. 

In their opening match against Vietnam, this new Y/n was on full display. In the tenth minute, she already side tackled two vietnamese players. This was not her playstyle. Usually, she will take the ball with her feet without needing to take extreme measures. As the game continued on, the number 17 player played with an intensity that was both impressive and alarming, her tackles hard and her determination fierce. Fans were impressed by the forward having defensive approaches, but were concerned once her aggressiveness showed. 

Midway through the second half. Y/n was tackled onto the ground by the Vietnamese left back. Jane couldn't get out of her head during the match, which pissed Y/n off.  During her goal in the 45 + 7’ minute, y/n’s heart fell into her stomach when she realized that she couldn’t do her usual “J” symbol as her celebration anymore. Jane was another girl’s girlfriend now. 

Seeing Jane and Ashlyn in her mind, Y/n stood up at the left-back who didn’t back up from the challenge. Normally composed, Y/n lost her cool and pushed the player to the ground. Y/n had no emotion when the ref flashed her a yellow card. The Vietnamese player, who looked up at the star player, was visibly confused. She stared at y/n in shock as the referee intervened.

The crowd murmured, “What is going on with Y/n L/n in this match? 

The commentators speculated, “It looks like Y/n L/n is playing with her emotions tonight, which is shocking since she's known as one of the more “contained” and “emotionally mature” players on the team at just the age of twenty.” 

Her USWNT teammates exchanged worried glances on the pitch and the bench. Lynn Williams, y/n’s older friend, pulled her to the side and asked “What were you thinking?” to which Y/n shrugged. 

Y/n didn't care about her actions. Her heart was cold, and all she could think about was proving to herself, to Jane, and to everyone watching that she didn't need anyone's pity or concern. Even if they weren't aware of the problem. 

As the match ended, Y/n walked off the pitch with her head held high since she scored and won against Vietnam, but inside, the turmoil raged on. She knew that she had to keep her emotions in check if she wanted to help her team get the World Cup for the third time in a row, but the betrayal by her Ex wasn’t forgotten. 

Lindsey did confront Y/n on her actions, considering that this is Y/n’s first ever yellow card in an International competition. However, y/n brushed it off as being mad about being tackled to the ground. The blonde debuted her reasoning but proceeded to focus on the next group stage match, 

The Netherlands. 

Despite her best efforts to calm her stormy emotions by meditating, going on walks in the Australian weather, and listening to motivational podcasts— the betrayal Y/n felt from Jane's infidelity still burned hot within her.

When the game against the Netherlands started Y/n's aggression was palpable. In the third minute, Y/n pushed Danielle Van, but was excused since it looked as if she was getting the ball. Alex, Lindsey, and Vlatko were nervous each time they saw their star forward clash with an Oranje player.  

Everyone noticed the increased speed that y/n gained when she gained possession of the ball. Y/n ran the ball up the pitch before passing to Alex Morgan, who failed to shoot the ball since the Dutch goalkeeper grabbed it inside the box on time. 

Five minutes later, the same thing happened again. Y/n gained possession of the ball and dribbled her way up the field. 

It wasn't long before her path crossed with Esmee Brugts, #22 on the Dutch National team. Y/n had known of Esmee through social media; they'd followed each other for a while, a year to be exact. The girl didn’t remember how or why but everyone seems to know of each other in this community. 

Y/n would’ve been lying if she said that she didn’t find Esmee attractive currently. The way Esmee effortlessly moved the ball made y/n concentrated on getting the ball from her. However, y/n’s current emotional state made it hard to think of anything beyond the match at hand—and her ex.

During a particularly intense moment in the game, Esmee and Y/n collided. Esmee's shove sent Y/n sprawling to the ground, her face painfully meeting the grass. At first y/n was shocked, looking up to see a standing Esmee who looked forward at the ball who Lindsey Horan gained possession of.

The sudden flare of pain in y/n’s jaw triggered a surge of anger as she was still on the ground– Jane's betrayal flashed through Y/n's mind as the pain got worse. Y/n, not thinking rationally, sprang to her feet, her emotions boiling over as she ran to confront Esmee.

"What is wrong with you?" Y/n shouted, her voice trembling with rage. "She can't do that?!!! That should’ve been a yellow??” Y/n looked over at the assistant referee who didn’t have much to say.

"I wasn't trying to hurt you-"

"Shut up!-- What were you trying to do to me then?" Y/n cuts the dutch #22 player off.

Esmee, taken aback by the loudness of Y/n's outburst, tried to explain more, but Y/n's anger was already spiraling out of control. The Dutch girl knew of Y/n through social media, they’ve had a few mutual friends who described Y/n as a sweet and matured girl. Y/n was someone different here. 

The confrontation quickly drew the attention of players and officials alike, and it took several of Y/n's teammates to pull her away from Esmee as she continued to misplace her anger on the girl with braids. 

The referee, seeing the situation escalating, issued a warning. At the same time Vlatko made the swift decision to substitute Y/n L/n out for Trinity Rodman, before she got a second yellow.

As Y/n sat on the bench, her mind raced. In another place, American commentators speculated on her uncharacteristic aggression, 

“Looks like an altercation happened on the pitch between United States star Y/n L/n and Dutch star Esmee Brugts.” 

“Well– I wouldn't consider that a full altercation. Y/n was the one who had a problem with Esmee’s challenge.” 

“Yeah, for sure, it looked one sided. I wonder if something is wrong with Y/n that the team is starting to notice. She’s played in 23 international matches so far in her career and it seems like the World Cup brought out some new emotions for the young star.” 

After the game, the team captains, Alex Morgan and Lindsey Horan, pulled Y/n aside into a private room. Y/n was intimidated by their strict demeanors as they sat her on a blue bench in an all white room. The captains saw enough to know that something deeper was troubling their teammate.

"Y/n, we need to talk," Alex said gently. 

"We do. We know that there’s something wrong— What's going on with you?" Lindsey said. 

Y/n hesitated, the idea of vulnerability after being cheated on caused genuine fear in the girl’s eyes. 

Lindsey noticed this, but as the captain she needed to know how to fix her teammate. “We aren’t leaving this room until we have an idea on what's wrong. We are here for you and want to help you– so please tell us what’s wrong.” 

The concern in her captain's eyes broke through y/n’s emotional shields. 

“S-Sh-um–She cheated.” Y/n mumbled out as tears poured down her dimpled cheeks. 

“What?” Alex questioned. She looked over at her fellow captain, Lindsey, who was just as confused. 

“Jane lef-lef-left me for her.” The floodgates poured down Y/n’s eyes at this point. 

“Jane left you for who, sweetheart?” Alex said as she went to hug Y/n. Lindsey got on her knees in front of y/n, comforting her as she felt pain from seeing her favorite young forward hurt. They knew who Jane was, but never met her throughout Y/n’s three year relationship. 

“Jane left me for Ashlyn. She said she was tired of me being away in England and that we weren’t working out.” Y/n sobbed on Alex’s shoulder. 

“Honey, I am so sorry. Why didn’t you tell us this before, we could’ve helped you.” Alex’s maternal instincts kick in as she sees y/n so broken, so hurt. Y/n was known to be the happiest, most emotionally mature, and a bright light on the team. Everyone seeing her so aggressive last week caused shock among the captains. They understand what’s wrong now. 

“It happened before we left to come here. Wh-What did I do wrong?” Y/n continued to sob. 

“Nothing, you did nothing wrong. You didn’t deserve that.” Lindsey said. 

Y/n confessed everything about Jane's betrayal, the pain that had consumed her, and how it had affected her gameplay. 

“Why did I lash out at Esmee like that too? Her of all people?? What the fuck?? I feel like I am a piece of shit!” Y/n says five minutes later as she processed the moments of today’s game. Tears continued to stream down her puffy face as she admitted how guilty she felt about lashing out at Esmee Brugts.

“She will be okay, y/n. You can apologize later, but we still need to help you with your problems about your ex.” Lindsey softly says. 

"You can't let Jane or that situation destroy you. We're here for you, and we'll help you through this." Alex whispered in Y/n’s ear, which warmed the cold heart in her body.

The tournament continued, but the USWNT's journey ended in the round of 16 with a loss to Sweden. Y/n's performance had improved, but her heart wasn't fully in the game. She made one of the penalties against Sweden, but it wasn’t enough. 

The World Cup ended in disappointment but y/n’s advanced technical skills and goal scoring abilities gained her a new opportunity– Barcelona Femení contacted her and approached her with an offer. Eager for a fresh start, Y/n accepted and moved away from London, hoping that the new memories will help her healing journey. 

(pretend you're sam kerr below)

wosonews

BREAKING 🚨 | FC Barcelona Femeni have completed the signing of Y/n L/n from Chelsea on a 4-year deal 💙❤️

comments

wosowbbfan she's a striker that barcelona needs 🥲 I will miss her ❤️

y/nl/n17_ seeing her and alexia putellas talking after the champions league semi game last season, I suspected this might've happened 😧

indigoblue578 isn't Esmee Brugts almost ready to sign for barcelona too? 👀😬

kerrfan yes esmee will if she doesn't go to arsenal. I'm positive y/n apologized to esmee for what happened at the World Cup ☺️

Indigoblue578 @/kerrfan yeah y/n is a sweetheart, I'm positive the thing with Jane Holland is what caused her to be so emotional during the world cup 🙁

kerrfan @/indigoblue578 I agree

Portthorns9378 She's never going to the NWSL is she? 😭

Barcahive the first American in Barcelona lets goooo 🙌

--

On the first day at training with Barcelona, days before they’re supposed to go to Mexico for a friendly game, Y/n's past summer collided with her present. As she walked into the dressing room, she saw Esmee Brugts, now a teammate. Y/n's heart sank with guilt as she recalled their confrontation back in Australia. 

Meeting most of the team days prior, y/n knew that she was in a comfortable spot and didn’t want to make things awkward or tense. That is not a good look for your first season at the catalan club where most of the girls consider each other a family.

Thankfully, Ingrid Engen noticed the tense look on y/n’s face as she tied her ivory colored cleats. Ingrid had always been perceptive, and she could tell something was bothering someone. Even with y/n who is new to the club. Ingrid walked over and sat beside the younger girl.

“Hey, (reader’s nickname)... is everything alright?” Ingrid placed a hand on the twenty year old’s shoulder. Y/n sighed as she looked around the dressing room, wondering if it was the right time to speak to her mind. Noticing that some people already left to head out on the pitch for training, including Esmee, y/n didn’t see the harm in telling Ingrid what's wrong. She hoped that speaking up would bring some peace to the situation. 

“It’s about Esmee– At the world cup I went off on Esmee over a challenge we had together on the pitch. This was after my ex cheated on me so I misplaced my anger on some people, including Esmee.” y/n sighed. 

“After finding out that Esmee was joining Barcelona this season I felt more guilt than before— I wanted to reach out on instagram to apologize but I didn’t– I don’t know— I – I just feel so bad.” Y/n continued as she whispered to Ingrid. 

Y/n sat in the dressing room, her mind racing. She knew she had to apologize to Esmee for the sake of team chemistry. Luckily, not many on the team knew about what happened during the Netherlands vs United States match, but still— y/n didn't know how to approach Esmee without the other girls around. The memory of her outburst still haunted her, and despite Esmee's seemingly friendly demeanor, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that was on her.

As she sat there, lost in thought, Ingrid wraps her arms around y/n shoulders which she relaxes into after a few seconds. Y/n is still getting used to the physical affection that europeans show to each other on a normal basis. 

"I remember that. You were going through a tough time, and it got the best of you. Have you thought about when you want to talk to her?" Ingrid nodded, understanding.

"I have, but every time I try to find the right moment, I just freeze up," Y/n confessed. "I feel like it would be more genuine if I did it myself, but I don't know how she'll react."

Ingrid offered a reassuring smile. "Esmee doesn't hate you, Y/n. She's not the type to hold grudges. Besides, she probably doesn't even think about it anymore. The World Cup ended in a Spanish victory anyways, and everyone's moved on."

"Maybe," Y/n said, uncertainty still clouding her voice. "But I can't move on until I make things right with her."

"Do you want Ale and I to help you?" Ingrid offered. "We can be there for support or even help you set up a time to talk."

Y/n shook her head, a small smile forming. "Thanks, Ingrid, but I think I need to do this on my own. It needs to come from me, and it needs to be genuine."

Ingrid squeezed Y/n's shoulder. "I get it. Just remember, Esmee is a kind person. She won’t brush you off or hold what you did against you. She'll understand. You've got this, Y/n. And if you need to talk afterward, I’m here."

Y/n took a deep breath, feeling a bit more confident with Ingrid's reassurance. "Thanks, Ingrid. I appreciate you."

"Anytime," Ingrid said, standing up. "Now, let's go train and see if you can talk to her after– okay?” The Norwegian took the American's hands and pulled her up from the dressing room bench.

Y/n nodded, determination filling her. She stood up and headed out of the dressing room, ready to go train before going to Mexico with the team tomorrow morning. 

As she headed closer to the door, she spots Esmee in the hallway talking to Bruna and Jana. Y/n felt herself freeze up at first, but fought against herself and approached the group of girls.

"Esmee, can I talk to you for a minute?" Y/n asked, her voice steady despite her nerves. Jana and Bruna smiled at Y/n in understanding before heading outside to the pitch. Training isn’t supposed to start for another five minutes so she hopes she can fit her apology in this time. 

Esmee turned, her expression curious. "Of course, Y/n. What's up?"

Y/n gestured to a quieter corner of the hallway. She didn’t want anyone eavesdropping, as she understood that some of the young La Masia girls loved to do that sometimes. 

"I need to talk to you about what happened during the World Cup---um--- I need to apologize."

Esmee's eyes softened as she followed Y/n. "You don't have to apologize about that, Y/n. I understand you were going through a tough time."

"No, I do need to," Y/n insisted. "I was out of line, and I took my anger out on you. You were playing the game and I couldn’t handle my emotions. It wasn't fair to you, and I'm really sorry."

Esmee smiled warmly. "Thank you, Y/n. It means a lot that you came to talk to me. But really, it's in the past.” 

“I know but I just couldn’t move on until I told you how sorry I am. I’ve moved on from my ex, who caused the outburst, and the World Cup itself– but I just had to apologize to you.” Y/n gave a light smile.  

“I appreciate that a lot. But let's just start over, okay?" 

Y/n felt a wave of relief wash over her. "Okay. "

---

part two here

<3

[luvymelody]

NAME : karasuno team , haikyuu!!

SONG : old love , yuji + putri dahlia

SUMMARY : the second years have been complaining about finding suitable jobs for themselves. so ukai says that everyone can take turns working at his store for experience in a retail job. who knew that someone would be coming daily? wc : 1.8k

y/n slipped her shoes on, putting their hat on their hat just above her eyebrows as she zipped up her jacket.

“can you get me that one ice cream!”

her brother yelled from his room, popping his head from his door to look at the girl who was about to leave the house.

“don’t get your brother that ice cream! eating ice cream this late will get you sick!”

“ma please!”

y/n left the house, shutting the door behind her as the last thing she heard was her brother pleading their mother for ice cream.

y/n originally was gonna go buy food from the convenience store a few streets down, but she took a small shortcut to it, finding a new convenience store she’s never seen before.

