#also why are they ALWAYS reaching for each other or angled towards each other

[polin-erospsyche]

Ok real talk here and I’ll preface this by saying I do not ship Luke and Nic together I just really love their friendship. But I cannot be the only one who’s highly highly bothered whenever they do not stand close together to the point of touching. Like whenever there is some kind of space between the two of them my brain just goes on high alert thinking things aren’t as they should be.

Like just for illustration sake:

Touching. Everything feels right in my little brain. Happy and safe place.

Not touching. Things are going haywire in my brain. What is that potted plant doing there? Get it away. Give them a couch so they can touch for god’s sake!

[fernandopiastri28]

you love me (i really do) ~ lando norris

~ part 1 ~

warnings: drinking, angst

Everything came back to her now about that night in a flash, the night Lando got a podium in Singapore. It had seemed like a blur in the moment, since the celebration had been so quickly swallowed up by endless shots, blaring music, too much touching, and the way Lando’s touch felt hot and heavy all over her.

He’d wanted to celebrate it, that’s obviously why he was crazy drunk- his eyes bright with the sort of excitement only a champion had. He’d been so happy, soaking up every moment of attention that blared on him. Sure, Carlos had won the race, but Lando had been enjoying each second like he was the one taking home the first place trophy.  

The photos and videos seemed endless. There was him getting out of the car, his toothy grin, the way his face lit up in pride as he raised the trophy high above his head. Each scroll past the photos felt like more of her restraint being chipped away at her body.

Her situation had become so direly drastic to the one she’d found herself deep within only a matter of hours ago. Her surroundings went from the blinding neon lights of the club, to the sudden dim shade as her head remained buried under layers of thick blankets. Her neck craned at an uncomfortable angle to look at her phone screen as her thumb idly swiped through twitter. It seemed like a bad dream, a bad hangover at that- all regret with all good memories just narrowly out of reach.

Seemingly, the whole platform had been going crazy over the ‘CarLando’ podium. The memory of seeing it first hand was beyond hazy for her, but seeing the photos now- it must’ve been the best of his career. Standing on the second step next to his best friend, champagne coated his face in a glimmering sheen under the luminous night light celebrations. 

Each new piece of media that appeared on her timeline caused her resolve to falter slightly more, being steadily replaced with the desire to bombard his phone with strings of apology texts. She shouldn’t have walked out on him, she shouldn’t have left without an apology, she shouldn't have ignored the three times he’d tried to call her presumably just after he’d woken up in an empty bed.

But she also shouldn’t have slept with him.

He was her best friend and not even a day ago, he was on top of her, all over her, inside her. Who’s to say when he did it with her would’ve been different? It was likely the exact same as every other time for him- have a good race (sometimes even if it had been a shitty one), get drinks, wait for a flock of attention from girls, give the most basic of compliments, ‘ you have beautiful eyes,’, ‘you’re fucking gorgeous in that dress,’, and wait for them to fall to their knees for him- literally.

Maybe it would wash over, maybe he’d be fine by the Japanese grand prix, Qatar at the least. He’d be fine, he always was. He somehow managed to consistently pick himself back up after each bad race, getting over a one night stand would be much easier than that.

Right?

Japan was the race directly after Singapore, and she didn’t attend. Lando wasn’t going to miss her, she’s pretty sure of that. After the initial few calls he’d attempted to make to her the morning she left him in the hotel, he’d gone seemingly radio silent. He was posting regularly on instagram, liking stupidly immature tweets, even hinting towards big upcoming projects for quadrant. He was.. normal. Unaffected clearly.

She took a flight to Australia, reckoning it was just about the safest place she could escape from Lando. The Australian grand prix was way back at the beginning of the year, and unlike his teammate, this wasn’t even his home, and he had no reason to go there.

She could camp out here for as long as she pleased- or at least until the middle of march when the 2024 Australian grand prix would be taking place. From the 24 of september until the 20 of march (give or take a few days), she had just about 6 months to sort herself the fuck up with him, or just escape somewhere else.

Trying to ignore all the information and blast of new media as the Qatar grand prix approached was near unignorable. McLaren was clearly confident about the track, and they believed that even under the unideal conditions of the track and the surrounding environment, that the cars were designed to fit each aspect of the Lusail Circuit.

And she wasn’t necessarily purposefully ignoring anything Lando related- in actuality she sometimes found her fingers hovering over a new interview of his. It was refreshing to see him happy, looking a whole lot better than she’d been feeling the last few days. So when her calendar pings as a reminder that qualifying was happening at 7 am, despite the stupid hour she’d need to be awake for it- she watched it anyways. 

Lando narrowly ended in 10th after his lap times were deleted. Oscar suffered the same fate, but still had the advantage of being 3 places ahead of his senior teammate for the sprint shootout. Unfortunately he suffered again in the sprint shootout, Oscar starting in pole position while he came narrowly behind in second. Considerably an impressive feat, but for someone who wasn’t satisfied if he was not very first- Lando couldn’t have seemed more disappointed.

The sprint was worse for him afterwards, dropping from 1st to 2nd as Max took his spot. Oscar retained his pole, keeping his pace throughout the whole race to eventually take home his first win (even if ‘ it wasn’t a real race’) as a rookie. Lando, once again, was not thrilled. After being in the sport for 5 years, he was still chasing the high that would accompany a win.

On the day of the actual race, Lando performed only slightly worse than Oscar- the two of them securing the second ‘McPodium’ of the season with Oscar on the second step and Lando in third. Beneath the sheer exhaustion, near matching grins spreaded across both of their faces as they proudly held up their trophies. There was no doubt that Lando would every let the fact that his rookie teammate got win before he did- that much was evident in all the post race interviews. 

There were certainly moments where she contemplated sending him a message, congratulating him on another podium to add to his collection. It did feel wrong though, appearing again out of nowhere when he achieved something notable. She didn’t want to come across that she’d only be there for him when he was successful. In actuality, she really just wanted to be back in his life. Surely a week without contact wouldn’t end the multi-year friendship they had.

But after all, a lot can happen in one night. Maybe Lando would gradually just turn into a distant memory of hers- somebody that she once knew.

At COTA, Lando secured his fourth podium in a row. He’d gotten 2nd in Singapore, 2nd in Japan, 3rd in Qatar, and back up to 2nd in America. This time, Oscar doesn’t join him on the podium, Lewis does instead. Two multi world champions- one a recent 3 time champion, the other with 7 titles- and Lando right there next to them. He’d be next, she was sure he would be.

It’s quite the sight, the three men stood up on their respective steps. Lewis- the past of formula one. The man who ruled the sport for years, taking home win after win. Only challenged by the very race winner of Max Verstappen. He was the face of formula one for the time being, and likely could be for the following few years. There were only a few talents in the sport who had the potential to fight Max for those future titles- and Lando was certainly one of them. He had a good car, a teammate who could challenge and push him to be a better driver, he had the determination- the drive to win.