‘ohh maybe i should start going here..’

y/n thought in her head, walking inside the store as she looked at the cashier. he looked about her age, orange hair, doing his homework at the counter, there was also another one, a blonde wearing glasses while he pointed at the paper.

the orange haired boy looked up, hearing the door open and stood up from his chair and greeted the girl. the blonde boy just looked up, nodding his head at her.

“hello!”

“hi..”

y/n smiled at the boy, then put her head down, turning to look around the store to see if there’s that one ice cream her brother liked.

she lifted her hat up a little bit to gather food, holding it in her hands. she got an instant bowl of ramen, onigiri, ice cream for her and her brother and two drinks.

y/n went up to the counter, the boy was doing his homework while the blondie was stood up, pushing the smaller boy away from the front of the register.

“is that all for today?”

“yeah. thank you.”

y/n thanked, nodding her head as she opened her hand bag, trying to find her wallet. the blonde boy looked up at the girl’s hat, admiring her white hat, it was a brand he liked.

“nice hat.”

“thanks- how much?”

“2,910 yen.”

y/n handed him three thousand yen bills and waited for her change, her eyes trailing down to the smaller boy and his worksheet.

“the answer’s 7.”

she said, looking up at his face as he stared up at her in amazement.

“sorry-”

“really?! ha! she figured it out before you, stingyshima!”

“hah? what did you call me?”

“stingyshima! sorry, can you explain it to me?”

y/n blinked as the orange haired boy looked at the girl as the blonde haired boy glared at the small one, then started to bag her food.

"oh, sure. so-"

y/n explained it to him, the cashier placed her bag of food on the counter infront of her, looking between the two as he also started listening, understanding the problem.

"wahh! you're so smart! i'm shoyo hinata!"

"i'm y/n l/n, you are?"

y/n looked up at the other boy, who grumbled then introduced himself.

"kei tsukishima."

"it's nice to meet you-"

a buzzing was heard in y/n's pocket, y/n took it out, placing it against her ear.

"moshi moshi? sorry, it was really nice to meet you!"

y/n greeted the person in her phone, grabbing the bag and waving to tsukishima and hinata as hinata waved back excited, while tsukishima nodded at her. she exited the store, disappearing out of their sight.

"yeah, i'm coming. no i went to another store-"

-

the next day, it was practice, so the boys started changing in the club room, hinata was struggling to take his shirt off, tsukishima making fun of him as he laughed at pointed.

“hey hey! tsukishima, hinata, how was work?”

tanaka exclaimed, an arm over both of their shoulders once hinata finally took his shirt off.

“easy.”

“so good! we also saw this pretty girl- so pretty- hurts my soul.”

“well, there’s no one prettier than our goddess, kiyoko!”

“no dude..”

hinata said, then leaning in.

“she’s on par with kiyoko.. so pretty, i’m not joking!”

tanaka raised his eyebrow dramatically, tsukishima shrugging his arm off his shoulder and putting his shirt on. tanaka whipped his head to tsukishima.

“was the girl you saw… pretty?”

tanaka paused for a second, leaning into tsukishima closer so tsukishima got frightened, taking a step back.

“i don’t know?”

“ugh! you were probably going crazy, hinata!”

“what’s going on?”

nishinoya said, walking into the club room being a little late.

“can you believe that hinata thinks he saw a girl prettier than kiyoko?”

“what?!”

nishinoya exclaimed, dropping his bag and chasing hinata around the room until daichi grabbed them by the collars and forced them to run laps.

-

“no! bakayama- she was sooo pretty! tell me if you see her!”

hinata whined, standing infront of the counter which kageyama was behind. kageyama’s arms were crossed and hinata’s hand were on his hips.

“no.”

“whyyy?”

hinata glared, tsukishima walked up behind him after getting food from the store with yamaguchi, then hitting hinata on the back of the head then.

“ow!”

“let’s go, pipsqueak.”

that night, kageyama and sugawara were working together. coach ukai thought that kageyama would scare customers off, so sugawara could be a face that people could rely on.

“let’s work hard, kageyama!”

sugawara said determined, his fists in the air clenched in determination while kageyama matched him.

“hai.”

-

“get me this again?”

y/n’s brother asked, his hands clasped together as y/n narrowed her eyes at her brother.

“get it yourself.”

“nooo! come on, y/n!”

“you go!”

y/n turned around, starting to walk back to here room, then her brother called out in hurry,

“i’ll give you money-“

suddenly, y/n was infront if her brother, hand stretched out waiting.

-

y/n entered the shop, seeing only one person at the counter, a black haired boy who nodded his head at her.

‘like tsukishima?’

y/n thought, then turning to find the onigiri.

for some reason, they had moved it to the top shelf when literally yesterday night it was at the midsection. y/n grimaced, stretching her arm up to try a grab a hold of the onigiri. on her tippy toes, she reached high as she held the shelf near her head for balance.

‘who the hell put it so high-?’

then, a hand went up, grabbing the onigiri and being held infront of her. y/n went flat on her feet, following the arm to the person right behind her.

“is this the one you wanted?”

he asked politely, y/n blinked, then grabbing the onigiri out of his hands.

“oh yeah, thank you..”

‘is this the pretty girl hinata was talking about? she is pretty..’

the grey haired boy thought, smiling at y/n.

-

“she was wearing a black hoodie, a white hat- wait what’s the name.. tsukishima! what was the brand?!”

“(insert random brand).”

“yeah! and she had h/c coloured hair. so pretty!”

“shut up about that girl!”

“why are you so rude, bakayama!?”

-

"is there anything else you need help with?"

the grey haired boy asked, gesturing to the top shelves that y/n couldn't reach. y/n nervously smiled, covering her mouth in embarrassment.

"could you also, get the one next to it?"

y/n pointed up as the boy looked up, picking it and holding it for the girl.

"i'll bring these to the front counter."

he smiled, bowed and walked away as y/n quickly followed, placing her things down on the counter infront of the two boys.

"you scan everything and tell her the price after, kageyama."

the grey haired one muttered to the boy as 'kageyama' nodded quickly, sliding them to the other as he bagged everything. y/n didn't hear, looking around the store to avoid awkwardly stnaidng there and waiting.

"that'll be- 1,922 yen."

kageyama said stiffly, but y/n just nodded, picking money out of her wallet.

"see! you're a natural."

the grey haired boy whispered to kageyama, bumping his shoulder as kageyama was surprised, holding his shoulder as the other slid the bag infront of the girl as she handed kageyama two thousand yen bills.

y/n waited for a change, even though it only took a few seconds, y/n could swear she saw the black haired kid before, something was familiar about him.

"thank you."

y/n thanked, bowing and grabbing the bag and leaving the store.

"success!"

sugawara cheered, his hands in the air as kageyama nodded, lifting his arm slightly up to his chest.

-

"so, so?! did you see her!?"

hinata exclaimed, jumping and his hands smacking down on kageyama's shoulders as tsukishima, yamaguchi, sugawara, tanaka walked into the gym, waiting for the rest of the team.

"ow! boke- hinata!"

"the h/c haired girl?"

sugawara questioned, bouncing a ball on the floor to warm up,

"yeah!"

"oh, yeah we did. you're right, she was pretty cute."

"see tanaka-senpai!?"

hinata shouted, pointing at his upperclassmen, still a little petty about getting a beating from nishinoya and tanaka.

"until i see her with my own two eyes, kiyoko is my queen."

tanaka argued, pointing at hinata and then turning and launching a ball in hinata's direction as the orange haired boy yelped, dodging and running from tanaka.

"good thing it's your shift today, with noya."

sugawara said, catching the back of tanaka's collar to stop him as the shaved haired boy choked.

-

"and then suga said that hinata was right- and that she was cute! unbelievable!"

"what a traitor to our goddess kiyoko!"

the two were talking about the 'pretty girl' that sugawara and hinata kept talking about. the two kept talking, not hearing the front door open and two people came walking in.

"what are they on about?"

y/n's brother, tendou, asked, his hands shoved into his hoodie pockets.

"how am i supposed to know? c'mon satori."

y/n tugged her brother towards the ice cream section, him following behind her.

"wait shit customers came in"

nishinoya said, looking at the two who disappeared from their sight behind the aisles of food.

"shut up and act professional."

"you act professional- and you shut up!"

the two teenage boys argued with each other, then a bit later, hearing stuff being dumped on the counter, looking at the noise and seeing two people, a red haired boy and h/c coloured hair girl.

"hey, don't dump them on the counter.."

y/n murmured, hitting tendou on the arm as he winced, rubbing his arm.

"ow, that hurt y/n.."

"no way it did."

y/n and tendou conversed as tanaka and nishinoya started scanning the items, looking up a few times and then making eye contact with each other.

'shit, is that her?'

'they were right, she's so pretty..'

'are them two dating?'

they both thought as the same time as tanaka handed them their bag.

"4,958 yen- please.."

y/n turned her head towards tendou, as he looked back at her.

"pay asshole."

"i'm so nice to you and this is what i get?"

tendou rolled his eyes, placing money down on the counter.

"thank you- let's go."

"the change bro"

tendou left the store, bag in hand as y/n waited for the change. tanaka dropped the change into her hand, and then y/n smiled, bowing.

"thank you so much."

y/n turned, leaving the store and yelling at tendou. while tanaka and nishinoya turned to each other. nishinoya nearly silently said,

"shit, suga and shoyo were right.."

[sorrowsdespair]

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let Us In!

Warning: kidnapping, manipulation, isolation, probably ooc Taskforce 141, can be read as Yandere taskforce, not proofread

Prompt: Taskforce find You, a sheltered bunny, who saves and provides a place for them to stay. Can they convince you that they aren't as bad as your family makes the world out to be?

Taken at birth, you had lived with a twisted form of family. A mother that dresses you in pretty clothing to show off, a father would spoils you with items to distract you, a brother who babies you claiming that should always rely on him. Of course, you are never allowed to leave the house deep within the woods sometimes you can play outside in the garden with your brother if you're on your best behavior. Society is dangerous full of mean people who will take advantage of you especially when you become of age.

One day Mother, Father, and Big Brother left. They never came back you’re not sure how long it had been but they did tell you in case this happened there was money hidden away for you to use when food was low.

This is how you spent your next years, alone, only leaving your house to for food and ignoring people who try to talk with you. That was until on the way back, you come across a man slumped on the porch of your house.

Fear and curiosity consumed you as you drew closer to man. He’s eyes were closed and his chest was rising up and down. He was dressed in odd bulky vest and clothing with things strapped to it, and wearing a cap.

Father had told you to never get close to someone especially an unknown man due to the dangers they present. But from where you stand you can see blood seeping through his odd outfit and you remember a show where a little girl playing doctor helping toys who are hurt, you are rarely allowed to watch TV but it would be a secret for you to keep, since it’s the right thing to do besides Mother taught you how to bandages.

So with all your courage and lack of strength, you drag the man in by his armpits carefully placing him in front of the couch. You had left to place the groceries in the kitchen, quickly putting any freezer and fridge stuff away, and left to grab a medical box before returning to the man patching him up after struggling to remove the vest and shirt.

Price was stressed not only did their missing go awry, couldn’t get a heli to pick them up due to a storm rolling in an hour or so, but they all had gotten separate, additional Gaz gone radio silent a moment ago. Thankfully, He managed to regroup with Ghost and Soap.

When Gaz came around he was not expecting to see you over him and neither you did expect him to wake up. Gaz watches you let out a yelp and jump away from him your eyes widen in fear staring back at him.

It takes a lot of coaxing you into talking with him, even when you barely give him much other than your name, this was their parent's house, and you wanted to help him just like the Little girl playing doctor. Just as Gaz’s radio go off with the voice of Ghost call for him to which Gaz response being bombarded with question that he tries his best to answer.

All it was for Gaz to try and convince you to help guide his mates here from the raging storm, and I mean a lot of convincing because you kept cowarding away from him and shaking your head. Gaz didn't feel comfortable do this but he had mentioned how you to help him just like the doc and a doctor helps everyone.

That seemed to work and you told him how there were switches for spotlights outside to the right of the house. You had told him you were never allowed to touch them so he has to do so you don't get in trouble.

You watch as the man who introduced himself as Gaz leaves through the front door, and from the window you watch the lights shine through the night while Gaz moves to stand under the porch. Minutes go by as three figures make their way out from the trees.

Oh, what have you gotten yourself into?

[medical-anon-whau]

Heya!

@bleedingichorhearts @kit-williams @egrets-not-regrets @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

I've got another life update for everyone. Per suggestions, I was able to ask the Ultramarine how I should dress when meeting with the person in charge, and dressed accordingly, which was semi-formal. I had to run out real quick to get an appropriate pair of dress shoes before the meeting, but I managed alright.

I was rather surprised that Stalker did, in fact, show up to the meeting, but it'd definitely possible that they contacted him via Mysterious Astartes Methods. He accused me of a number of things, and here are the list of "charges"

1) aiding and abetting a "Fallen" Dark Angel

2) refusing to allow an Interrogator Chaplain to complete his sanctioned duties

3) defacing astartes armor (Jerk is still covered in glitter. I have the paint and glitter bombs on my person right now in case be pulls some more nonsense)

4) Colluding willingly with an Alpha Legionnaire to torment a Loyal Astartes

5) Distracting A Dark Angel during the course of his duties.

Now, I'm no law expert, but I figured he might pull some letitigous bullshit and have been doing some research on my own. I wasn't entirely sure what the Ultramarine Base Commander was going to say in response, but I pointed out that;

1) In the country that I am living in and so are they, the lawful government does not, to my knowledge, recognize the authority of Astartes Chaplains when it comes to crimes accused or actual committed by an astartes BEFORE THEY CAME TO EARTH

2) they did not involve local law enforcement before attempting to take the Fallen in question who has been the primary caretaker for a chronically ill and weakened human in good faith for the better part of a decade. I also got statements from both the human and their neighbors about the character of the Fallen and his daily activities, as well as from my patient's family

3) he has been harassing and willfully intimidating me with the intent to scare - which are both actual crimes - for over two months now. I have been keeping as accurate an account of each instance and brought a copy of that journal with me to the meeting (I have several copies of all the information I brought with me, in case Jerk tries anything. I also left this Intel with both Fallen and the Alpharii) for the base commander or whoever to read through at their convenience.

4) talking with other people who he's also deliberately antagonizing to try and get him to stop is not a crime, and the Alpha Legionnaire (I did not reveal that I know for a fact there are at least three of them in that house - more about the third Alpharius later) is concerned for the long term effects the stress of Jerk tormenting me will have on the care I'm able to provide to his sickly patient, and had suggestions on how to get Jerk to back off when I asked for them.

5) I JUST WANT HIM TO LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE AND STOP HARASSING FAMILY OF MY PATIENTS! JUST FUCK OFF!

Noooot that I deliberately cursed Jerk in front of the base commander. I almost cussed him out several times though. The giant fucker is tapdancing on my last nerve.

The base commander was quiet and seemed thoughtful at the gathered evidence I had provided for him. He began talking in a language I don't understand, and Jerk periodically answered back. He started getting agitated the longer the Mystery Talk went on.

A half hour of conversation I did not understand later and the base commander said that he was going to be restricting Ghaliel (Jerk's Actual Name, apparently) to base for the next month, and to report him if he breaks his restriction.