Mexico wasn’t anything to write home about. She tried to not watch it, getting an icky feeling each time she saw Lando on screen because the only place her mind would go to was how sweet his mouth tasted. It seemed that the only thoughts that would flood her brain each time she saw anything related to him, her body went into a sort of remembering state when all she could think about was how she’d felt that night. He ended in 5th, so maybe she should’ve just not watched the race. His face was hardly shown beyond a clip of him just before getting onto the car, and then in the post race interviews. At least she didn’t stay up all night thinking about it.

Brazil on the other hand was a race worth watching- Max in 1st, Lando in 2nd, Fernando in 3rd. The gap between Alonso and Norris is insane, especially given Fernando was a 2 time world champion with more than 20 years of experience. He’d be next, she knew it. He’ll be a world champion soon, and her only wish was that she’d be smart enough and brave enough to reach out with congratulations. She also hoped that he’d be happy to receive one from her.

Notably the worst race of the season is Las Vegas, given that Lando crashed on Lap 3. He slammed straight into a barrier, his car almost flinging backward with the power of hitting a wall at 180mph. It was the only race she didn’t want, but hearing about it afterwards sent a cold sweat down her back. A sharp inhale filled her lungs and her hand stayed attached over her gaping mouth. She didn’t check how bad the crash was initially, and wad glad when she heard he was out without any injuries.

Finally, the season finale in Abu Dhabi occurred. After such an intense season (that she’d shamefully tuned in for more than she would’ve liked to admit post Singapore), it was almost a relief when the race ended, because of the realisation that she wouldn’t have to hear about Lando for a few months, until preseason testing at least. 

With the slight friendship (and possibly to be further blossoming) she’d managed to accumulate with Oscar, she’d found out the Brit was basically doing a world tour over the winter holiday. Places such as Bali and Vietnam, then all the way over to Finland- or an adjacent. She’d be safe, the only two drivers who would be in the same continent as her would be the two actual Australian drivers- Liam in New Zealand if he counted in the f1 drivers realm.

So she took the few weeks she had off of work- which wasn’t ever really solid as it seemed her career was all over the place, she took those solid-off holiday weeks to venture out to familiarise herself better with Australia. Sydney- she knew well, Brisbane maybe even more so. Melbourne the most due to attending the grand prix there every year for the past 6 seasons. But in all her time spent in Australia, she’d never truly gotten around to exploring Western Australia.

So she did what any right minded person visiting Perth who had connections to F1 would do- she reached out to Daniel and asked for any recommendations for her holiday. But instead of simply giving her a list of places to eat, shops to visit, sights to see, he straight up invites her to spend a week at his farm.

Yep, Daniel Ricciardo, farm owner.

Obviously, she accepted the invitation due to lack of other plans and pure interest about what a f1 driver of over a decade could possibly need a farm for. So the next day, her legs awkwardly cramped up in between her suitcase and the back of the passenger seat in the taxi. Her fingers idly drummed against the window as sparse pellets of rain hit against it. The sun blared down through the glass despite the rain- clearly a perth summer was no joke when it came to heat.

The timing of the car finally slowing down just in front of Daniel’s farm/house/home situation perfectly aligned for when her phone died. Manoeuvring her feet out of the tight squeeze where her suitcase was crushing her legs was her first problem, actually picking it up to carry out of the car was a whole different one. Once again, luckily for her Daniel was standing at the door, his signature grin lighting up his face. 

After a tight hug and a quick exchange of the past few months they hadn’t seen each other for (the time post SIngapore), he picked up her suitcase with ease and lugged it inside. The inside of his house was nice, beautiful even. That was expected for a millionaire- but it wasn’t the typical too much money, not enough actual taste , it was classy and elegant, while maintaining a certain homely charm.

“This is beautiful, Dan,” She murmured, shaking her head back as she gathered her hair into a ponytail. He barked out a laugh as he kicked off his shoes, 2 scuff marks on the ground ruining the otherwise picturesque place. 

“Thank you,” He grinned, “I try my best- or more so Heidi does,” Ah, that made more sense. Not that Daniel didn’t seem capable of designing a nice place, but the fact that it was actually his girlfriend made a whole lot more sense. 

Nudging her shoes off and over to join next to his, she gently stretched out her limp to relieve the formed tension in her back, “Heidi does a fantastic job then,” Her eyes travelled around the living room, taking in each piece of wall art and decorative choice.

Daniel’s dirtied socks glided smoothly along the marble floors, “Can I get you a drink?” He hummed, one hand on the kitchen island to steady himself as the other opened the fridge door. He grabbed out a beer can for himself and so out of pure convenience and not wanting to seem ‘fussy’, she asked for the same.

The harsh, bitter taste of beer abused her throat, an unpleasant and unwelcome decision at only 3 in the afternoon. On the other hand, getting her first drink down then meant that as the night progressed further, and drinks got heavier- she’d be somewhat prepared from such a light percentage drink. 

The rest of the evening was spent outside on the balcony, sipping beer and discussing the end of the season- how it had felt to get back to racing for him since the last race she’d actually seen in person was in Singapore where he’d been replaced with Liam. 

They spoke briefly about Liam at that, Max too- mainly his dominance that season, partially about him as a person in general. They moved to speaking about Oscar’s rookie year, and then unsurprisingly, the topic landed onto Lando.

Finally, in the last hour before midnight, with her legs tucked up to her chest, she looked to her left where Daniel was in a rocking chair next to her. “I hooked up with Lando in Singapore,” She murmured, her index nail scraping along the condensation lined glass where only the last few drops of her whiskey-coke remained. “We hooked up and then I just left him there,” Daniel’s eyebrows shot up, his lips parting in shock.

“I knew that,” He eventually exhaled, his words completely different from his surprised reaction. “LN told me pretty much the day after it happened, and for the following weeks too,” Shit, that felt awful to hear. Part of her had wished that Lando had magically stopped caring the day after it had happened- she wanted it to be easy on him unlike how it was for her. It was her decision to have left, he shouldn’t have to continue to feel so deeply affected.

The wrinkles in the corners of her eyes deepened as she looked down, a comical laugh escaping her lips. “Why’d you react like that then?” Her lips feel cold as her throat remains hot from the intense burn of the vodka shots they’d stupidly taken a few hours prior. “You looked.. shocked,”

“I was,” He admitted, downing the last of his drink before resting it on the corner of his armrest, the corner of the glass hitting the wood with a clink. “ I am , I’m shocked you’re actually admitting you just abandoned the bloke after a night together. He thought you would never mention it again- never speak to him again,”

The edge of passive aggression in his voice is noticeable even to the most clueless people. It made her squirm in her seat, the palms of her hands get sweaty, and a bitter taste filled her mouth. Daniel wasn’t the type to ever get mad with anyone, or even be any bit confrontational, so the way he was speaking to her seemed so out of Ricciardo fashion.

“I know,” Her voice was barely a low hum, self disappointment pulsing through her body. “I’ve felt like shit ever since- if that means anything,” When her eyes lifted off the wood panel of the balcony fence and towards Daniel, he was looking far out towards the night sky. 

His gaze met hers though, his bottom lip grazing under his teeth. It was strange seeing him that serious. “Doesn’t really mean too much to me, I think Lando needs to hear that,” Yeah , apologising to Daniel wasn’t going to do much was it? Lando was the one she’d left.