That was two days ago. So far, Jerk hasn't been trying to scare me... I was also able to speak with one of the Librarians after the meeting with the base commander.

Apparently, I have a weak bond with an astartes. I really hope it's with one of the Alpharii. They're fun, playful and caring.

Oh right! The third Alpharius!

I happened to stumble across all three of them whispering to each other, the day before I was gonna meet with the base commander, during my shift with their human family member. I'm pretty sure they did that on purpose, as alpharius number 3 handed me the last of the character testimonies I was hoping to get for Fallen in exchange for two glitter-paint bombs.

I don't want to k ow what he plans on doing with them, his cackling was terrifying.

[sitkowski]

just crash (it's our time now) - nicholas x ofc

pairing: nicholas ruffilo x cam (ofc) cw: ⚠️ 18+MDNI. warnings for angst, vaginal sex, fingering (f receiving), talk of birth control, praise kink of you squint. word count: 5.7k author's note: this is my first bad omens fic, hope ya'll enjoy! dedicated to all of the fantastic writers I've come to admire since starting back up with Tumblr again 🫶🏻 title comes from a You Me at Six song.

dividers by @saradika-graphics 🧡

According to the directions that the guy behind the counter had given her at the car rental place, she doesn’t have that far to go before she reaches the motel. The wipers squeak noisily against the windshield, and the hum of the radio can barely be heard above the steady downpour. She can just barely make out the red neon sign ahead of her.

Cam wonders, not for the first time, if this is the right thing to do.

Only she knows it is; he said the three magic words.Not I love you, but I need you. Three little words in a broken voice during a phone call she almost didn’t answer, and the next thing she knows she’s getting a plane ticket. She’s renting a car. She’s driving through the pouring rain in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere, Wyoming. Not just because he needs her but because she broke something and she needs to put it back together if she can.

The parking lot is surprisingly filled, but none of the vehicles look familiar to her. She parks in the first available spot, and pulls out her phone. Before she can even text him to let him know she’s there, a message pops into their chat chain, nothing but a room number. Cutting off the car, she realizes that she’s going to have to run through the rain. There’s a familiar hoodie in the passenger seat that she brought with her from home, faded and well worn and no longer smelling like the man who left it behind. She tugs it over her head before opening her door and getting out.

By the time she reaches the row of rooms on the other side of the stairwell, her clothes are soaked through. Her sneakers squelch with each step, and she ducks beneath the overhang and out of the rain. She raises her hand to knock on the door, but sees the curtains twitch. He knows she’s here, and she just stands there awkwardly until he opens the door.

She tries not to be moved by how exhausted he looks. But she always worries, it’s ingrained in her after such a long time. Even if she was the one who ended things, if she was the one who refused to bend. Beneath the exhaustion, she can see how grateful he is that she actually showed up.

“Where are the others?” she asks, in lieu of saying hello.

Nicholas steps aside to let her into the room, pressing the door closed again and Cam turns around to look at him, dripping water all over the carpet. He leans into the door. “Jolly and Folio are in a room upstairs, Matt and Noah are down the row.”

“Did you get a room by yourself just because I was coming? Optimistic of you, Nick.”

It’s mean and she knows it. She wants to take it back almost as soon as she’s said it.

“I’m the only one who didn’t catch the death flu,” he shrugs, seemingly unphased by her words. “We had to cancel two shows.”

Now Cam feels like even more of an asshole. She holds her arms out at her sides. “Shit Nicky, I’m so sorry. I—do you have, like a towel or something?”

He nods and slips around her into the bathroom. She takes off the hoodie and drapes it over one of the chairs at the small table, and toes off her shoes. They won’t be dry by morning. Movement beside her makes her turn, and Nicholas is there with a towel, as well as a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. She almost goes into the bathroom to change, but figures that’s pointless. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. When she takes off her wet t-shirt and jeans, he takes them for her. While he’s hanging them in the bathroom to drip dry, she puts on the offered clothes, using the towel to dry her hair and trying not to bury her face in the fabric of the shirt because it still smells like him.

Cam sits on the edge of the bed, tucking her hands between her knees. After a minute, he comes back out and sits down beside her. Just being this close to him again after the past few months makes her feel on edge. It’s not entirely a bad feeling. She almost jumps up from the bed when Nicholas reaches over and pushes her damp hair behind her ear.

“Thank you for coming,” he murmurs and she can’t help but look over at him. “You didn’t have to.”

“You said you needed me. I wasn’t going to say no.”

“You could have. I’m not your problem anymore, Camille.”

She doesn’t have an argument, because she was the one who left. She was the one who couldn’t handle getting serious and dating someone who had been her friend for so long before. Ending it was supposed to be a way for her to be able to salvage their friendship, but even months later things weren’t the same. Because she was still in love with him, and she thought coming here was going to be a way for her to either get over it or talk it out. She hadn’t let him talk it out before, she just left.

“You’re always going to be my problem, Nicholas.” Cam tentatively rests a hand on his back. “When’s the last time you slept? Like more than just a quick nap? Because I know you, and I know the canceled shows are keeping you up.” 

Nicholas sighs and rubs his eyes, shoulders hitching up in a shrug. “Yesterday, I think? The doctor cleared everyone but Matt still said we should take the weekend and rest instead of going out and doing stuff—”

“Lie back.” she insists.

When he looks at her in confusion, she rolls her eyes. It’s obvious that he needs to rest, and she isn’t going to take no for an answer. She watches as he finally relents and scoots back on the bed, practically falling back against the pillows in relief. Cam glances at the clock, it’s nearly midnight, and knowing that the others have been sick, she doesn’t want to text them just yet. She thinks that Nicholas has fallen asleep, but when she goes to turn off the bedside lamp for him, his hand reaches up to grasp her wrist.

“Where are you going? Lie down with me.”

Her original plan was just to get her own room for the night, but she stares down at him, and realizes that she can’t actually do that to him. Moving up the bed, she turns off the lamp and lays down beside him. Her body is taught with tension that melts away as the minutes pass. They lay in the darkness in silence, and Cam waits for him to speak again or try and hold her like he used to. She’d actually welcome that. But she hears his breathing even out beside her, and that’s what finally pulls her into sleep herself. She knows that this isn’t exactly what she came here for, but she promises herself she’ll tell him tomorrow.

Cam wakes up early enough that she can get her bag from her rental car and send a text to Matt before Nicholas wakes up. He’s still out cold, exhaustion taking its toll. She lets him sleep, but she’s barely put her phone down from texting Matt before another message comes through her phone. She sighs as she reads it, she knew it was coming. Putting on fresh clothes, she slips out of the motel room again and makes her way down the corridor.

Noah is waiting for her, because there was no way that she was just going to show up and not have to talk with him about this. In a way, Nicholas is his, and Cam broke his heart. If she wants to try to fix things with Nicholas, she has to go through him first.

“You don’t look like death at least,” she says with a smile, letting him pull her into a friendly hug. “How are you feeling?”

“Less like someone shoved a chainsaw down my throat.”

They walk around to the other side of the motel where there’s a little room off the office that’s meant to be a place to have breakfast. There’s a box of donuts, and a coffee machine. They get coffee, and go back outside to sit on a low brick wall nearby.

“So, he called you.” 

Cam sips her coffee, lets it burn the top of her tongue. It’s bitter. “He said he needed me, Noah.”

The scoff that he lets out is disbelieving, and she gets that. He was the one who picked up the pieces after she and Nicholas broke up. He was the one who told her that she was making a mistake. He’d been right.

“He’s been running himself ragged trying to make sure none of us actually died since he was the only one not sick. Thank you for coming to look after him.”

Noah says it as if it’s the least that Cam could do. And it probably is. “Noah, I’m sorry—”

“Nah, you and I sorted our shit out. We’re good, Camille.”

It’s as close as she’s going to get to a warm welcome, and she accepts it. She and Noah were never as close as she and Nicholas, but they were still friendly with one another. She hurt his best friend, of course he wasn’t going to have the best reaction to seeing her months later. It’s not until they’re headed back around the motel that she drops the bomb on him.

“I’m going to tell Nick that I want to work things out.”

Noah whirls around and steps closer to her, and Cam actually stumbles back a step. It’s not like he’s going to hurt her, but any friendliness from earlier is gone. He’s the one she’s got to get past if she wants to fix things, after all. And right now, the look on his face says it all.

“Why, so you can crush his heart again in four months when you can’t handle him getting too close?”

That hurts, but she knows he isn’t wrong. She wraps her arms around herself, looking towards the room where hopefully Nicholas is still sleeping. She doesn’t even know how the conversation will go. She doesn’t know if he actually wants to get back together. She could have nothing to fix.

“I love him, Noah. I never should have left.” she says, unable to keep her emotions out of her voice.

He gives her a look that is less wary than before, and Cam feels something loosen in her chest. “If you hurt him again, there won’t be a third chance, you get that right? You’ll be done.”

It’s on the tip of her tongue to tell him he doesn’t get to make that choice, but he still isn’t wrong. If she were to do something as stupid as run away again, none of them would ever speak to her again and she wouldn’t blame them one bit. But she doesn’t want to run.

“Look, if you want me to go because you don’t think I’m good enough for him—”

“Are you kidding? He’s been absolutely miserable without you, and he asked you to come here. I know you’re good enough for him, the two of you are just fucking stubborn. We don’t have to leave for two days, so fix your shit. I will get Matt to lock the two of you in that room if you don’t.”

Across the parking lot, the motel room door opens and Nicholas sticks his head out. Noah and Cam both look caught, and he rolls his eyes before ducking back inside.

Noah gives her a sympathetic look. “Have fun with that.”

“Go rest your voice, you still sound like shit.” she teases, giving him a little shove before turning and heading back towards the room.

Nicholas didn’t close the door all the way, and Cam pushes it open and steps inside, closing it back behind her.

“Nice chat with Noah?” he asks.

Coming over to the bed, she sits back down beside him. It’s hard to be this close to him and not think about the good times they had together. It’s hard not to think about the mistakes she made that put her here, feeling more awkward and shy than before they ever dated. 

“I knew the minute I called you to come he was going to corner you—”

“He didn’t corner me, he’s concerned about his best friend. After what I did, it’s understandable.” Cam says.

He slumps back on the mattress, tossing his arm over his eyes. “I’m not seventeen anymore, I don’t need him fighting my battles.”

She wants to roll her eyes at his overdramatics, especially because she remembers him at seventeen. But instead she just shuffles down the bed and lays beside him.

“We have a battle to fight?” she asks lightly.

Nicholas lifts his arm and turns on his side to look at her. She wants to look away, escape his gaze, but she can’t. And when he reaches over and curls his hand around the edge of her jaw, she feels tears well in her eyes for some reason.

“I miss you,” he whispers, and she feels herself crumbling. “You’re right here and I still miss you.”

Biting her bottom lip, Cam scoots a little closer to him. He immediately wraps his arm around her, pulling her in as close as he possibly can. They don’t say anything else, not for a long while. The silence is heavy and sad, and as much as she wants to apologize and tell him how wrong she was, she just lets him hold her like this, as if he thinks it’s the last time he’s going to be able to do it.

They fall asleep like that, and when she wakes up, he’s the one who’s gone this time. It’s only been an hour or two. She has a brief moment of panic but she can hear the water in the bathroom and when she looks around the room she sees his cell phone still on the nightstand charging. She pulls herself up and leans back into the headboard, playing with her own phone until the bathroom door opens.

“Matt was gonna send out for takeout, do you know what you want?” Nicholas asks.

Cam looks up from her cell phone and just kind of stares at him for a moment. He’s fresh from the shower, hair hanging damply around his shoulders, droplets of water rolling down his chest. Her eyes drift down to the towel knotted haphazardly around his hips, and she blinks, realizing that he’s talking to her.

“Huh?”

The corner of his mouth tilts up, and he reaches up to push his hair out of his face. “Food, Camille.”

“Right, um, I’ll text Matt what I want. Why don’t you get dressed?”

Nicholas doesn’t laugh at her even though he looks like he wants to, and she blushes, turning her attention back to her phone. She doesn’t look up again, not until he’s sitting down beside her and pulling her phone from her hands.

“Okay, you have until the food arrives, start talking.”  When she stares at him in confusion, he rolls his eyes at her impatiently. “Why did you come here, Camille?”

“You asked me to come, you said you needed me—”

“It’s more than that, and you know it.”

Cam sits up a little, trying to put some distance between the two of them, even though she doesn’t actually want it. “How much did Noah tell you?”

“I want to hear it from you.” he says, almost desperately.

Meddling band members aside, Cam knows this is what she came here for. Twisting her hands in her lap, she avoids his gaze for a few long moments. She doesn’t know what she’s expecting to see when she finally manages to look at him again.

“I fucked up,” she starts, immediately feeling a lump form in her throat when he reaches over to wrap a hand around hers. “I shouldn’t have left. It’s a stupid excuse but I was scared. Of getting closer, of falling in love with you. But that was kind of inevitable, I guess. I was probably always gonna fall in love with you, Nicky. I thought you asking me to come here was a sign—”

“Did I have to make you an actual neon sign or something?”

Cam blinks at him. “What?”

“I feel like it would be incredibly mean of me to call you dumb, but I asked you to come here for a reason. One that I hoped was a little more obvious than just me needing you here. Have you connected the dots yet?”

She ignores the undeniable need to smother him with a pillow for his sarcasm as much as the instinctual urge to kiss him. They need to talk this out. Her leaving without talking was what put them in this position in the first place. Rubbing her thumb back and forth over the back of his hand, she sighs and shakes her head.

“Connect them for me.”

Nicholas lets out an exasperated sigh, laughing at her. “I’m in love with you too, you dummy.”

“Hey, I thought you weren’t going to call me dumb—”

She doesn’t get to finish her sentence; he grabs her and pulls her closer until she’s practically in his lap, pressing his mouth to hers and cutting off her words. Her surprise is brief, before she’s wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back. And he doesn’t just kiss her, he devours her, as if he’s trying to make up for the months of not being able to do so. Cam can’t do much more than let him, balling her fists in his damp hair, opening her mouth beneath his.

His hands slide down around her hips, beneath the well worn cotton of her t-shirt, pressing hotly against the skin of her lower back. She feels the blunt press of his nails graze her sides as he tugs her as close as he possibly can. 

“I need to know what you want, Camille,” he says, and it comes out as desperate as Cam feels right now.

She tugs on his hair, trying to get his mouth back to hers. “Nicky—”

“You gotta tell me you’re gonna stay,” he evades her, pulling back enough so that their eyes meet. “I’m serious. Say the word now and I’ll make sure you’ve got a ticket back home if you want it.”

“Don’t you get it by now? You are my home.”

Nicholas groans and kisses her again, teeth knocking against hers briefly before he pulls back just enough and she’s pretty sure that even if she actually wanted to, she can’t leave now. The kiss is tinged with a little bit of bittersweet feeling, because she could have had this months ago, had she not been so fucking stubborn. He pulls away just as she's needing to breathe, and his mouth wanders from hers down across her jaw and over to her neck. A breathy whine escapes her and she gives his hair another demanding tug.

The knock on the hotel room door startles them both. They pull apart and stare at the door as if it’s a foreign concept to them, before Nicholas realizes that it’s their food. Cam scoots back on the bed as he gets up, and she drags her hands through her hair, trying to get her heartbeat back under control. She watches as he opens the door, and she sees Matt on the other side.