“He actually cares?” Her voice came out more surprised and untrusting than she’d expected. The scrunch of his eyebrows and twist of his lips in confusion gets her to keep talking. “Yeah, like.. I guess I just assumed it would be just like any other hook up for him,” Her hand carded through her hair, pushing it off her forehead. 

“He cares more than anything,” Daniel murmured, a slight laugh attached to his voice. He wasn’t mad at her at all, fully understanding her scepticism about how real the younger driver’s feelings were. “I know he doesn’t seem as if he cares about each girl he gets with- but he cares about you,” Their eyes meet in a sort of sad and poetic way. 

Daniel knows better than anyone the way she feels toward Lando, how she’s felt towards the Brit for years. Up until that night in Singapore, she’d waited for the day she could look at her best friend and not feel the most excruciating twisting in her stomach and cracking of her heart because he was the one thing she wanted, and the one thing she couldn’t have.

“In Vegas when he crashed, he asked for you,” The Aussie's voice had lost its humour, any sense of fun from earlier in the night having fully faded away. “So many times. He was hysterical, couldn’t understand why you weren’t there to hold his hand,” 

Holy fucking shit. She wanted to cry, a tightening sensation formed in her throat, becoming painful to swallow. “I should’ve been there,” She bit down on the inside of her cheek, the sharp metallic taste of blood spilling onto her tongue. “I fucking should’ve reached out when I heard,” 

He squeezed her hand tightly, his thumb squishing her hand up to reach the tips of his index and middle. “You had no way to know, you weren’t expected to be there either. You have your own life, Lando needs to know that,” She can’t shake it from her head though. “You’re not in the wrong, you don’t owe him to be there whenever he needs comfort. I think he just needs to know you’re not angry at him,”

Angry? Why on earth would she be angry? Lando hadn’t done a single thing wrong to her, she did owe it to him to be there when he crashed, when he was scared and alone. “Yes I do,” Her eyebrows drew to a pinch, a look of frustration clouding over her vulnerable near crying expression.

“ You don’t”

I do, Daniel. You don’t get it. I left him, I left him there alone straight after-

“He told me he loved me,” 

That got a genuine look of shock from the Australian. “Shit. I didn’t know that,” His voice got breathy and harsh around the edges. 

“Yeah.”

“Do you love him back?”

“Yeah.”

His hand left hers, moving to rub over his face. “Jesus,” It was so quiet between them that the noise of the near midnight light breeze was louder than either of them. “Does he know that?”

The muscles in her neck tensed with a deep swallow of the spit gathering in her mouth. Gross. “No. I don’t think he knows I heard him either,” She’d never felt more shameful. Her mind had been so fuzzy with alcohol and lust that it had just been too much. “I didn’t think he was serious. I didn’t think he could seriously love me,”

God, she needed to shut up before she began bawling her eyes out to Daniel.

“Why not?” She didn’t quite know how to answer his question. There were probably a million and one things she could give as half arsed replies to why she didn’t believe she and Lando should be together. The distance, constant travelling, lack of affection and physical ties. But Daniel could see right through her, he could see her lies.

“I’m just nothing like the girls he’s been with before. I didn’t- I don’t understand why when he could have absolutely anyone in the world, he’d want me,” She corrected herself, feeling far more vulnerable then she’d ever allowed herself to be in front of anyone before.

They’re no longer looking at each other, both too focused at staring up at the stars above them. “You make him feel safe. You’re the only one he’s always felt like a real person around. He’s not a race car driver with you, he’s not famous with you, he doesn’t have to perform and impress you, to you- he’s Lando, he’s your best friend. And to him, you’re home,” 

It’s difficult to form a single thought after that. So after the conversation pulled to a complete close, they both agreed it was late and they needed their rest. With a suffocating hug and reassurances that she’ll be okay, they parted ways- Daniel into his own room and her into the spare bedroom. His snores seeped into her room, yet they weren’t what kept her from sleeping. 

Lando was. 

She swore she could hear him everywhere, even smell him. She wanted him laying down right next to her, his arms around her waist as she slept with her head on his chest. He was the only thing that could calm her down, make her mind shut up for a bit so she could just rest.

Her head had begun pounding and her mouth became infinitely dry from the excessive drinking, so with a struggle to stand up straight, she headed downstairs to the kitchen. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and her clammy hands gripped onto the handrails as she took each step one by one. 

Passing through the kitchen, she grabbed a glass out of a cabinet and poured a glass of cold water. She chugged it down eagerly, getting a refill before heading into the living room to sit on the couch and drink the rest. As the couch became visible to her poor sight, she saw a figure sitting at the end further away from her. A mop of curly hair was on top of the figure’s head- Daniel. 

Clearly he’d been unable to sleep like she had. Maybe he felt lonely too. Heidi was back in Portugal over the winter break, so he hadn’t seen her in a few weeks. He was probably in a similar boat as her right now.

She felt so empty after the past few weeks, and the hug she’d gotten from him only a few hours hadn’t quite been enough, so she set her glass down and stepped closer. The noise of her glass hitting the table grabbed the shadowed figure of Daniel’s attention, his head turning to face her. “Daniel,” She mumbled weakly, sprawling onto the couch next to where he was sitting and wrapped her arms loosely around him.

When he didn’t hug her back, she whined and dug her head into his chest. “Please Dan, I need a hug,” Her voice sounded so desperate as it hit her ears. “I just.. I want my brain to shut up for once, I- I’m just so tired,” 

“I’m not Daniel,” Her heart pounded in absolute panic. Her chest rose and dropped quickly as she attempted to think of all the possible explanations. This couldn’t be real, this couldn’t be an intruder. God, how had she been so stupid as to not switch on a light or anything before practically hurdling herself at this guy? If she died right now, it was all on her for being a thoughtless idiot. 

But in a moment of clarity where her mind considered who could possibly be at the house that wasn’t an intruder, she scanned through each person Daniel knew with curly hair and a British accent. Lewis? Didn't have curly hair. George? Also without curly hair. Ollie? Too young for Daniel to be friends with. 

Oh. 

“Lando?” A sharp exhale left her mouth as his name slipped out. She twisted her head to look up at him, his features only slightly visible in the near pitch black room. Sure enough, big green eyes and plump pink lips stood out to her. Her face crumpled, her heart thrumming in her chest. “ Lando”

He clearly had recognised her too, his lips parting as his expression softened. His eyes felt like a million knives jabbing into her, his intense stare mapping out her whole face. The smell of his cologne was harsh on her senses, yet was the most comfort she’d had in months.

“Why are you here?” Her tone sounded accusatory, which clearly wasn’t intentional. The comment landed poorly, his expression contorting strangely. Not helpful . 

“Spontaneous Australia trip,” He didn’t owe her an apology, but something was nagging at him to stay, to engage in the conversation. It was the most he’d seen of her in nearly 4 months. He couldn’t even begin to express how good it felt to hear her voice after so long. “Came to visit Dan, maybe Osc next. Dan always tells me if I’m ever in the country I can just come over.. so” He trailed off when she didn’t reply, and his mouth clamped back shut.