“Good afternoon, children.” he greets, holding out a bag of food. “Getting along nicely, I see.”

Even Cam can see from her spot on the bed that Nicholas’ lips were red and a little swollen. She’s sure she’s no better off. But she still wiggles her fingers at Matt in a wave, before escaping to the bathroom. It might be a little dramatic, but she pushes the door closed and leans against it, touching her bottom lip and giggling to herself. It almost doesn’t feel real, but when she looks at her disheveled appearance in the bathroom mirror, it’s obvious. She fights to keep the dopey smile off of her face. 

By the time she emerges, Matt is gone and Nicholas has straightened the bed, food containers on the duvet and one of the Star Wars movies playing on the television. They’ve been in this exact same position before back at home so many times that it makes Cam’s heart ache in a not entirely unpleasant way. Date nights, movie nights with the other guys. She didn’t think she’d have this again. She sits down beside him, automatically reaching for what she hopes is her food. She’s just opened the container of fries when Nicholas swoops in, snatching a few.

“Hey!” she laughs, twisting away with the container. “Just because I let you kiss me does not mean you get to steal my food.”

He smirks at her, popping the fries in his mouth. “Okay, Camille.”

She leans back into the space beside him, putting her attention on her food and the movie. That ache in her heart transforms to something more familiar and comfortable, and she rests her shoulder against his. This was something she’d wanted back more than anything, not just the feeling of Nicholas’ hands on her, or the taste of him on her tongue, but this. Just being here with him like this.

It’s everything.

Cam isn’t sure exactly what wakes her up. It takes a few moments for her eyes to adjust, and she can see the red glow of the cheap motel clock on the nightstand. The numbers are blinking and then she hears the wind and the rain. Lightning flashes on the other side of the curtains, and thunder rattles the windows. Another harsh storm, one that had obviously knocked out the power at one point. Tucked beneath the safety of Nicholas’ arm and the blankets, Cam reaches for her cell phone to check the time. It’s not even three yet.

But now that the storm has woken her, she’s awake in a wired way that she doesn’t think she can shake. Nicholas is still sleeping soundly behind her, so she tries to avoid tossing and turning. But she rolls over onto her side to face him, and immediately his hand tightens on her hip, pulling her closer. He lets out a sleepy noise, and Cam holds her breath. She doesn’t want to wake him, but the longer she stares at him, the more he comes into focus as the room isn’t entirely dark. Every spark of lightning illuminates him more; the way some of his hair falls over his face, the stretched out collar of his t-shirt. The dark smudges of the tattoos on his fingers where they rest curled against the pillow above his head.

She doesn’t realize at first that he’s not asleep anymore, not until the next flash of lightning when she can see him watching her sleepily.

“I missed this,” he says.

Cam brushes his hair from his face. “Me watching you like a creeper in the middle of the night?”

“You being the first thing I see when I open my eyes.”

If it weren’t the middle of the night, if it weren’t him saying it, she’d think it was ridiculously cliche. Instead, she nudges her nose against his and kisses him. What starts off as something soft and sweet quickly morphs into something else entirely. That wired feeling she has becomes nothing but need for him. Nicholas is obviously on the same page, he grasps her hips and pulls her up until she’s straddling his waist. Cam gets her fingers in his sleep mussed hair, tugging just a little bit to draw him even closer, and Nicholas groans needily. She chases the noise with her tongue, licking into his mouth with a single-minded determination. It’s almost unbearable how much she feels for him at this moment, and she tries desperately to pour it all into her kiss. 

Outside, the rain starts to die down. Finally they pull apart, foreheads resting together as they struggle to breathe. Nicholas wraps his fingers around her wrist, and he brings Cam’s hand up to his face. He kisses her palm once, then again before slowly trailing his mouth across her forearm, over ink that he put there years ago. She presses her face into his chest, trying to remember how to breathe and failing, feeling a sharp throb between her thighs. His other hand slid down her back, over the curve of her hip, pulling her body flush against his.

“Is this okay?” he asks, pressing his mouth against the curve of her shoulder, and she can feel the heat of his breath through the fabric of her shirt. “I need you to say—”

“Nicky,” she gasps, looking up at him. “I love you for asking, but this is very much okay.”

He lets out a choked off noise that she doesn’t have time to enjoy before he’s rolling them, flipping her beneath his body and tugging at her clothes insistently. She manages to get her hands between them, shoving at the waistband of his sweats with her own impatience. For a few moments it’s nothing but a tangle of limbs and clothes, and breathless laughter. She gets his sweatpants and boxers halfway down his thighs, wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking him slowly. He retaliates by leaving her shirt hanging off of one of her arms, curling over her and dips his head to suck one of her nipples into his mouth. Her back arches off the bed, her grasp on him loosening as she manages to wriggle out of the rest of her clothes, and she lets out a moan that only grows louder as he flicks his tongue back and forth.

He moves his mouth to her other breast, letting his teeth scrape over it before he lifts up to kiss her. A needy whine falls from his mouth into hers as she gives the base of his cock a squeeze, using her feet to shove his pants down the rest of the way.

“Would it be vain of me to say I missed this too?” she asks.

Nicholas lets out a breathy laugh, pulling back to look into her eyes. “Say it again.”

“What?” her brow furrows and she smirks. “That I missed your dick? Because I can tell you right now—”

His intense stare causes a fresh rush of want to hit her full force. It might have been embarrassing if not for their current situation. His hand cups her jaw, thumb pressing against her bottom lip. She fights the urge to open her mouth and pull the digit inside.

“Say that you love me, Camille.”

She thinks about uttering the words only hours ago, telling him that it was inevitable, her being in love with him, him saying that he was in love with her too. All she can think about is how much she loves him, how she needs him. How she wants him, right here and now in this motel in middle of nowhere, Wyoming in the middle of the night with the rain pouring down outside.

Cam must have said some of that out loud, because the next thing she knows his mouth is on hers again and he finally snakes a hand between her legs, touching her for the first time in months. No one else has touched her in months. His fingers are lithe and strong as they go right to her clit, circling mercilessly before dipping inside of her. She can practically hear how wet she is over her own breathing as she grasps his shoulders and arches up into his touch.

But just as soon as he’s started touching her, he pulls away. Her eyes fly open and a noise of protest falls from her mouth before he’s grabbing her hips and pulling her further down the bed beneath him. He kneels between her thighs, pulling her legs over his, and she watches avidly as he impatiently slides his cock between her folds.

“Please tell me you still have your IUD?” 

Cam nods, and that’s all the permission he needs before he sinks inside of her. She doesn’t care if he’s been with anyone else since her, he’s with her now. The second he’s fully inside, they both go still, just staring into each other’s eyes. It’s impossible for it to be true, but immediately the ache that she’s been feeling for the past few months seems to disappear. No one could ever make her feel like this. She clings to him, pulling his mouth to hers and petting her fingers through his hair.

“God, I missed being inside of you,” Nicholas murmurs, nose nudging against her cheek. “Are you okay, can I move?”

Him asking permission unravels something in her chest. “Yes, yeah, Nicky―”

His hips roll against hers and he groans softly into her shoulder. Cam presses a kiss to his forehead, urging him on. She feels his calloused fingertips caress her thigh before wrapping around her knee, hitching it further up his ribcage. Pulling out almost completely, he thrusts back in deep and hard, and she quickly braces a hand against the headboard to keep from moving up the bed.

"Don't stop," she begs, and he takes her at her word.

She doesn't want him holding back with her, and he doesn't. His soft kisses and touches betrayed the rough way he took her body, but Cam doesn't want him to stop. She holds on to him tightly, nails scoring deep marks in his arms and her teeth leaving behind imprints on his chest. One of his hands tangles with hers against the headboard, and the other stays permanently curled around the nape of her neck, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Say it again,” he demands, each word punctuated by a roll of his hips. “C’mon, Camille, be a good girl and tell me.”

He knows what it does to her, hearing him call her that, even after this much time. It takes her more than one try to get the words out, but they fall between them nonetheless and once she stops talking she can’t seem to stop, “I love you Nicholas, so much. I never stopped—”

Her words are cut off when he reaches down between their bodies to tease his fingers over her clit, and her eyes roll back in her head. His breathless laughter echoes in her ear before she feels him bury his face against her shoulder, teeth scraping over her skin. She’s going to look as if she were mauled by morning, and she can’t bring herself to care.

Cam isn’t sure which one of them comes first, too lost in the euphoric feelings coursing through her. Afterwards, they cling to each other, trying to catch their breath without straying too far from each other. Nicholas rests his head on her chest, watching her through his sweat-dampened hair. She traces her fingers over the bridge of his nose, the curve of his cheek. She knows eventually, they’ll have to move and clean up. She knows they’ll have to talk about what happens now, with a few weeks left on the tour and her having to get back home for work.

They’ll figure it out, but it doesn’t need to be right this minute.

Opening the back door of the rental car, Cam tosses her duffel in the backseat. Across the parking lot, the van meant to take the band back to the bus is idling, Jolly behind the wheel. Her flight back home arrived a lot sooner than she thought it would. She closes the door and turns to look at Nicholas, who looks more rested than when she arrived. The corner of his mouth tilts up in a smile and she can’t help but return it.

They’d come up with the most obvious solution, she’d go back home and she’d be there when he made it home from the tour. As soon as she left the airport, she’d pick up his cats from his sister’s and stay at his place. It was something he was adamant about; he wanted her there when he got home, and she wouldn’t refuse him.

Stepping closer to her, Nicholas put his hand against the car and leaned in to kiss her softly. She curled her fingers in the sides of his jacket, holding on to him until Jolly honked the horn. They break apart with a laugh, and look towards where the rest of his band is waiting.

“You gotta go,” she tugs on his jacket and pulls him in again. She pecks him on the lips again. “Drive safe.

“You too. You’ll text me when you get in?” he asks, brushing her hair back from her face.”

“I will even send you pictures of the cats as proof of life.”

They drift back together a third time, unable to help it. She wishes she’d thought to get more time off work before coming out here but she didn’t know how this was going to go. Jolly honks the horn a second time and she hears one of them wolf whistling at them. Nicholas flips them off before reluctantly letting her go.

“I’ll see you in two weeks,” he says. “I love you.”

Cam shoves her hands into the pocket of her hoodie—Nicholas’ hoodie she’d taken long ago—so she doesn’t pull him back again. “I love you too.”

She watches him walk across the parking lot, eventually opening the passenger seat and getting in. She waves them off, and they all wave and shout goodbyes to her. It was only fourteen days, she could do that. She’d gone months without him, and now that she has him back, two weeks felt like nothing. She doesn’t get behind the wheel to leave until the van is long out of sight.

Starting the car, she drives the opposite way as it begins to rain again.

[tarisbackyard]

Doing some research rn trying to figure out the logistics of Snake keeping 50 dogs for mushing, and the more I learn the more insane it seems.

Apparently Twin Lakes (where he lived) is inaccessible by car, you apparently can only get there via plane or on foot. In the briefing tapes he mentions that he was gonna attend the Iditarod, which only allows for a maximum of 16 dogs per sled. What was he planning to do with the spare dogs? How did he plan to get to the race site?

Did maybe multiple of the dogs just happened to have fresh litters? Was he planning to bring several dozen puppies along? Was he planning to get all of the puppies adopted out within a month before the race was supposed to start? Was he just gonna leave the other dogs behind for like up to three weeks?

Also, considering that he was probably living via hunting and foraging, how much hunting would he have needed to do to keep so many dogs fed??

What the FUCK are the logistics here?

[vaguesxrrow]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE EDWIN X RECENTLY DEAD MALE READER!!!! I NEED MORE MLM READER STUFF AND ALSO I'M A SUCKER FOR THE LONG DEAD AND USED TO IT/THE RECENTLY DEAD CONFUSED AND SCARED THING!!!!

hii yes ofc ! lovedd writing this so i hope u enjoy reading :>>

edwin payne / recently dead!reader

a/n: reader's cause of death is unspecified aside from he died on the street, and also he has an apartment.

anddd uh i forgot that death usually comes for newly dead people... so excuse that inaccuracy please or explain it away with how reader ran away from his body

wc: 1886

tags: male reader, ghost reader

cw's: mention of death, panic attacks (all not detailed)

you ran, leaving your body behind you where it lay on the sidewalk, limp and as still as rigor mortis (you never thought that saying could be applied literally, but now it was, and wasn't that crazy?).

you were panicking, you vaguely registered, as the passerby's and the cars seemed to blur in your vision. people kept passing right through you, and you hunched in on yourself. even if you couldn't feel them (which was also a new, unwelcome epiphany), it still made your skin crawl.

until - a firm hand rested on your shoulder. your breath hitched, like you couldn't quite figure out if the touch was welcome or not.

"are you quite alright?" the hand's voice asked. you looked up, half expecting to see a horror movie-style ghost. instead, however, you were met with angled features that were sharp, yet softened by visible concern at the same time. the boy's brown eyes were narrowed, and his hair looked a little wind swept.

okay. definitely a welcome touch.

"can you hear me? are you alright?" he repeated.

you snapped out of your stupor. "oh," you said dumbly. "i- i don't... know."

he cocked his head to the side, sympathy in the way he pursed his lips and his gaze became gentler. "what do you last remember?"

"...i was walking. and then... i wasn't? it's kind of black after that. i was laying down when i came to..." your eyes widened. you meant to ask, 'am i dead?', but instead what came out was a strangled, "oh my god."

"it is important to remain calm," edwin advised. "i can help you."

you nodded vigorously. "okay, yeah, i could use your help." especially because your voice was getting an octave higher with every word you spoke. so much for remaining calm.

before you knew it, the boy had guided you to a bench and sat you on it, plopping down right next to you as he waited for you to regain your composure. his arm was around yours, securing you snugly to his side - it was comforting.

"i'm dead, aren't i?" you intoned numbly.

he sighed. "yes. but that does not mean everything is over."

"earlier... everyone just passed through me. like i wasn't there at all."

"it is lonely, at first. but then it is not," he said. "take my case for example - my best mate is charles - he's dead as well - and we have two alive friends named crystal and niko, who are part of the small proportion of people who can see us. when you find the right people, it becomes very difficult to feel lonely."

"charles, crystal, and niko..." you repeated. "and what's your name?"

"edwin payne."

"nice to meet you, edwin. and thanks for helping. i'm [name]."

"not a problem," edwin said. "my friends and i are often in the habit of assisting ghosts, although you are the first recently dead i have personally come across in a very long time."

"how long?" you inquired. "i mean, when did you... kick the bucket?"

"1916," he told you gently.

your eyes widened. "riiight."

you fell silent again. as you were contemplating your current circumstances, several voices yelled edwin's name.

approaching you were three people. two girls - one with white hair, the other with curly brown - and a boy with near-black ringlets.

"edwin, mate, we couldn't find you anywhere!" the boy exclaimed.

"yes, well-" edwin began.

"who's this?" the white haired girl cut in, looking at you curiously.

edwin rolled his eyes fondly. "this is [name]. he recently... became a ghost."

"does he know any cool ghost tricks yet?" she asked.

you thought you felt a headache coming on.

"[name], these are my friends. niko, crystal, and charles." he gestured to them in order of mention. they all waved at you, even if the last two looked a bit wary.

"hi," you said meekly.

"we were just discussing the events of [name]'s death."

charles coughed pointedly. "maybe give the guy time to process he even is dead?"

"oh! my apologies, [name]. are you still feeling unwell?"

your eyes darted between crystal and niko as they exchanged glances at edwin's apology, like they were surprised. it confused you as to why - he seemed perfectly nice so far... and very charming.

"i'm good," you told edwin, flashing a smile. "i just... don't know where to go. i can't go back to my apartment, can i? i'm dead. it's not like i could continue living there."

"i read somewhere that it's good to revisit places from the past," niko informed you earnestly. "it can be very healing."

"hey, edwin, you should walk him back to his apartment!" crystal piped up.

"hm?" niko cocked her head at her friend. "oh! oh, yes, edwin, you totally should. you're a dead boy detective, after all. go help people!"

you thought you'd get whiplash trying to keep up with the conversation. "you're a what now-?"

edwid stood abruptly, brushing invisible dust off his coat. "perhaps i will walk [name] back to his apartment. if you feel inclined to." the last part was directed at you.

"oh- i wouldn't want to inconvenience you guys..." you said.

"nonsense." he held out a hand to you. "we are the dead boy detective agency, after all."

you still didn't know what that was, but you trusted edwin in spite of only having known him for less than an hour. so, you took his hand. you couldn't feel it, but the imagined weight and warmth of his palm against yours gave you comfort, dissipating the fear and apprehension inside you just a little bit.

⌦ --

the apartment building loomed above you. suddenly, it felt so big and intimidating - you felt no trace of excitement at the quaintness of it like you always had before. the reason you chose to live here was the brick walls and the carefully tended vines snaking along the front. not to mention, it was tall - 10 stories - and sort of reminded you of rapunzel's tower.

"ready?" edwin prompted.

you nodded, and let him pull you through the door - which you passed through with ease. you knew you were incorporeal at best in your current state, but you still cringed, bracing yourself for an impact that never came.

"it gets easier, eventually," edwin told you, having noticed your unease.

"yeah, okay," you said. and you were convinced. "i guess it'll help having an experienced ghost guide with me." you beamed at him.

his lips parted slightly in surprise. "i promise to do whatever i can to make this adjustment easier for you."

you chuckled. "edwin, you are honestly so charming..." you muttered to yourself as you headed towards the elevator. another reason you loved this complex so much was because you didn't have to conquer the 10 floors with just the stairs.

how did ghosts usually travel up places? you had no clue, but you were grateful that edwin kept silent at your decision to take the lift.

a 'ding' sounded and the doors parted open, instantaneously revealing the door that led to your room. your landlady had been kind enough to let you paint it a lovely burnt orange colour.

"that's me," you sighed. "c'mon."

your apartment was just as you remembered you left it this morning. not that you'd logically expected any change... but the fear-addled part of you had maybe been picturing a ransacked room, band posters ripped off the wall and all your ceramic cups shattered across the floor.

"this is weird," you voiced as you drifted from the door to the couch, then to the small kitchenette.

you shivered, not from the cold - you would never feel cold again, you thought, a bit hysterically - but from the all-encompassing grief you felt for yourself.

"i'm kind of sad i died. i know i'm still here... i'm not gone gone, or anything, but i'm still sad. is that weird?" you turned towards edwin, who was watching you with an unidentifiable look in his eyes.

"not at all." he put a hand on your shoulder. "there is much more to be done, even after your living time has expired." he paused, seeming to consider something. "i could... i could show you, if you would like."

"show me what?"

"the dead boy detectives' office," he said. "perhaps it will serve as a distraction."

warmth spread inside you, touched at his thoughtfulness. "that'd be great."

"excellent." edwin smiled, looking pleased. "do you have a mirror?"

your iron-tight grip on edwin's hand never ceased its hold, even after the two of you emerged from the other side of the mirror. panting, you gave your insides a moment to settle from the very jarring travel.

"that was so cool," you gasped. "even if it was unexpected. is this what niko meant by cool ghost tricks?"

"quite," edwin said. "now, welcome to the dead boy detectives' office. allow me to show you around."

his hand was still in yours, you noticed as he led you to a bookshelf and gave an overview of the different volumes it held. you made no move to pull away - partially because you didn't want to break his flow (you saw why he was so proud of it, and it was cute hearing him ramble), partially because you enjoyed the contact.

then, he showed you to a shelf that, if you didn't know any better, would have looked like a knick knack shelf, albeit one belonging to an eccentric grandma. on it were objects ranging from bones (human or not, you couldn't tell) to the rubber balls you found in vending machines.

"these," edwin proclaimed. "are the more interesting payments we have received. some enchanted, some not. i keep a document of which are and aren't."

he picked up a metal ring, with a dark sapphire gem in the middle. "like this, for example. it isn't enchanted, but it dates back to the edwardian era. when i was alive." he sighed wistfully, and lifted your hand, where your fingers were still intertwined. "may i?"

you nodded, watching his face. his eyes met yours, and he smiled shyly as he slipped the ring onto your finger.

"i acknowledge that we have only just become acquainted," edwin began. "but i have never become so fond of a boy this quick before."

"...so, in 21st century speak, you like me?" you questioned, half-teasing.

the two of you chucked in unison.

edwin cleared his throat. "yes, i think i do."

"then you won't mind if i..." you let the way you leaned down slightly finish your sentence.

"please," he said.

the kiss was chaste and fleeting, but it was enough for you to decide you definitely wanted to do it again.

"was that okay?" you checked in with edwin.

he nodded quickly. "yes, yes. very much so."

"good." you bit back a grin.

"would you like to stick around?" he blurted. "around the office, i mean, and with my friends and i. it isn't every day i meet a boy like you, and i... think i would rather like your company."

"i think i'd like your company, too," you admitted.

he held out a hand, making you laugh at the formality of it. "well then, welcome to the dead boy detectives' agency." he said. "i, for one, am very happy to have you here.”

[blackout-galaxy]

ok so i said submas blast so im giving you submas blast.

unfortunately for everyone involved, including the characters, i have thunked up an au. it has ended up being named Warden, Navigator, Madman. will the fic i inevitably write be named this? who knows! probably not but it will end up in there somewhere.

Anyways.

Behold my shitty little timeline where I was trying to figure out what to do with them. C is Akari, A is Ingo, and B is Emmet!

But oh, you say, that means ingo and emmet are no longer twins! Fret not, dear reader! For I have this funny little thing called time dilation!

Now, I am absolutely not going to use the word again, because I’m afraid of using it incorrectly (I did so many times rambling to my friends.) so just keep that concept in your brain, okay?

What’s important is that to the people of hisui, Ingo has been Lady Sneasler’s warden since she herself was young. He’s spent the past decade there by the time the sky opens up a third time. Akari has spent two before she’s deemed prepared enough to go out on her own.

Neither of them have aged much at all in these time spans. By Irida’s best logic, her warden’s aged maybe three years.

Emmet arrives two years after akari and ten after ingo. And is experiencing double time in the woods. What is six months to hisui is a year to him and Unova in the future.

Anyways! All that out of the way, let’s get to the meat and bones!

A major part of the effects from this is the fact that *i* think that humans are able to end up typed like Pokémon. The last time the twins were in for a checkup, they were both registering as majority steel-typed, with minor typing in electric, poison, and dragon, for a variety of reasons. When they get back, a feral thirteen year old in tow, they register as dark-ghost, with moderate dragon typing and minor poison and ice typing. For somewhat obvious reasons I’ll get into. Akari registers as normal and dragon and always has, thank her lucky stars.

Ingo, as he’s experiencing time in a very strange manner, doesn’t realize that spending… more than what he thinks is three quarters of his time in the woods is closer to disappearing for months at a time. This has effects on him, including the fact that spending all your time barely interacting with any human can and will substantially fuck with your typing and the severity of its effects on you.

Emmet, who has been kidnapped by zorua and has begun going insane, is also contemplating just how hard it would be to convince his brother to be feral in the woods with him. (His typing is shifting faster than he can mentally adjust to it)

Unfortunately (or fortunately) for them both, they never run into one another properly until Akari gets let loose on the mountains.

Which means that the supposedly worsening hallucinations that have brought ingo into town more often aren’t just hallucinations, and that the zorua screaming on the mountainside aren’t just zorua.

I have quite a few incidents in store for all three of them, with varying levels of involvement from the other wardens and the people of jubilife, but this is all you get for certain for now!

And a good look at my ideas for them of course.

[kaciebello]

Trouble of three heads

Masterlist Sebastian Sallow x Rawenclaw!reader (fem) x Ominis Gaunt  (All platonic) Summary: Sebastian sneaks something into the castle and the tiro tries to figure out what to do with it. Warning: no use of y/n Author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) Also the Ceberus picture is actually a sticker you can buy! Word count: 1k Song: Affluenza by Conan Gray

It was a quiet afternoon in Hogwarts. Not something the students are used to. Well, at least not these 3. While Ominis is on the quiet side and tends to listen to his friends more, Sebastian is the complete opposite. The Ravenclaw girl that you can see hanging out with the two Slytherins likes to say that Sebastian is loud enough for all of them. Sebastian takes offence to that.

It was not weird to see the 3 walking in the hallways, Ominis and the girl walking almost hand in hand, while Sebastian circles them. The two agreed that if it was sociably acceptable, they would have put him on a leash.

So there was no surprise when Sebastian burst into the undercroft, hiding something under in robe. The girl and Ominis didn't pay him much attention, as they were used to his behaviour. That was until the girl saw something in the corner of her eyes.

“Sebastian.” She called out, making him stop at his tracts. Ominis lift his head as well, happy to listen. Sebastian did not move from his position. Not even turning around to face his friends.

“What do you have there?” She says, motioning to him to turn around and close to the sofa where she and Ominis sat. Sebastian looked over his shoulder before deciding against it and choosing to live another day. Just as he took a step from his friends, his rope let out a yelp.

Ominis raised his eyebrows.

“Did you just bark at us?” He asked in disbelief. Sebastian spun around offended and wanted to argue but the same noise left his robe again. He just looked at his friends, one on the verge of laughing and the other with the utmost confused expression on his face.

“Okay, you can't be mad.” He says. All three of them know that if Sebastian starts conversations with them, they are most likely to be mad. Sebastian unrevealed his rope and a little puppy jumped out of his arms.

The girl gasped and reached out to grab Ominis's hand.

“I found this creature, and I wanted to find out what it was.” He says, awkwardly scratching the behind of his ear.  The girl looked at him in confusion as she helped Ominis to feel around for the dog.

“Maybe you can help me?” He says asking her.

“It's a dog Sebastian, I don't know what to tell you.” She says nonchalantly. Sebastian just huffs and points to the creature.

“A dog?! It has three heads do you not see it??”

“It's a puppy if anything!” She argues back.

“A puppy?! Are you blind?!”

“No, but I-”

“I am” Pipes up Ominis. Trying somehow to pet all 3 heads at the same time.

“We know.” They both say with a sigh.

“ Just making sure you haven't forgotten.”

“ Thank you for reminding us.” Says the girl with a soft voice.

“You’re welcome.” Ominis replies, a sly expression resting on his face. Silence falls upon the group as the only thing you can hear is the slight panting of the dog.

“So,” begins Ominis, “ did you or did you not steal a dog.” 

“I did not steal a dog!” Sebastian defends himself.

“It certainly looks like it.” Sings back Ominis. The dog has now wedged between the girl and him, doing something that resembled a headstand.

“Was it by someone's house wearing a collar? Or in this case collars.” The girl teases him. Sebastian could only whine and run his hand through his hair. Shaking his head.

“ I found it in the forbidden forest,” he says, now making the other two stop in their actions. Sebastian was ready to say something more. 

“You went to the forbidden forest alone?!” Ominis is the first one to react, the girl chose not to get between the two boys. As Ominis went off on Sebastian who looked like a puppy more than the actual puppy right now.

After some time all 4 of them have now settled on the floor of the undercroft. The puppy currently tagging on Sebastians’ sleeves.

“What should we call  it?” Asks Ominis, patting around for the dog.

“What about Cerberus.” Suggested Sebastian, inspecting his wet sleeve as the dog was now chasing Ominises wand around.

“You can't name it after what it is.” The girl yelped, slapping his upper arm.

“You named your cat Kitty!” He yelps back, rubbing the spot where she hit him.

“Touché.”

“I think it's a nice name.” Ominis chimes in. 

“Yeah, sure, I like it too.” The girl turns around her attitude. Sebastian can just watch in shock. Murmeling is something about favouritism.

The day left as soon as it arrived and it was now time to head into their respective common rooms.  Sebastian discarded his rope long ago as the puppy managed to drool all over it. A new argument has appeared amongst the group. Who is gonna take the dog with them.

The boys said the girl should take it, as they had already gotten in enough trouble. She argued that they should take it as she can't hide it from other Ravenclaws.

“Maybe we should find some chamber of secrets.” The girl suggested, petting the sleeping dog.

“What's that?” Sebastian looks at her confused.

“Somewhere I can chain you in secret.”

“Ooh, kinky.”

“Stop” Ominis stops them. Not really in the mood for their bickering. “Maybe we can keep it here?” He suggested instead.

“ Alone? What if it gets sad.” Says the girl forming her lips into a pout. It didn't help much as Ominis couldn't see it and Sebastian was currently trying to get his robe back from underneath the sleeping dog.

“It's sleeping anyways. I doubt it will notice.” 

“But we have to come back first thing after breakfast, bring some food.” Ominous nodded at that. seemingly making a decision He and the girl made their way to the exit.

“Leave it, Sebastian!” He calls back as he notices their friend is not following. His answer was a groan and hurried footsteps. 

So the three, now in possession of 3 headed dog, have decided to keep him a secret. Sebastian agreed to sneak out with it every night and let it run around the courtyard, the girl swore to train it and teach it tricks, and Ominis promised to dip his hands into his family funds and provide food for the creature.

The other students swear they can see a dog with 3 heads roaming around the castle. Whenever they voice it, Professor Howin and Garlick get weirdly defensive.

Tag list:  @klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone ,@enfppuff , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8 , @catiwinky, @leeleecats , @ghostgardn , @reverse-soe , @ultramarinetovelvet @jazz-berry , @justatadbonkers , @partnerincrime0 , @schaebickel , @deluluassapocalypse , @adreamingpendulum, @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo ,@harvey-malfoy , @helendeath

[oftenwantedafton]

the new hire | steve raglan x female reader

rating |explicit

part 5/?

words | 5k

cw | dom/sub, oral sex

ao3 link

Three more nights at Freddy’s.

Three uneventful evenings, three boring shifts where you sit and stare at the monitors in the security office and see nothing unusual. You know you should feel grateful that there are no intruders. No sign of the rabbit.

No sign of Steve Raglan, either. It still hasn’t occurred to you that those two might be linked. For now, they are separate phenomena.

Friday morning you return home from work and shower and lie in bed, willing your eyes to shut. Sleep is still evading you, even though you’re tired. Your phone rings and it startles you. You rarely got calls. You have no friends. Few living relatives, and those few don’t care to contact you.