Just as it seemed he would get up and leave, his actions tense and rigid around her, his arms wrapped tightly around her. Quiet. Her mind finally went quiet. It was so peaceful for once. “I’m so sorry for everything,” Her voice was hardly a whisper, her mouth slightly muffled by the thick fabric of his hoodie. “I’m sorry for leaving, I’m sorry for not contacting you, I’m sorry for ignoring you when you tried to call,” Her breaths became more frantic, tears piling up in her eyes as she looked up at him.

“I’m sorry for- for hurting you, I’m sorry for not being there when you needed me,” Her mouth and lips were so painfully dry, her tongue darted out to wet her lips before forcing out the final apology. Just as she was about to, his mouth opened as if he was about to talk. “Don’t say it’s okay,” 

She knew him well enough to know exactly where he was going. He would apologise for absolutely everything that had ever happened to him, even if he wasn’t the one in the wrong. “Most of all,” Her throat tensed as he stared her down intensely. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you back.” 

His lips shaped into a huge smile after a few seconds of emotionless shock, as if the news was the most impossible thing he’d ever heard.

“And you shouldn’t forgive me,” She shook her head insistently. That was another thing hse knew about him, he was the most forgiving person ever. She could absolutely ruin his life a million times and with a single ‘ I’m sorry’ , they’d return back to being best friends. 

“But-”

“You can’t,” Not only did she not believe she deserved his love, she didn’t believe she deserved any sort of forgiveness from him, much less for him to still love her after all this. All she wanted was for him to not have any hurt from the whole ordeal anymore. 

Lando tilted his head, his bottom lip tucked under his adorably gapped teeth. “You don’t get to decide that for me,” His eyes seemed impossibly bright despite the darkness, “Cause I want to love you, and it seems as if you love me too,” His right hand cupped her cheek, his thumb rubbing over her chin.

That was correct, she still loved him more than anything. She could fight those feelings away, give him all the excuses under the sun as to why she wouldn’t be with him- but her heart and mind wanted different things. Logically, dating a formula one driver who’s whole life revolved around travel and constant adrenaline- her life that consisted of a lot of mundane jobs and chilling at home, they just clashed .

The illogical part of her, the part that was thinking with her heart, believed that nothing would be better than to attend races, watch from the grandstands, and kiss him after each race. She could comfort him if he had a bad race or quali, she could be there to celebrate with after a podium or even a win. 

Right now, and maybe always, what her heart wanted was significantly outweighing what she thought was good for her. “Yeah, I do love you,” It didn’t feel or sound weird like it had when she’d told Daniel about it the night before. It felt good, really good. Very right too, because in all of her years of friendship with Lando- ever since she’d realised her feelings for him- she hadn’t ever admitted to herself that she loved him. 

But of course she did, it was clear as day. If she ever heard of anyone ‘liking’ someone the way she ‘liked’ Lando, she’d know immediately it was love.

Her confession felt even better when she saw how his face managed to light up even further. 

There was more she could’ve apologised for, and she could easily keep going, but she was quickly shut up with two lips pressed up against her own. Lando tasted just as sweet as he always did, a tinge of mint presumably from gum earlier on. 

Her lips didn’t adjust into the kiss at first, until he began to pull back and her lips secured over his bottom one, keeping him there. It took a few moments to warm up to it, but her mouth starts moving in time with his. It’s so quiet in the living room that the only noise is the quiet hums and sighs they both let out. “I’m really sorry,” She murmured again

His hands moved to position her body to be straddling him, not necessarily to make the kiss sexual, but to make the angle more comfortable. “I forgive you,” His teeth tug on her bottom lip, drawing out the kiss for longer. He grinned against her lips, kissing her softer over and over. “And I love you,” He murmured again. “So- please- stop- apologising,” He kissed her in between each word, trying to push forward his point.

It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders, “Okay,” Her cheeks felt hot to the touch, painted a darker shade of rosy red with each kiss. “Sorry,”

Lando groaned, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her in for more kisses. “For each time you apologise, I’m gonna shut you up with kisses,” He threatened, nudging her cheek with his nose.

“Sorry, but I’m gonna keep saying sorry then. Sorry, sorry, sorry” He kept his promise, kissing her after each and every apology. “Mmm, yeah. Sorry,” Her fingers slid into place in his mess of curls, tugging gently to keep him in place for each kiss. 

“Bad idea.” He clicked his tongue, tilting his head to avoid her kisses. “No kisses till you stop saying it,”

That worked. 

“Okay, I’ll stop. I promise,” She held out her pinky finger to further the promise. He kissed the tip of her finger and then held it tight. 

“Good,”

“Good,”

“ Good ,” His lips slotted back into place with hers, his hands resting on her hips as hers tangled further into his hair. “You’re so pretty,” He hummed, licking into her mouth with slow and calculated moves.

“Hmm, you’re prettier,” Her whole body felt hot, but so cosy on top of him. She hadn’t quite realised how tired she was until that very moment, her words slightly slurred and her eyes heavy. She rubbed at her eyes, blinking away exhaustion.

He shifted underneath her, tucking his hands under her thighs to help wrap her legs around his waist. “Arms around my neck,” He whispered, intentionally keeping his volume to a minimum so as to not wake her up more. 

Her body felt limp as she rested all her weight onto him. He lugged her upstairs, opening the door with one hand as his other arm remained around her waist. “Lannnn,” She whined as she pressed more kisses to his neck. 

“Yeah baby?” He murmured as he laid her down on the bed, her body heavy and weak as it hit the mattress. “What’s up?” Her arms dropped down to her sides as they unlinked from around his neck.

“Stay,” It wasn’t a suggestion or question, more an incredulously desperate request. “Please, want you to stay,” She tugged at the hem of his shirt, wrapping it around her fingers.

He gave her a knowing look before nudging her over in the bed, crawling under the sheets next to her. “You’re not going to walk out this time?” He raised his eyebrows, his teeth poking out over his bottom lip when he grinned.

“I’m gonna say it,”

“Don’t” His voice went serious.

“I’m gonna say it,”

“Do.. not.. say.. It,”

“..Sorry,”

Lando let out a long groan, hauling himself half on top of her to smother her with his arms. “You are such a pain in my ass,” 

“You love me,” She pecked him, fighting back sleep just so she could keep kissing him

“I do love you,” He caved and removed his arms, placing them on either side of her face to corner her and kiss all over her flushed face.

“I love you more,” 

“Not possible,” He tutted, “And you need to sleep- now,” He nuzzled into her neck, his nose bumping against her ear. 

“I just wanna stay up kissing,” She scrunched her nose up, her lip raising in disappointment. 

Lando’s laugh was breathy against her skin, his hand idly swiping across her stomach to maintain some sort of touch. “Tomorrow. We’ll spend all of tomorrow kissing- I promise,”

That was satisfactory enough. She stared up at the ceiling, a complete different scenario from when she’d done exactly this last time with Lando laying on her. This time, there wasn’t a single cloud of doubt in her mind. She knew how much he loved her, she felt right being so close to him, not worried for how things might change between them and if it would be awful the day after. She just needed to keep faith and keep communication.