You answer and you know, before he even speaks, that it’s Steve on the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

“Hello. It’s me. Just checking in,” he says, using that same deceptively cheerful tone he’d had when you’d first met in his office. “Doesn’t sound like I’ve woken you up.” You doubt he’d feel remorse if he had. “How have things been going at Freddy’s?”

You sit up, your fingers fussing with the comforter. You can’t imagine he’d call just to shoot the breeze. So what did he want now? “Everything has been quiet.”

“Good. Glad to hear it. Listen, you’ll need to swing by the office to collect your wages today. I am booked solid for the weekend and won’t be able to stop by like I did last time.”

“Um…okay.” You wonder what’s going to be keeping the social worker so occupied. Of course it’s none of your business, but still. The lack of attention you’ve received these last few nights has been unpleasant. Even Raglan’s strange company is better than none.

You squint at the alarm clock beside the bed. It’s not even nine yet. “I guess I could just head on over now.” You fling the blanket back, preparing to slide out of bed.

“No, that won’t do. I’ve got a full schedule of clients to see today, and you need to get some rest before your shift tonight. Can’t expect you to function properly without it. It’s really best if you came later. Say, around six?”

You can’t imagine that it will be that big of a deal to hand you cash. That should take all of several seconds. But of course he’s going to make this complicated. “Doesn’t the office close at five?”

The friendly tone slips a bit. He doesn’t like being questioned like this. You know it. You know better than to argue. You wonder if you don’t secretly enjoying bringing out the darker side of him. Spread over his lap. God, you’d been absolutely soaked…“Yes, it does. Which is why you’ll be arriving after hours. I’ll be getting caught up on paperwork until then.”

“How am I going to get into the office?”

A heavy, exasperated sigh. “I’ll let you in, obviously. Be prompt. I’m not going to stand at the door waiting forever.”

“Okay. I’ll be there at six.”

“Excellent. See you then. Sweet dreams,” he adds, and those two rough words make you feel warm and aching all over again.

***

If you have any sweet dreams, you don’t recall them.

You debate about getting dressed for work before heading back to the DSS office. You’ll have several hours to kill. Maybe you could come back home and squeak in another nap. In the end, you decide to wear something casual. It’s not like you were going for a job interview. You’re not trying to impress Steve.

Except that’s not entirely true, is it? Because you spend a little longer getting ready, making sure your appearance is tidy, applying light makeup and body spray and earrings. You choose a v neck tee that clings to your figure, draped over dark wash jeans and you tell yourself, as you look in the mirror, that you are strictly going there to collect your pay, and that is all. There’s no reason to expect anything else might happen.

You hate how you have butterflies in your stomach. You hate that you’re so eager to see the older man, so eager to please him. By the time you leave your apartment, your anxiety is through the roof.

There are still cars in the parking lot when you arrive, so apparently the social worker isn’t the only straggler in the building. Not a lot, though; it was Friday night, after all.

The entrance to the office is framed in glass. You can see the tall man waiting for you on the other side, arms folded. You check your watch. You’re on time. A little early, even. Which meant he’d been waiting early, too. Anticipating…what, you don’t know.

There’s a bruise on your hip from your last encounter with this man; a bruise on your soul and you don’t know which is worse, the physical harm or the emotional manipulation. Why do you crave him so much?

Raglan opens the door once you reach it, the narrow wedge you’re allotted no longer surprising you. You brush past him, eyes downcast, that brief touch of his body against yours like lighting a match, heat blooming. You hear the snap of the door being locked behind you and then without a word he begins walking down the hall, leaving you to catch up.

When you reach Steve’s office he shuts the door behind you. He could have already handed to the cash and been done with you. So why bring you here? Why shut that solid wood barrier?

He drops into the leather chair behind the desk, much as he had in the cloth one in the security office, with that same careless abandon. The seat rotates back and forth and you wonder if he ever just spins around like a child would, just for fun. There are little details in the room that you hadn’t noticed the first time you’d been here. The many framed awards lining the walls. The wire rabbit with its slotted ribs to organize and tuck mail into. A map of the local district and some generic looking nature scene that was probably mass produced, something the company had provided. There’s an eyeglass case and some change and a set of car keys on the desk, the rabbit’s foot now a familiar sight. A lot of keys on that ring. Some of them for Freddy’s, most likely.

Raglan runs his index and middle fingers over his moustache, then strokes the facial hair covering his chin. Whiter there than other places. He looks at you like he might a puzzle piece, trying to discern where you fit in, which way he needs to align you to make you slot properly into whatever grand design he’s orchestrating; his secret, meant for none but him alone to enjoy.

The money is curled in his other fist. You notice it now, when he relaxes his grip and reveals it. You imagine it is warm from his body heat. He stretches the arm out and you walk towards it. His wrist turns and the bills land in a pile on the carpet. You descend to your knees, reaching again, but his foot shifts and swiftly covers the currency, leaving your fingers empty. Your lashes lift and you see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Your hand curls around his calf. You press your lips to the inside of one knee. His breath hitches.

You stare up at him. Still wrapped around one leg, still watching him warily. Wanting. Waiting. His hand reaches for you face, fingers curling under your chin. Thumb spread over your lips and then speared between, pushing past your lips and teeth and stopping when he’s nestled against your tongue. Your eyes linked as you suck that digit, curling around it with the wet muscle and stroking, clutching it against your palate, feeling creases and whorls, joint and nail bed. Discovering the taste of the currency he’d clutched, that odd metallic flavor sunk into cotton and linen blended threads.

It’s not enough, you want to taste more of him, reaching for the button fastening his shirt sleeve. A small alarmed sound when you succeed, catching another glimpse of that pink scar you thought you’d seen during your interview. Was he ashamed of it? You don’t mind it, tongue darting out to lick along the pulse there, and the sound he makes, that deep groan, echoes in your core.

“Stand up.”

Your mouth abandons his skin. You frown a question at the older man. You’d thought he wanted you at his feet, on the floor, between his legs, worshipping at what dwells at the apex of them.

“Up,” he grates again, and you hastily comply.

“Why didn’t you wear something easier to remove?” The chair creaks as he leans forward, fingers at the button fly of your denim. “Surely you had some inkling…” The zipper is yanked down and his fingers curl around the waistband, dragging the jeans down until they’re resting midway across your thighs. “The scent of your depraved fantasies…oh.” A little huff of surprise when he shoves the hem of your shirt up and you scramble to hold it out of the way—why had you worn something so awkward, honestly—and he sees the discoloration he’s left. The ecchymosis has faded a bit, shifting from dark blue and purple to a fainter shade of maroon. He strokes over that bruised patch of flesh with a soft caress, completely ignoring the lace panties you’ve chosen to wear (yes, you’d had an inkling, as he’d called it, hopeful and lusting but you don’t want to admit it, not to yourself nor to him) keeping his attention solely focused on that injury he’d previously inflicted.

Then he kisses the spot and you think you might just die then, just spontaneously combust, because it’s so awkwardly tender and so near the area you really want his mouth at, feeling that brush of facial hair stroking your mound, between your thighs. He pulls at the damaged skin with his mouth, sucking, and a fresh sting erupts there while his fingers curl around and knead one cheek, another reminder of where he’s been before, meting punishment to balance the pleasure he’s about to gift you now.

The crotch of your panties is dragged to one side—a tight strain, the fabric isn’t very giving—wedging against your groin, digging into the crease while his tongue delves over the exposed pink flesh, the tip curling and thrusting between legs you wish you could part better, but you’re restricted by those stupid jeans you’d decided to wear that he clearly has no intention of removing further. So you stand on legs that are already trembling like a newborn foal’s, this older man seated in front of you with his nose digging into your mound and his tongue trying to collect whatever essence it can, scraping and prodding while the beard you’d imagined to be coarse and abrasive is instead a soft textured brush that only heightens everything. His glasses are knocked askew and you pull them off with your free hand, setting them on the desk beside you, the other still occupied with keeping the hem of your shirt out of the social worker’s way, letting you see the glory of him ravaging your cunt even in this limited fashion and it’s the single most erotic thing you’ve ever seen or felt in your life.

You’re touching his hair now, sifting through the layers, and you realize it is many, many colors, not simply gray and white but every shade in between, silky ribbons shading from dark to light, stormy sky to bright daybreak. The fervor with which he consumes you only intensifies, sending your hurtling through the path of ultimate bliss, your twitching bud finally surrendering to the relentless lashes of Steve’s tongue. You cum in his mouth and you hear the strangled inhale through his nostrils, your body mashed against his face, the fingers on his head cupping and shoving him closer and closer. A hum of sound and the hand on your ass tightens and the hypersensitivity that makes you want to recoil and push him back for respite transcends into something else. He’s got you there again, right on the brink, and you bite your tongue to stifle the wail when you climax a second time, still unsure if anyone else is left in the office to hear you.

Raglan eventually moves away, slouching against the back of the leather chair, looking disheveled and this, this is what you had envisioned when you’d called him, asking him to come to the restaurant that night. Climbing out of bed, hair tousled, clothes rumpled, that careful, neat appearance suddenly wild and raw and natural. You’re still trembling, still caught in the turbulent throes post orgasm, managing to lean over and capture his lips and he allows it, allows you to smooth back the slightly curled lock of hair that’s descended across his forehead, lap at the damp mouth that tastes familiar, like your own sex, while you reach down for his crotch and find him hard and straining.

Your descent to your knees is less than graceful—your thighs are still effectively shackled—but you manage the task, just as you manage to open his fly and shove the waistband of his briefs down. There is a lot there for your mouth, for your throat; daunting, but you’re determined. You want to take this man apart, enjoying this sudden shift in power, where he’s allowing you to direct the course of every action. You tease a few licks before you properly take his cock in your mouth and suck and the noise this elicits is one you know you’re going to savor again later, when you’re alone and you remember this, a backdrop for self pleasure. It’s a needy sort of whimper, a surprised sort of pleading sound. You can feel the tremors wracking his thighs already. He’s not going to last long. Your mouth is as relentless as his own had been, working up and down, straining with a lewd, wet slap each time he collides further and further back. He spills so deeply in your throat you don’t even taste it at first, until the pulsing head rests on the base of your tongue, when he jerks your head back so he can see your depravity, blown pupils meeting blown pupils, white cum still staining your red mouth and that breathy little moan hummed through his lips betraying just how much he’d enjoyed it.

You swallow the rest of his load down—bitter, as you’d known it would be—and sit back on your heels, realizing the two of you are still panting, still struggling to recover. You watch him shove himself back into his pants and you take that as a signal that you’re to do the same, grabbing up the cash you can finally reach off the carpet—and damn if that doesn’t make you feel like more of a whore than collecting your wages at the diner ever had, like he’d insinuated—before you push yourself upright, shimmying back into your jeans after tugging the crotch of your panties back towards the middle where it belongs.

You have absolutely no idea what to do now. He had started this, whatever this was, and you’d finished it, and now you’re struggling not to feel used and empty. In the heat of the moment everything had been perfect, but now you want all of that stupid, sappy stuff that you believe should come after intimacy. You want cuddles and pillow talk and of course this is hardly the time or the place for that. This isn’t anything even remotely resembling something like that; it’s not a relationship, not anything really, just the release of pent up tension between the two of you, but you stare at his face and you crave those lips and you want his arms around you. You know he’s going to tell you to leave and you’ll do it because he told you to but you wish, for one silly little moment, that he’d request the opposite instead. Ask me to stay. Tell me you want more. I want more than this.

Raglan’s refastened his shirt sleeve and slid those ill fitting glasses back into place and he almost resembles his usual tidy self. Some of his hair is still mussed and your fingers itch to help straighten it (or better yet make it messier) but you resist the urge. It had been okay, before. You know it wouldn’t be now.

“I have to finish my work. You should try to take a nap before your shift.” His voice is quiet. He’s not meeting your eyes. You follow him out of his office. Everyone must be gone now. It’s dimly lit and quiet.

There are a million things you want to say as you wait for him to unlock the door. Instead you remain silent. You force yourself to walk away, knowing he’s watching every step you take.

***

You don’t sleep.

Can’t, not after what’s happened in the career counselor’s office. His mouth on you. Your mouth on him. Taking each other apart. Those memories alone are going to be enough to fuel your next rounds of self pleasure for a long time.

The first hour of your shift passes without incident.

Then you see movement on one of the screens. Not the rabbit. A human. Male. Dressed in dark clothing. It looks like he’s climbed in through some vent on the outside.

The security door is unlocked, as Steve had instructed. You’re already dialing his number, keeping a wary eye on the stranger. He’s brought a flashlight, shining the beam around. Thief? Thrill seeker? It didn’t matter. He wasn’t supposed to be here.

The phone keeps ringing. Come on, Steve. Nothing. You redial in case you’ve hit the wrong numbers, even though you’re certain they’d been correct. Even try the office, thinking maybe he’d fallen asleep at his desk. No answer, just voicemail.

Police, then. You don’t have any other choice. You’ll deal with the consequences later. Surely pissing off Steve couldn’t be worse than letting this guy do whatever it was he was planning on doing.

You lift the receiver again and hear nothing. No dial tone. Complete silence. The phone is no longer working.

The threads of panic that had begun to squirm through you earlier now writhe, demanding attention. You don’t even have any kind of a weapon to defend yourself.

You should really lock the door. Again, Steve be damned.

You stand, intending to do just that. From the distance you hear the sound of glass shattering. Shit. Not just a casual explorer, then.

The lights go out.

You’d completely forgotten about the warning you’d been issued about how the electricity tended to be fickle. You normally just switch it on at the start of your shift and back off again before you leave. The office is completely dark. No more monitors. The emergency lighting in the hallway glows red. You’ll have to reset the breaker if you want full power restored. Which means leaving the office. That pitch dark room you no longer want to hide in.

Another crash. This sounded like something heavy. Metal striking another object. You’re still hovering in the open doorway. The switch for the power isn’t that far away. You could make it there and back again, surely. You take a step forward, your fingers still hooked around the doorframe. Another step. Now you hold only air. You keep walking. Your chest feels tight. It hurts trying to breathe so shallowly. You try to keep your tred light. It couldn’t be much farther. Just a few more steps. You think you can make out the shape of it, the box jutting out from the wall.

You’re not alone in the hallway.

The intruder has found his way here. He starts towards you and you jerk to a halt, taking a step back.

From the depths of the service room, the figure of the decaying rabbit animatronic emerges.

You don’t see the silver eyes. Its back is to you, facing the other man. You hear the sound of something striking the mascot, the clatter of that object as it hits the floor. The human male’s body is lifted and flung against the nearest wall. You can hear bones snapping.

You’ve lost your footing in your haste to back up. You scrabble backward on hands and feet, the soles of your sneakers squeaking against the linoleum. You’re no longer trying to quiet your breathing. It comes and goes in a harsh, desperate whine. The rabbit’s bulk does nothing to slow it down. It’s right in front of you. Those strange glowing eyes focused on this vulnerable prey. You can hear it breathing, a dry, rusty sort of drag. There’s a roaring sound in your ears. It’s getting harder and harder to see, to focus. You’re blacking out. Darkness.

***

You awaken to feel something cool and wet being pressed against your forehead.

You blink rapidly, struggling to get your bearings. You’re no longer in the restaurant. You’re in a car. Steve Raglan’s car.

There’s a blue flashing light nearby. Police cruiser? You catch a glimpse of blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. The young female officer gets behind the wheel of the vehicle and drives away, the tires screeching as she peels out of the parking lot.