As she felt her eyelids getting too heavy to keep hers open, she swiped her hand over Lando’s forehead to push his hair up and place a kiss there. He looked up at her slightly, and with a smile, “Oscar lives in Melbourne,” He looked confused, probably thinking that he was mishearing her from lack of rest. “Huh?” His voice all deep and scruffy from sleep. 

“The flight from Perth to Melbourne is over 3 hours- you can’t really just pop down the street to go visit Oscar,” Lando laughed weakly at that. He shrugged, wiggling up closer towards her so his chin was over her shoulder.

“He’ll come visit- he’ll be ecstatic to know that we’re on good terms again,” Her hand drifted up under his shirt, her thumbs pressing into the joints of his back.

“Oscar and ecstatic are two words that absolutely do not go together,” She mused, a complete disconnect from her mind and whatever her hand was doing. All she knew was that Lando was enjoying it based on the noises he was letting out.

“A half smile may dance across his mouth at the joyous information,” God , Lando had such a strange way with words. 

“You’re weird ,” 

“You love me,”

“I really do,”

[averywiseanimatedcat]

6 months on it still thinking about how much of a shock that kiss must’ve been to Aziraphale.

The way Crowley steers his cooperation around really gave Aziraphale no warning at all. I was thinking about the development of their body language and it’s interesting to me so have an analysis under the cut.

Crowleys body language doesn’t change all that much over the course of their history. After their initial meetings as angels then in Eden, Crowleys already leaning in, orbiting and slinking around in quite a comfortable, familiar way. He tends to angle his body towards Aziraphale and stands quite close to him. He shows no sign of being fearful or uncomfortable. He quite happily moves in and around Aziraphales personal space without a care in the world even when they hardly knew each other yet.

Aziraphale however starts out looking guarded and unsure. He often stands facing forward while talking to Crowley sideways.

As we go through history Aziraphale becomes more comfortable. He opens up, starts to angle his body more towards Crowley, stops guarding with his hands and moves into Crowleys space on his own. And he starts to initiate physical contact where it’s not even necessary.

But the only times I can think of Crowley initiating physical contact before the kiss are ones that could easily be written off as just friendly or something else like

The wall push (which was aggressive)

The magic shop handshake is practical for sealing the deal

The handhold for the swap (mutual initiation, also practical we assume)

Sitting on the arm of the chair and kinda sorta leaning on Aziraphale when Muriel turns up

Crowley also tends to reject Aziraphales touch by removing himself from it like in the 1800’s, dodging with some roundabout footwork or leaning away. With moments like the pub or the shoulder touch he doesn’t have much of a visible reaction. Granted his eyes are hidden but Aziraphale probably thinks he just doesn’t like being touched. And yes, apparently they like holding hands, but do they know the other likes holding hands?

And I can hear you say ok then why does Crowley always put himself within touching distance if he don’t wanna be touched? Yeah, he does, but from Aziraphales perspective Crowley has always done this. He’s always been standing close or leaning in. It’s just how he is. Aziraphale is the one who’s changed. He’s become walking megaphone just blasting ‘please hold my hand before I discorporate on the spot pleasepleaselpleaseplease…’

Aziraphale is clearly a physical touch being. Brilliant acting and direction with Michael and how Aziraphale reaches for Crowley in the most stressful or emotionally charged moments. How there’s times where he seems to stop himself mid motion from touching Crowley. Such as after Gabriels appearance and Az is trying to keep Crowley calm

When Crowley says he’s going to take the humans out

And when Crowley goes to take Maggie and Nina out of the bookstore when Heaven and Hell are there. There is a safety element here as it’d be unwise for him to show his affection with Heaven or Hell around but Aziraphales first instinct is to reach for him. And again, great direction and acting with how David just gets out of the way like Crowley does it all the time. It’s another dance they do, Aziraphale pursues with physical affection, Crowley avoids. And Aziraphale doesn’t want to cross boundaries he’s perceiving Crowley to be putting up around physical affection so he’s holding it back.

And I think all that is part of the reason Aziraphale looks angry after the kiss. He’s possibly thinking (among many other things) that Crowley has rejected or ignored his physical affection all this time, making Aziraphale think he didn’t want it when he did. And that would be a painful thing to realise when you thought you yearned alone.

So I don’t blame Aziraphale for being upset when he gets this sudden enormous dose of physical contact out of the blue. He had no warning. On the contrary, Crowleys been acting like a big, prickly, demonic cactus. And it would’ve been endlessly confusing to be kissed after years believing the want for even the lightest of touches wasn’t reciprocated.

[kpopsexstories]

QUICK FIX #22: NCT Muscle Hunk Jeno fucks you missionary style

Member: NCT Jeno

Content: Missionary, Female reader

Type: MEDIUM

Word Count: 907

This story is part of my Quick Fix Dirty Kpop Imagines series. Check it out for more smut and other members and groups 😊

🏳️‍🌈 There is now also a gay version of this story! You can read it here.

Jeno's narrow waist and big body always turns you on. There's something about his proportions that drives you wild. Now, when you see him through the mirror standing naked in the bathroom door – watching you intently with a seductive smile – you quickly turn around and let your towel fall to the floor.

“Wanna go again?” he asks and smirks.

You don't even reply. Naked and happy, you drop your toothbrush, rush toward the man and jump him with an excited smile on your face.

With his strong arms and your legs tightly wrapped around him, Jeno carries you back to the bed. You plant your lips on his and feel his flexing muscles, as he gently lays you down and climb on top.

With passionate thrusts and arms stretched out on the mattress, he rubs his cock against your stomach. You make out, full of desire, for the third time this morning.

He lifts his body and reaches down between your legs. You feel the dick as it gets into position, and the head when it pushes inside and expands your folds.

“Mm, babe,” Jeno moans when he penetrates you.

Towering above you he begins to rock his body back and forth. The dick goes deeper and deeper inside your pussy. The big man and throbbing cock quickly fills you up, giving you enormous pleasure the way he – and it – always does.

With his legs slightly bent and a hand gently massaging your boob, Jeno thrusts inside you at an angle. You smile at each other as you let your hand glide down his toned chest and narrow waist.

When he leans down to kiss you, you reach for his ass cheek and squeeze it. You push him deeper still, while he breathes heavily into your mouth.

“Mm, babe,” he repeats. “Mm, your body feels so good.”

“Ahh, Jeno,” you whisper and close your eyes. The last thing you see is his chest moving above yours.

He comes back down to kiss your neck. While his hand explores your side, he licks your skin and brushes his nose against your ear. His large palm gently caresses your face while he lovingly thrusts into you repeatedly.

He picks up the pace, and you raise your knees to squeeze his hips. The muscles in his ass cheeks tighten with each loving jolt of his lust and passion.

Slowly, he pulls the shaft half way out only to abruptly thrust it back in again. He repeats the erotic motion again and again, each time filling you with even greater pleasure.

Your hands are all over his strong arms and back. You occasionally kiss, only to bury your heads in each other's necks again.

His touch is warm and gentle, but firm and confident. He wants you so bad, all day every day, and the love you feel when he caresses your skin is unrivaled. That's why you know the third time definitely won't be the last.

As his thrusts grow more intense, they balance out until he's fucking you fast at a steady rhythm. He pulls your hair gently while his chest rubs against your breasts repeatedly.

His hand stops moving, a clear sign that you've brought him to the edge. Yours are caressing his back, enjoying the feel of his broad shoulders pressing down on you, and the firm ass moving up and down between your thighs.

When he's about to come, he straightens his arms and towers above you. He puts his weight on one knee, and firmly holds your boob while you glance at his cock sliding in and out below you.

“Mm, yeah, Jeno!” you exclaim when you sense his body changing and his orgasm approaching. “Fuck, Jeno!”

“Oh yeah, you're so hot babe!”

He suddenly closes his eyes and the hand on your boob feels stronger. His buff chest stretches out and you hold on tight around his biceps.

When he comes, he grimaces and lets out an audible groan. You too close your eyes and envision the throbbing cock inside you.

“Ahh, fuuck,” he exclaims. “Yeah, fuck, babe!”

He jolts his body hard, pushing inside you with force as he erupts. He slowly pulls out, then thrusts hard back in, emptying his load in several hot waves.

“Mm, yes!” you say. “Fuck!”

“Babe, you drive me so wild, always make me bust so hard.”

Then he slowly pulls out, one last time. You feel your lips' tight grip around the shaft, then the release as the head falls out of your body.

“Mm, yeah, you're so sexy babe,” you say while he sits up and you admire his figure.

He smiles wide at you and stands up. “Wanna shower with me?” he asks. He still has a hard-on between his legs.

You let out a laugh. “Babe, I just got out of the shower!”

“Yeah, but I soiled you again,” he grins. ”Made you dirty with my sweat.”

He waits for your response but doesn't get one. Eventually, he turns around and walks toward the bathroom. You can't take your eyes off his hourglass figure and tight butt.

Without turning around, he says: “If you join me I'll make you come. I'll eat you out the way you love.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice. “Fine,” you say and giggle. You sit up and slide yourself toward the foot of the bed.

The day has only just started.

[piper-2244]

unsaid

how gn!reader and spencer handle deeper feelings with each other- or how they don't handle them.

angsty fluff? some hard feelings? idk WHAT this is word count: 1258 warnings & tags & stuff: I was picturing mid seasons spence for this, brief mention of a spider?, insecure reader, ugh they're SO in love but also so quiet about it, ignoring problems, happyish ending author's note: first piece of writing on here! this is actually so bad but my brain is ROTTED from spencer fluff and honestly him in general, he's all i can think about so obviously i have to contribute to the epidemic

“HELP!”

You hear footsteps bounding towards you and the door to the kitchen slam open. Spencer’s head swivels as he assesses the situation: you, backed into a corner, clutching a glass, looking directly at a point across the room with a terrified look in your eyes. Spencer’s face immediately relaxes and he moves over to take the glass from you.

“Where is it?” He asks calmly. You point, and the spider is quickly dealt with and brought outside. Spencer walks back into your apartment and you look at him, blushing a little, heart still pounding.

“Thanks,” you say, self-effacingly, taking the glass back from him and setting it in the sink. “I'm sorry for bothering you, I know you were in the middle of doing some work, and I know that my reaction was completely irrational, it’s just-”

“Hey,” he interrupts, reaching out to trace your arm lightly. “It's alright. It’s actually completely justifiable. Our brain is wired to be afraid of spiders because they were a larger threat to our ancestors. Today, although we seldom encounter spiders and they are not a constant threat to us, we still have this fear because it’s ingrained in our DNA,” he explains, trying to calm your anxiety. “I’m also around 80 percent done with my report. So I can finish it later in the week. I'm all yours.” He peers down at you, a small smile playing on his face. You admire his smile for a second or two before his words actually register and you squint disbelievingly.

“I don't know how I feel about that. I shouldn't be taking you from your…duties,” you say, tilting your head.

“My duties?” he asks, matching the angle of your head, laughing a little. You shrug, giving him a slight giggle too.

“Okay, duties are the wrong word. But you do do important work that I should recognise has to take priority sometimes. I bet Hotch would rather you finish your report tonight.” He nods quietly, and you know he agrees. He beckons his head, a signal you’ve come to know means ‘come closer and hug me’. You do so, hugging him tightly and letting his arms wrap around you. You back away after a bit and give him a signal of your own- standing on your tiptoes and looking at him expectantly. He bends down and kisses you firmly, arms still wrapped around you.

Your entire relationship is built off of signals like these. You two just seem to know when the other wants something, whether it be a hug or a kiss, or something more. It made things easy.

So you were also sure that Spencer knew that this kiss was making your heart literally melt. It’s like he can reach in through your sternum and hold your heart until it dissolves in his hands. You can feel it dripping through the cracks into your bloodstream until your legs are jelly and your head is spinning.

You pull away for air and rest your head on his chest.

“How about we compromise and I do it tomorrow?” He asks softly.

Your mouth creates an uncomfortable line. “I know I’m obviously not the boss of you, so feel free to do whatever it is you want…” You pause, trying to find the words. “I just feel like it’s important for me to not take you away from your work at all.”

It wasn’t the complete truth, but it wasn’t completely askew from what you meant to say.

The real, slightly more selfish truth was that you felt like it was easier to send Spencer off to do his work than to try and understand why he wouldn't always want to. You constantly felt so raw and open around him. Like he could always see you and your melting heart. It was insanely scary and new, and not easy at all.

That was not something you were willing to admit today, not right now.

“No, you're not the boss of me, but I do think you have opinions worth listening to and considering.” He kisses the top of your head. He pushes your hair back and looks you directly in the eye. “But I also really don’t want you to feel like you can’t ask me for things. Being in the BAU requires a sort of responsibility. Not to just do my work by the time it’s needed, but to also take breaks and spend time with the people I want to be around. Whether it’s to catch spiders or to give her kisses. Okay?” He checks.

“Okay,” you say quietly. He looks at you patiently, knowing that you had more feelings in your heart but also knowing that it was hard to come out and say it. It was a topic for another night, a braver night. He dips his head down to you, and smiles, almost excitedly.

“Ice cream?” You smile too at the change of topic, and nod.

“Can we get changed first?”

In your bedroom, you throw on a massive white T-shirt that you may or may not have stolen from Spencer many weeks ago, along with a pair of shorts. You turn your head over your shoulder to where Spencer was digging around in his bag. “Did you pack comfy clothes? I know we didn’t discuss sleeping over or anything,” you ask.

“Uh, yeah, do you have a shirt I could borrow?” he responds, not looking up. You dig through your drawers and toss him one of his own shirts, this one Dr. Who themed and navy blue. It lands on his face and he swats it away. “Hey, I was wondering where this went!” He exclaims, looking up at you, offended. He takes notice of your shirt, and stands up straight and moves toward you, feeling your shirt between his fingers. “This too. Theft is in fact a crime.” You blush bashfully in response.

“I like your shirts. They’re cuter than mine,” you argue. He shakes his head, smiling. Soon enough, you're on the couch, working on a pint of Tonight Dough.

Your legs are intertwined and you’re laying on his chest, trying to get to the ice cream he was teasing you with, moving away as you chase it with the spoon. “Stop it,” you giggle. He wrestles the spoon from your grip and digs it in the ice cream.