“What…”

“You’re okay. Look at me.”

You try to focus on the social worker’s features. His hair looks a little damp. He’s still dressed in his office attire. “What happened?” You lick your lips. They’re so dry. You can barely get the words out.

“Someone broke into Freddy’s. The police just escorted them away.”

“I didn’t call them.”

“I know. I did.”

“I tried to call you. There was no answer. I even tried the office. Then the phone went dead.”

“The line was cut.”

“By that man?”

“Yes.”

“So how did you call the police?”

“I didn’t call from Freddy’s. I called the police as soon as there was no answer here. I knew something was wrong.”

“You’ve never called me at work.” You frown, shaking your head. Things still seemed fuzzy. You feel like you’re missing pieces of the puzzle. “What did that guy want, anyway?”

“That’s for the authorities to sort out.”

“Why didn’t you answer the phone?”

Steve stares at you for long moments. “I was unavailable.”

“At midnight? What were you doing?”

“That’s not your concern.”

“I could have gotten hurt. Seriously hurt. You realize that, right? This is so asinine. You’ve got me guarding this place with no training, no weapons, you tell me just to call you when I need you, and when I needed you, you weren’t there.” The words spill out in a rush. Fear and anger, betrayal and hurt coursing through you.

“I apologize.”

“You apologize? No, that’s not good enough, that’s—” He cuts you off by leaning over to kiss you. Your brain short circuits instantly. Why does he always feel so good? “You can’t just do that and expect it to make everything okay,” you manage when you part for air.

“It makes it better though, doesn’t it?”

Kiss it and make it better, Daddy. Oh, fuck. How can you be thinking about sex at a time like this?

“Where did you find me?”

“The hallway in the back. Why?”

“The rabbit was there again. It was fighting with the man. I think it was trying to help me. Don’t tell me I didn’t see it. It was there. I heard it breathing.”

“The animatronics don’t breathe. They’re not alive.” His voice is surprisingly gentle and patient, as if he’s explaining to a child how the Easter bunny isn’t real.

“This one is,” you insist stubbornly. “You can think I’m delusional. I know what I saw. Something is happening here.”

The older man turns his attention to the steering wheel, reaching to turn the key in the ignition. “You’ve had enough excitement for one day, I think. I’m taking you home.”

“What? My shift isn’t over.” You look at the digital display that glows green on the vehicle’s dashboard. It’s barely two.

“You won’t be docked for not completing the shift.”

“I’m capable of driving myself home.”

“I’m taking you,” he repeats, the firm disciplinary tone taking hold once more.

“I don’t want to leave my car here.”

“No one is going to touch it. The police are keeping watch for the rest of the night in case the intruder had an accomplice. They’ll be doing frequent patrol sweeps to make certain.”

“There wasn’t anyone else. Just him.”

“That you saw, until the power went out and you lost the monitors.”

You fold your arms across your chest, trying to think of a comeback. “Do you ever sleep? How come you’re always so wide awake in the middle of the night?”

He glances over at you and smirks, flicking a finger over the tip of his nose before returning to view the road. It’s deserted at this hour. “Coffee. I tried to tell you.”

“It tastes awful.” You’ve never admitted it out loud before.

“I never said it doesn’t. It’s much like alcohol in that regard. It has to be tempered to make it palatable.”

“This isn’t the way to my apartment,” you realize out loud.

“I’m not taking you to your place. I’m taking you to mine.”

“Oh,” you say softly.

“Any more complaints?”

“No.” You stare hard out the window. You hadn’t been expecting this. Any of this. How was it possible for this man to keep disarming you at every turn?

“Good.”

A house. He lives in a house, you silently answer the question you’d wondered previously. Two stories. Two car garage that he neglects to use, pulling into the driveway. You realize suddenly you’ve never once asked if he was married or had children. You’d just assumed.

Just assumed he was alone and waiting for you to fall, quite literally, into his lap.

It seems like a big living space for one person, but you don’t dare question it. You follow him meekly inside. He tosses the keys onto a table by the door, flicking on the lightswitch and then turning the deadbolt.

So far today you’ve gotten eaten out in the career counselor’s office, sucked his dick, almost gotten hurt by a trespasser at your job, possibly rescued? by a monster rabbit that doesn’t really exist and now you were in said career counselor’s home. All in the span of less than twelve hours. Unbelievable.

“I’m sure you’re ready to knock out. The master bedroom’s up here,” he invites, ascending the nearby stairs.

“What, I’m not going to spend the night on the couch?”

“You’re getting awfully mouthy. I’m not certain I like this new brashness,” he tosses over his shoulder as he continues climbing the stairs.

“You liked the mouthiness earlier,” you mutter softly, thinking he won’t hear you.

“I can see I’ve been too lenient.”

Oh, he’d heard.

You both reach the top of the stairs and he leans, reaching around you to flip the hall lights back off. Suddenly you’re in the dark again. Listening to breathing.

His hand finds yours. You’re pulled into one of the nearby rooms and a lightswitch is flipped, partially alleviating the tense moment. You watch him rummage in a dresser for a shirt, tossing it at you and pointing as you hastily clutch it to your chest. “Bathroom’s that way. Get changed.”

As if you’d want to sleep in the security uniform, especially after being on the floor of the restaurant. You wouldn’t mind a bath or a shower but you think that’s asking for too much. You duck into the other room and quickly get changed. It’s just an undershirt, solid white. You stare at yourself in the mirror. What, exactly, are you doing? Spending the night at this man’s house. In his bed.

You run your tongue over your teeth. You want to brush them. “Hey, Steve, is there a spare toothbrush? I don’t want to rummage through your stuff.” You open the door to find him standing just outside. Your mouth goes dry again. Fuck, you want him so bad it hurts.

“Here.” He steps inside, crowding you slightly against the sink as he reaches to open the medicine cabinet, withdrawing what you’d requested. “Don’t squeeze the toothpaste in the middle. I hate that.”

You glance, bemused, at the tube with its neat, empty curl at the end. “What will happen if I do?” You murmur.

“Don’t tempt me.” His hand grazes your ass and then he leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

You don’t spend too long cleaning your teeth. There’s too much want in you, want for what’s behind that closed door. You open it and find him waiting his turn, leaning against the wall. You discover the comforter and top sheet are now pulled back. Slate gray. Masculine. You have pastel pink at home. Full. Not a King size like this. Luxurious. How many thread count in these sheets? Your head sinks into the pillow. Perfect. Not too firm, not too soft.

Steve exits the bathroom. Watches you get comfortable. Sits on the other side of the mattress and reaches for the light. Darkness again. You hear the sounds of fabric shifting as he gets undressed. You wonder why he doesn’t want you seeing him bare. Are there more scars? The springs creak as he changes positions, standing again to remove his pants. Back down, now lying beside you.

Your face turns in his direction. Your heart is pounding. His arm reaches, dragging you against him. Spoons laid together. His breath by your ear. “Be a good girl and go to sleep.”

You don’t want to behave. You want to turn over and touch and taste. But you obey. You close your eyes and try to soothe your racing pulse. You concentrate on the crisp feel of the bed linens beneath you and Raglan’s warm arms around you and you find yourself enveloped in slumber.

[bnhaobservation]

Ramblings about the Shigaraki family

So, the past time I was rambling about the Shimura family, the Takami family and the Himura family.

Well, I guess this is the time to remble about the Shigaraki family (as the family of All for One and Yoichi, not the family of Shigaraki Tomura).

PREMISE

In creating the history of the Shigaraki family Horikoshi went as unrealistic as he could get and more. Their backstory is basically a HUGE request for suspension of disbelief on how children, and more specifically newborn, work.

For start the children shouldn’t have survived and, to continue, assuming their survived Yoichi wouldn’t have probably grown that way, never mentioning the framing seems to blame All for One for things that are actually not his fault for no good reason (I mean, there’s PLENTY OF THINGS we can blame All for One for, why trying to do so for things that aren’t his fault?).

So I’ll split this analysis in two, first I’ll put the ‘in reality this wouldn’t have worked’ part, so as to get it out of the way, then I’ll go back to the siblings and re-analyze them pretending all the highly unreal things in their history are, by some miracle or extremely unlikely and unexplained reason, possible.

Mind you, this first part isn’t meant to be a complain, merely a list of what clashes with reality. Mangakas can ask their readers to suspend their disbelief and accept unreal things to happen in their story… the problem is this makes harder for readers to them analyze the characters’ behavior because they can do or are expected to do, what a normal person can’t do and this makes the message the author wants to deliver harder to pass.

Lastly... what follow is just my humble opinion. I'm not Horikoshi, I don't own the truth so feel free to think differently.

And okay, let’s start.

REALITY CLASH

Now… we’re told the Shigaraki twins lose their mother short after being born. All for One manages to steal her Quirk before she dies, which okay, he might have done unconsciously… even though the other times he did so, he seemed to do it with purpose (as he needs to turn on and off his Quirk when he does so) and needing time remaining holding his victim for a while which doesn’t seem the case here but whatever. Quirk magic.

Now… the babies are then left lying on the ground next to their mother.

The problems really start when the flood of the river sweep them away. We’re asked to believe All for One managed to use his Quirk to cling to his mother, remaining on top of her and therefore out of water while at the same time holding his brother’s arm and keeping him as well on top and out of water.

We start with the first problem.

To use his mother’s Quirk to stab her, he should manage to hold his head still as he pierces her… but a baby takes about three months after birth, to develop enough neck strength to hold their heads up. They won't fully control it until around six months. More likely, if he were to activate his mother’s Quirk, he won’t stab her, he would end up pushing himself AWAY from her, never mentioning figure out he has to use it on his mouth and on his right hand to manage to hold on her. Newborn don’t use their mouth to hold themselves at something by biting it (they don’t even have teeth!) but to suck and are still trying to figure out they can grasp things and how.

All for One to figure out he can use his mouth and hand to hold himself and that he can strength his grip by using his mother’s Quirk which he has just stolen and shouldn’t know how it work feels highly unlikely if not outright unrealistic.

Now… a corpse can float as long as it doesn’t fill itself with water. Since it’s raining and the river’s waters aren’t quiet and she has on top of her two babies (newborns weight from 2,5 kg to 4 kg) not only I wouldn’t expect the corpse to take long to fill itself with water but also to be a very unstable raft.

Even if a baby’s grip is pretty strong and Yoichi should weight much less than him, adults on an unstable raft have problems to hold each other… never mentioning this requires All for One to see Yoichi (newborns’ vision isn’t as good as when they’re adults), acknowledge that Yoichi is something he wants to keep, grab Yoichi and keep on holding him despite the unsteady surface he’s on.

But whatever, let’s assume he could do all this.

Babies need to eat about every 2 to 4 hours. How are the twins getting milk? In theory someone should have picked them up and, since society is still in place, brought them to an orphanage where they were cared for. The story though seems to want to imply from that moment on they survived on their own which is… well above a baby’s abilities as newborn don’t even know how to crawl.

Horikoshi then tells us All for One was imbued with hubris and disrespect for others from the moment of his birth and views everything within his reach as his own possession… as if this were a thing that All for One was born evil. Problem is… this is how all the infants see the world and it’s only around preschool age (but sometimes it drags on longer) THEY ARE TAUGHT the world doesn’t revolve around them, as well as to empathize with others. They’re all like that and meant to be taught to grow out of it, it’s not something that’s characteristic of All for One only or of evil people only.

In the scene in which All for One beat people and Yoichi tries to stop him Yoichi is missing his milk teeth meaning he just started being of school age (you lose milk teeth at 5/6) and the two seem to live on their own, meaning they aren’t in an orphanage.

Long story short, when All for One was a newborn being as selfish and egocentric as he could was absolutely normal and since apparently no one taught him that it wasn’t the right behavior, it was unlikely he would stop… and here comes the second problem as… Yoichi instead somehow learnt it!

Yes, it could be because All for One is taking care of Yoichi so in a way Yoichi has someone to act as a caretaker but… All for One shouldn’t even have known how to take care of him, that Yoichi too, like himself needed to be feed! We’re told Yoichi is weak and sickly, this would mean he shouldn’t have survived if not properly taken care of meaning he needed food, staying in a warm, clean place, and possibly medicines and so on. There should be an adult in this story taking care of them in their earlier FORMATIVE years, but there’s no mention of this, to the point that it’s ALL FOR ONE WHO NAMES YOICHI and is aware he’s his sibling and the same goes for Yoichi… who doesn’t give up on his older brother because he has faint memories of All for One’s hand holding his arm when they were newborns and wants to believe his brother’s grip had been gentle and kind. Note that people don’t have memories that date to their birth… and if All for One’s grip had been gentle and kind, Yoichi would have slipped from his grasp and drown. That wasn’t the moment to be gentle but to hold tight but neither baby should remember the whole thing so not only a gentle grip would be unrealistic but shouldn’t be remembered.

Apparently Yoichi has no other nice memory of All for One… even though it’s supposedly All for One who takes care of him because we see him as a kid finding hard to stand so it should be All for One who provides him with food and clothes.

Also, although it’s just an explanation the fact that All for One stole the nutrients provided by his mother while they were in the wombs seems to speak ill of him but Twin-to-Twin Transfusion Syndrome is a pregnancy condition that involves imbalanced blood flow between identical twins. The imbalance deprives one twin of the nutrients it needs while providing an excess of nutrients to the other twin and can be fatal TO BOTH. It’s not a sign one of the babies is greedy, it’s a sign the pregnancy is having problems.

All for One has plenty of faults but he’s not born evil due to a pregnancy condition or having the exact same mentality all the newborns have. The framing instead seems to want to paint him as such. Of course there’s the possibility Horikoshi wants his readers to realize this, that the framing is unsympathetic because it’s meant to be unreliable. I don’t know but, for me, it doesn’t really work well.

To make up for it the framing for Yoichi is extremely positive but… Yoichi is actually presented as a fundamentalist Hero, the kind that would make Stain happy with his Quirks can’t be used for personal gain (Heroes use their Quirk to save people but gets paid to do so, hence they get a personal gain. If Quirk use has to be completely selfless we go back to Stain’s ideals of how being a Hero can’t be a job), but he fails at being a positive figure in All for One’s life as he can’t influence him positively in the slightest.

Last but not least, Yoichi claims he’s teaching himself how to read. While it’s possible to teach yourself how to read, generally you need someone to help you connect the written shapes of letters (or, in his case, kana/kanji) to the sounds. If the kids are alone without a supervising adult reading for them, and therefore indirectly giving them help to connect the kana/kanji to the sounds they make and give them reading directions, they shouldn’t even be capable to know in which sense the reading should go… actually it should have taken Yoichi time even to figure out if the manga should have been read in the western or in the Japanese manner because no one was there to help him figure out this or in which order to watch the images and this isn’t always easily intuitive.

Anyway, with this we end the part where I discuss the points in which the past of the Shigaraki twins distances itself from reality to the point it goes from highly unlikely to completely unreal without additions/adjustments Horikoshi didn’t seem to plan to include.

Due to this part I don't know if my analysis can be reliable because I tend to make them according to how the mind, the psychology and the development of people work in reality in addition to what it's told in the story. If the story distances too much from reality... well, I can easily be lead off track in my interpretation so consider yourself warned.

IF WE TAKE THE STORY AT FACE VALUE AND ACCEPT THE UNREALISTIC

The first relevant thing about the Shigaraki twins is that they’re alone in the world from the start, having only each other as company.

Even when they were in the womb and technically were with their mother, she was unaware of their existence and lived an unstable lifestyle which, in a way endangered them, never mentioning she died once she gave birth to them and left them alone in the open, under the rain and in a hostile environment as rats wanted to eat them and the river flooded short after, which yes, saved them from the rats but could have killed them as well.

If in the story this was meant to be a formative experience for the twins (in real life it hardly would be but we’ve discussed this part already so let’s pretend it would), All for One at the start of his life was presented immediately with lack of care and help and a world that’s a danger to him. In order to survive he has to take care of himself, he has to steal his mother’s Quirk and use his mother’s body to survive. As he does so he chooses to also save the other misfortunate creature that was with him from when he had a spark of life, his twin brother.

It’s not like Yoichi is presented as nurturing or caring or helpful toward him (quite the contrary, Yoichi throw things at him when he thinks All for One is doing something wrong and shares with him the fact he’s reading comics only when All for One catches him doing so)… it’s just Yoichi is there, with him, and doesn’t mean to harm to him in a world that either ignores or tries to harm him… and somehow All for One recognizes him as ‘family’. Yoichi is like a Teddy Bear to All for One, in a way he’s his security blanket. Yoichi was his sole companion, the only one in the same situation as he was and, apparently, All for One felt Yoichi should feel and see the world like he does. He wants Yoichi to see the world like he does.

All for One’s mentality of seeing everything else as his own possession, hating those who wouldn’t care for him when in need and wouldn’t provide him with anything is the one of an infant and he’ll never graduate from it… except in regard to Yoichi. Although he still labels Yoichi as a possession, the latter is of no use and provides him no care and yet he can’t let him go nor feel disgusted by him. All for One will label his feelings for Yoichi as ‘love’. It’s clear it’s not healthy love, the one in which you care for the other and asks for nothing back, it’s selfish love, the one in which you think you own the other and the other has no agency in this.

What about Yoichi instead?

While All for One is the one who has to fight for their survival… Yoichi doesn’t. He gets saved by All for One. Where All for One doesn’t have anyone to help him, Yoichi has someone. If we’ve to accept no adult took care of them… Yoichi’s survival was entirely dependent on his older brother (and, later, Yoichi will also get saved by Kudō). All for One is clearly a terrible caretaker as selfish as he is, but he still is Yoichi’s caretaker. Yoichi has better clothes than All for One has (his clothes fit him when All for One has some cloth tied around himself), we see Yoichi as a child can’t seem to be able to move (he seems to be crawling on the ground) so he can’t provide himself for food, which means All for One goes out of his way to search food for him too.

I’ll stretch things a bit and assume that, since Yoichi is weak and is being provided for, this helped him to feel empathy with other people who are weak and therefore, when said people get abused by his brother he feels bad for them and so he didn’t want All for One to hurt them (it usually doesn’t work like that in real life but it happens all the time in manga so let’s assume that’s what Horikoshi is going for).

Yoichi though, is unsuitable as a morality pet (I’m not looking down at him, ‘morality pet’ is the name of a role trope/archetype in tales) who will lead to All for One becoming a good person.

In fact All for One will claim he wants to become a evil overlord because he wants a world that exists for his sake and his alone. Basically no one cared about him when he was in need so he now wants to force the world to do so. His wish is an answer to the pain he felt when he cried and screamed and no one came to help.

He wants to be loved and nurtured the way he wasn’t as a kid (being loved and nurtured is a kid’s PRIMARY NEED and if the kid doesn’t get it, there’s a GIANT size chance the kid will receive serious psychological damage that will carry over to adulthood) but, since he didn’t receive such things, he didn’t even know how to ask for them or what actually he’s looking for. He’s still an infant in a way, instead than trying to become a person that can be loved and nurtured by others, he just wants to impose himself over them the way a newborn wants, making everything ‘all for his sake’.

So All for One wants to identify with the person whom, he thinks, has what he’s missing, the evil guy of the comics whom everyone serves, even if out of fear (talk about comics having a negative formative impact on him). This is his power fantasy, only All for One has power enough he can turn his fantasy into reality.

Yoichi has a different dream, he wasn’t completely neglected, he was (poorly) taken care of but he’s powerless so his power fantasy is becoming the Hero who’s fighting hard against a enemy and will eventually gain power enough to defeat him. The comic is formative for him too, as it gives him the idea good should always prevail on evil as the Hero will eventually win… THROUGH FIGHTING THE BIG BAD.

It’s meaningful that when Yoichi sees his brother hurting others he throws a can to him, attempting to hurt him in retaliation (and only ending up on being hurt back)… where Midoriya, in the first chapter, stood in front of the boy Bakugō was hurting and it’s Bakugō who attacks him. Midoriya focused on protecting, Yoichi focused on attacking.

Now I’m… not sure if this is done on purpose or it’s a flaw on Horikoshi’s part but in the story we don’t have Yoichi giving All for One a single meaningful speech or do a single meaningful thing that could have a chance to move his brother enough to make him change his path. I mean… we get All Might preaching about how Yoichi has a strong sense of justice… but the way all this is shown is merely by having Yoichi refusing to join his brother and giving him moral speech like how meta powers shouldn’t be used for personal gain ( “異能”は私利私欲に使うべきじゃない ‘“Inō” wa shiri shiyoku ni tsukaubeki janai’) and how bad it is that All for One is doing this to fulfill his own personal desires… which is not really convincing to me because:

- in the BNHA superpowers are used for personal gain as Heroes get paid and it was Stain the one who complained against it but the story set up Stain as an extremist, not as someone who’s right…

- the problem isn’t really that All for One is trying to fulfill his own desires (there’s nothing wrong in fulfilling your desires!) but that his own desires are harmful to others…

…and can’t be convincing to All for One because it basically doesn’t answer to All for One’s needs, but just tell him what he can’t do. Yoichi doesn’t tell him ‘I care for you, I want to take care of you, if you were to help people and let them know you they would care for you and help you too so you don’t need to do this’ but ‘don’t do this because it’s morally bad’ even though people around them is using their superpowers for personal gain and acting to fulfill their own desires at their expense. It’s not a solid argument for an ordinary person, for someone who has the maturity level of a newborn like All for One is… well, totally ineffective.

We’ve the same problem when All for One calls there two people and turn them into his allies by HELPING THEM, giving them what they NEED to stop being in misery.

Yoichi’s “Don’t do it…! There’s no coming back” (ダメだ…!戻れなくなるぞ ‘Dame da…! Modorenaku naru zo’) is the opposite of persuasive as those people don’t want to come back, they don’t want to go back as they were, they were miserable as they were, like Lady Nagant they hope that the world All for One will bring will be better than the current one because the current one is terrible to them.

There’s no understanding of what moves others nor the presenting of other better options available.

Yoichi is not persuasive at all, with such words he can’t hope to change anyone’s mind… though I don’t know if it’s a flaw in Yoichi or a flaw in writing (as in Horikoshi believes Yoichi’s ‘noble’ words would move others but they don’t work on All for One because the guy is a bad guy and they don’t work on those people because they’re weak and so they fall prey of All for One).

Anyway, due to Yoichi’s inability to drive his point across (possibly because he is unable to see the needs of All for One and empathize with them so doesn’t know how to respond to them in a way that would move his brother), Yoichi is unable to positively influence his brother. He remains, unyieldingly, in his ‘noble’ position, but doesn’t get a single progress with his brother.

All for One also doesn’t make progresses. He’s vocal about how he loves Yoichi, but doesn’t actually know how to love people because, again, he’s as mature as a toddler. He jails Yoichi, forces a Quirk on him thinking this will help him see things his way, but, even though he actually gives a much better speech than Yoichi, he doesn’t understand him and why he’s refusing.

In a way the twins are similar, they both have a power fantasy and aren’t willing to compromise on it or to genuinely try to put themselves in each other shoes to REALLY meet each other middle way.

In theory it makes sense they can’t, due to their upbringing they weren’t taught to do so, to reach each other midway (which is something very different from what All for One is doing in chap 193), to compromise and find a way to be they both can accept.

Ultimately Yoichi escapes, supposedly planning to fight his brother and All for One ends up murdering him… and then regretting it immediately after because again, his outburst that cause Yoichi’s death is the one of a little child who doesn’t see the consequences of his actions.

All for One saves Yoichi’s hand, he chases what remains of Yoichi in form of his Quirk for YEARS, he hates Kudō who took Yoichi from him to the point he didn’t just murder Kudō but all the women and children who were close to him so as to make sure to end his bloodline, he feels empty inside without Yoichi.

It’s ironic because, even though I think Horikoshi’s idea is to have both brothers love each other, it’s actually only All for One the one who shows his love. Sure, it’s a VERY TWISTED, VERY SELFISH form of  love, in fact, if All for One’s interest for Tenko can be compared to the one of a predator who took a young child and manipulated him into doing his bidding, his love for Yoichi can be compared to the one of a selfish, jealous boyfriend who would kill his girlfriend should she look at someone else.

With this I’m not saying All for One’s love is incestuous, because it’s not represented as sexual (or even romantic) in nature. All for One’s warped love for Yoichi is likely meant to be the reflection of a childhood need, it’s twisted and selfish because it’s comparable to the one of an infant for his mother, not of an adult man for a potential partner.

Now… very likely since All for One is so psychologically damaged Yoichi’s love wouldn’t have managed to compensate and make All for One a normal person but the bad part in the story is that Yoichi is never shown giving him love.

I’m not saying he should have done it when All for One was trying for world domination but, in the flashbacks about their childhood, along with the scene in which he threw a can at him, there could have been a scene in which he… I don’t know, covered him while he was sleeping or cuddled close or bandaged his wounds or something. Instead it seems if All for One hadn’t caught him, Yoichi would have kept from him even the fact he was reading comics.

It’s, I fear, a problem in writing, possibly Horikishi assumed it wasn’t needed to show it because Yoichi is a good person so of course he would love his older brother, it’s just All for One who’s not catching it up and being content with what Yoichi is giving him, and maybe for Japanese readers it’s obvious but… as a western reader I can’t see it.

Yoichi’s love instead is hardly depicted. Yoichi is this paragon of virtue that wouldn’t yield to him but… he’s not shown giving him (brotherly) love, we’re only told he wouldn’t give up to him due to his wish to picture All for One held him gently when they were newborn. I’m confident he loved his brother because that’s what’s socially expected of him, so Horikoshi likely gave him this trait despite how Yoichi can’t forgive what All for One did but… it’s not really something the story digs into, in a way Nana shows more care for Tenko than Yoichi for his brother. Again, possibly is a narrative problem, All for One is meant to be the ultimate evil so Yoichi has given up on him, we’ve to be satisfied with him dying, if his brother were to weep for him we might feel bad… but still this doesn’t paint Yoichi as a brother who, at a certain point had loved All for One, we just have a box saying something along the line but no visual proof.

Yoichi will go and develop attachment for his saviors, Kudō and Bruce, and for Midoriya, who represents the perfect Hero Yoichi believed in (and, likely, for the past One for All users), where All for One can’t really attach to people, not even to Tomura whom he raises to be similar to him (he leads Tomura to kills his family by accident and rage, in the same way he has done with Yoichi, and All for One gives him their hands same as he was holding Yoichi’s hand, and raises him into his beliefs telling him it’s okay to kill people) and who loves and respect him. To All for One, Tomura is just his next body. For him his ‘friends’ are all ‘expendable’, which includes Machia and, likely, Garaki. None of them can replace Yoichi. None of them can provide him with the love and care he needs to satisfy his soul. There’s probably no way to provide him that, his idea if he were to have Yoichi back he would feel fulfilled is likely doomed to fail, he can’t fill the black hole there’s inside his soul, if he were to have Yoichi back he would delude himself he’s happy but he would still crave for more. It would never be enough because it would never be healthy.

Yoichi instead… doesn’t need him, he’s satisfied with dying as a Hero. Yoichi is focused on his goal and while his goal is a good one for humanity… it remains a power fantasy for Yoichi to feel fulfilled all the same… which, I fear, is a flaw in writing. Probably Yoichi needed to be developed more, instead than remaining a stereotypical representation of noble ideals, he needed someone to dig more in his humanity, in his flaws, so that he would feel more human and less Mary Sue… but, I guess, there was no space in the story for this. Yoichi, as well as the other All for One’s users, aren’t really that important in the story, Yoichi is more like a plot device, the one who creates One for All and the one who gives a motive to All for One to chase the One for All users, instead than a character.

It’s probably also due to this that his reunion with All for One at the end of the story feels weak.

All for One has learnt nothing, he’s still the same as he were at the start, but he’s also desperate to have Yoichi back, he begs Yoichi to shows himself to him… but Yoichi basically shrugs it off, he’s more interested in praising Midoriya for offering them a final salvation… and with them I’ve my doubts it includes himself and All for One but I think he includes himself and the One for All users (‘Kyūsai’ 救済 means “relief; aid; rescue; salvation; help”… but also “salvation from suffering based on Buddha's teachings” meaning they finally might stop being trapped in between life and death and move on) who get to punch and destroy All for One fulfilling their lifetime goal and then can finally stop being vestiges. Yoichi also claims he couldn’t guide his older brother but again we stumble in the old problem. His effort to guide him was hardly shown and there is little regret in his words. Where the Todoroki family tried to stop Touya but also was there to express their love for Touya, Yoichi just seems interested in stopping All for One, no love involved.

So in a way it’s ironic, differently from the other families I looked at, here there are no parents who damaged their kids or pushed their values on them… but just two siblings who failed to love and support each other in an healthy way. One focused on becoming a noble person, the other decayed into a terrible person and, while in a way everything can be traced down to blame society (they were left without a caretaker with the world being in chaos and anti Meta mobs hunting people) the story really doesn’t focus much on this.

In the end, Midoriya’s final words about All for One being just a lonely man (‘sabishi’ 寂し meaning “to feel lonely” “to miss someone”) seem to miss the target. Midoriya knows nothing about All for One and his real problem wasn’t just he was alone (as he’d been bad even when he had Yoichi) but that he was ‘unraised’. No one raised him, cared for him, taught him to be a better person from when he was an infant. This caused him to become unable to establish healthy bonds with others and, therefore, to develop a healthy way to live.

So yes… he’s lonely because he doesn’t have Yoichi or anyone else… but that wasn’t his problem. Society has abandoned him instead than teaching him to care and so, as a result, he never learnt to do it.

Of course, due to the framing, it can be that this wasn’t what Horikoshi aimed to represent, it could be that he just expected All for One to learn those things by himself like Yoichi did… even when it’s normally not how it works. But well, this is a story so he can go as unreal as he wants.

So well, I guess that’s all for the Shigaraki family, which, in hindsight, wasn’t really that developed and, if Horikoshi hadn’t written those flashback chapters, I guess I wouldn’t have tried writing about it.

I hope you’ll forgive me if this isn’t as deep as I usually write this sort of meta but, not only there was little material but part of the material was ‘too unreal’ to make a realistic psychological evaluation of the characters and their motives… or just too vague so I tried to do my best but I might as well have failed. Many apologies for it and thank you for having read this piece till now.