“Open,” he says quietly. You do so, savoring the taste.

You stay like that for a good while longer, just holding each other, until you break the silence.

“Thanks for making time for me tonight,” you whisper, giving him a soft kiss on his chin. He looks at you and gives you a kiss on your forehead. A meaningful one. One that said a few things that were too scary to say.

It was nice, knowing that you had time to figure out your emotions, that there was no hurry. Your problems and insecurities would still be there tomorrow. You could choose to ignore them for a bit. You could look away from the fact that you weren’t exactly sure why Spencer picked you out of all the other girls. Spencer could ignore the fact that going to work was the most terrifying thing because he finally had something to lose. You could just stay like that, intertwined, inhaling and exhaling slowly.

You let the rest of the ice cream melt on the couch side table, not unlike your heart, neither of you strong enough to get up and put it back in the freezer.

[littlxpxtal]

Dress

TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence WORD COUNT: 2.8k

Our secret moments in your crowded room

They got no idea about me and you

Say my name and everything just stops

I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

December Continued

Rafe waits a few seconds before following me into the bathroom, keeping an eye out for anyone who might’ve seen us go in together.

“Okay take a few with the flash and a few without” I say, handing him my phone and propping my body up against the sink.

“Didn’t think I was actually gonna take pictures” he grumbles, sitting on the lip of the tub and angling the phone up towards me.

“Thats why I asked you up here duh.” I say in between flashes. “Lemme take some of you.” grabbing the phone out of his hands I take a few images of him before he stands up and presses my arms to my sides, pushing me up against the sink.

“I have a hard time believing this is all you wanted to come up here and do” he murmurs into my ear, pushing my hair back off of my neck, pressing a wet kiss on my shoulder.

I can smell the peppermint lingering from his mouth as his lips trail up to reach my chin.

“I told you, you were my photographer tonight.” I say simply, opening my phone to inspect the images he captured. 

“You know, I love to see you in all black, like you normally wear. But red. Red’s my favorite color. Did you know that?”

I did know that. I’ve known since we were little that Rafe always picked out red toy trucks, red swim trunks, he had red bed sheets back when he slept in a twin sized bed. I remember when we were little kids running around figure 8, he would wear a red cape. He also has a red scooter that he wouldn’t let anyone ride, except me. His notebooks in school were always red, and when he got a bike for his 10th birthday he got a matching red helmet. I had always associated Rafe with Red, I guess I didn’t realize it until now. 

“I remember” I say, finally letting out the breath I was holding as his hands graze over my body, pulling my dress up ever so slightly.

“I could never tell what your favorite color was.” he says, letting out a chuckle before pressing kisses along my jawline.

“You always wore purple bathing suits, but would throw a tantrum if you didn’t get the orange towel. Your bike was yellow but your helmet was pink. And you always wore those green sneakers until they practically fell apart.” I giggled, remembering those pair of green Converse I wore until the soles gave out. I smile at the thought of simpler times, when Sarah and I hung out every day, Rafe terrorizing us on the playground, always demanding to be it during tag, tackling us to the ground. 

Lost in thought, I barely realize Rafe is sliding my panties down my legs. I btie my bottom lip and look up at him, remembering all the history we had together, how we went from childhood friends, to hating each other for years and then to this. Whatever the fuck this was.

He turns me around to face the mirror, pushing me forward. I hear his pants unzip and fall to the ground.

“So what is it?” he asks, running a finger through my folds. I let out a groan and squeeze my eyes shut. “What’s your favorite color?”

He teases my entrace with his cock, pushing slowly in and out, inching deeper and deeper in. I let out a gasp and clench the sides of the bathroom sink. His arm snakes around my front, pulling me closer to him.

“Blue” I finally let out, and he pushes himself fully inside of me, covering my mouth with his hand. Blue, just like the color of the sky on a clear day in the outerbanks. Blue like the color of the sea from my back patio.

Blue like Rafe’s eyes. 

“You feel so good pretty girl” he growls into my ear, pounding me from behind. Our eyes interlock in the bathroom mirror, I fight the urge to roll mine in the back of my head, overwhelmed at the pleasure I was feeling from his dick and the sight of him fucking me in this bathroom.

There’s a knock on the bathroom door and my eyes widen in fear.

“OCCUPIED” Rafe shouts out, slamming into me, causing me to yelp into his hand. Tears brim my eyes and he moves forward to plant a kiss on my cheek.

“You like this don’t you?”  his free hand trails down my body, reaching my clit, and he lightly taps against it. I moan against his hand, bucking my hips up against his hand.

“Asked you a question” he says, placing another light tap against the top of my pussy. I nod my head aggressively up and down, speaking a “yes” into his hand. His palm was probably covered in my spit, and I feared the sight of what it would look like underneath when he finally released his hand. 

As if he could read my mind, he leans in close, his face against mine, staring at me through the mirror. “If I let go of my hand you gon stay quiet?” I nod my head up and down vigorously and he slowly releases his hand, and places it on my hip. He starts to rub circles on my clit and my head falls forward for a second, trying to control my breathing I squeeze the sink until my knuckles turn white. His hips rock back and forth at a steady pace, using his hand on my hip to guide himself. I can hear the sounds of skin slapping echo through the bathroom, and his soft grunts vibrating through his body, trailing up through my spine. I whimper beneath him, feeling myself reach my climax.

His tongue runs up my neck and I look up to make eye contact with him once again in the mirror.

“Cum for me pretty girl” he whispers into my ear before sucking on the sweet spot beneatht it. I tremble beneath his touch, my legs starting to give out as I come undone. I lean against the sink for support, and he pushes himself deep into me, leaning against my back as he finishes quickly after me. 

He tosses the condom in the trash and cleans himself up with a tissue. He bends over and pulls my underwear up and back on, pulling my dress down before he put his pants on. 

“I gotta go, Tops gonna be wondering where ‘m at and I told him I’d be sellin tonight” I nod my head in response and watch him exit the bathroom. I lock the door behind him and walk back up to the mirror, inspecting my face. It wasn’t as horrible as I thought it would be. I reached into my purse and started to reapply my makeup. A knock on the door makes me jolt.

“Occupied” I squeak, trying to mimic Rafe’s inflection.

“Its me” I hear Sabrina’s voice come from behind the door. I apply the finishing touches to my smudged lipstick and unlock the door. She slides in and locks it behind her.

“Have you been in here the whole time?” she questions as I pack up my purse.

“No I was roaming but came up here to piss. Whats up?”

“I’ve been looking for you. And Tops been looking for Rafe.” 

I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly and look back into the mirror, blotting my lips on a tissue.

“Haven’t seen him.” For a second I feel bad about lying to her, but I really didn’t want to have this conversation when I really didn’t want people to know. Not that I didn’t trust Sab, I just wanted to keep it to myself until I was ready to accept the fact that I've been fucking Rafe Cameron. 

She squints her eyes at me and I toss my tissue into the trashcan. I watch as her eyes trail down and she stares at the condom wrapper sitting ontop.

“Cmon” I say, grabbing my phone and purse off the counter, unlocking the bathroom. She follows behind me silently as we make our way back into the crowd. We find Topper, Kelce and Rafe in the backyard, sitting at table, with a crowd around them. I see Rafe with a stack of money in his hand, a blunt hanging out of his mouth.

Topper is laid back on the couch, head handing off the back, a bottle swinging around in his hand as he sings along to a rap song playing softly from a speaker. Kelce is railing a line, passing the little tube he used to a girl sitting on his lap. She leans down to the glass table and snorts the line. I look over at Sabrina and she shrugs. 

There’s no chairs empty for us to sit, so we stand idly around until Topper finally notices us. 

“My favorite ladies” he slurs. Sabrina giggles as he reaches out a hand and winks at her. She reaches out and he pulls her onto his lap. They start chatting about god knows what and I stand awkwardly to the side, looking around at the people starting to slowly leave as the party dies. I check my phone to see its 1:33. I hadn’t even realized how much time had passed. 

“Rafe why don’t you offer the pretty lady a seat” Topper finally says after a few minutes. He glances up at me for a second and scoffs, returning back to counting his final stack of cash before stuffing it into his backpack. Top lightly kicks him with his shoe and Rafe rolls his eyes, and pulls me down by my arm onto his lap. 

I lightly slap his face with my hand. “That was fucking rude.” I spit at him, ripping the blunt out of his mouth and putting it into mine. He stares at me in disbelief while Kelce watches in amusement. 

“Play some Cudi” I say to Topper, reaching over to grab an unopened beer bottle from the table. I hand it to Rafe to open for me, sprawling my body out more against his body. He grunts in response and cracks the top off with a bottle opener from his keychain.

“Actin like a real brat” he grumbles in my ear. I take a puff and pass it to Sabrina. I giggle and fall back into his chest.

“You love it” I sigh, my arm grabbing his bicep. My legs intertwine with Sarbina’s on the couch as we pass the blunt back and forth between each other before Rafe finally intercepts, grabbing it from my fingers, taking a quick drag. He grabs my face in his hands. I open my mouth in response and he leans closer, shot gunning the smoke into my mouth. I inhale, taking in the secondhand smoke and blow it out of my nose. 

“Wait that was cool I wanna try!” Sabrina exclaims after watching us intently. I grab the blunt from Rafe and push myself up on his lap. His hands stay placed on my waist as I lean forward and repeat the same actions Rafe just did to me. 

“Jesus” Kelce mutters, taking a drink from his bottle. Sabrina and I giggle at each other and I pass her the blunt before settling back into Rafes arms. 

“You need to get laid Kelce” Topper calls out across at him. He shakes his head.

“That’s my goal for this trip man”

“Where are you going?” I inquire, turning my head to him. The crowd has started to filter out, a few people lingering in the living room, the backporch empty except for us now. 

“Bahamas. We’ll be back for new years though. I leave Sunday” Kelce answers before finishing his beer and standing to get another one.

“Dudes totally not gonna pull” Topper jokes.

“Are you going anywhere for break?” Sabrina asks him.

“Yea we’re headed out to Fiji tomorrow, Well I guess today” he motions to the clock on the porch that shows its now 1:45am. 

“Damn. I’m just going down to the Keys” she huffs.

“You think Fiji is cool? Rafe’s going to freakin Bora Bora until schools back in session” 

“That’s still just as far” I finally remark.

I didn’t know he was leaving. I wasn’t surprised. The Cameron’s always take extravagant trips when the kids are out of school. I hadn’t asked Sarah where she was going this year, but we haven’t talked much since my birthday. I had also been avoiding her because I felt guilty about hooking up with Rafe and keeping that secret from her. 

“Where are you goin Y/N?” Topper asks. I adjust myself in Rafe’s lap, taking a swig from the bottle. 

“‘M stayin here. My family usually comes in for the holidays. They’re kind of a big deal for my mom. Both of my parents have big families and like to have them over for Christmas. It’s tradition.” 

“Damn I wish my family could stand each other to stay in a house together for the holidays” Kelce says in response as he returns, cracking open his new beer and tossing the cap onto the table. 

“I usually escape to my room after I’ve answered enough questions.” I say.

Not mentioning to the group how lonely it gets in the Outerbanks when everyone goes away. For the past few years I had been able to escape down to the cut where I would celebrate the holidays with JJ and John B, bringing them food from my family's feast and the handmade presents I made them every year. It made me sad to think I wouldn’t be allowed to see them this year. 

I also felt a ping of sadness at the thought of not seeing Rafe until we got back to school. I didn’t know why I felt this way. It’s not like we actually hung out, but I had been seeing him so often recently. 

“I think it’s time I head home” I finally say, pushing myself off Rafe’s lap.

“I can drive you.” Rafe says, starting to sit up.

“Mom said no drinking and driving.” I state, leaning down to give Sabrina a hug goodbye.

“Come see me before you leave okay?” I whisper into her ear. She nods her head, her eyes red and droopy. 

“Get her home safe” I instruct Topper. He smiles at me and waves goodbye.

“Bye Kelce” I say, waving at him before grabbing my purse off the table. Rafe is still trailing behind me as I enter the house. 

“I said no drinking and driving” I say, without turning to look at him.

“I know, I’m gonna walk you home.” I scoff and finally reach the front door, opening it and turning back to him.

“Not necessary.” I begin the shut the front door on him before he holds a hand out to stop the door.

“I said I’m walking you home.” I roll my eyes at him and start for the sidewalk. He catches up to me and stands dangerously close.

“You didn’t tell me you were leaving” I finally say after a few moments of silence.

“Thought Sarah might’ve shared that information with you.” I shake my head in response.

“What, y’all don’t talk anymore?” he asks.

“You and your friends are kind of making that hard.” I snap at him.

“I see.” he responds simply. A few more moments pass before he speaks again.

“You know we can like text and stuff”

I raise my eyebrows and turn to look at him

“Is that so?” I ask, a smile quivering on my lips. I almost want to laugh but I realize he’s being serious.

“Yea you can send me pictures of your cookies and cute little Christmas jammies and I’ll send you shirtless pictures of me on the beach.” I finally laugh and shove him lightly with my shoulder.

“I started watching Game of Thrones” he says, and I gasp in response letting out a shriek.

“AND?”

“Its actually pretty good. I downloaded some episodes to watch on the plane tomorrow.” 

“I knew you liked it.”

“I like the gore and violence. Not a fan of the incest” he says, nudging me back, a goofy smile splattered across his face.

“You get over it after a while” I say. My house not too far in the distance. 

We walk around the house and I lead the way to my side doors, turning to face Rafe, unsure of the proper way to say goodbye without making it weird. 

“You know she’ll forgive you right?” he says. I sigh and look down at the ground.  “I haven’t told anyone so she won’t find out from anyone but you, when you’re ready,” he assured me. He leans forward and places a soft kiss on my cheek. 

“See ya next year pretty girl” he says with a smirk, sending me a wink before turning around and walking out into the darkness.

Previous Chapter | Instagram AU | Next Chapter

[patchiko]

What ifffffffff AK! Jason with an s/o who's like the overworked therapist friend? Also congrats on 90 followers! Hopefully it's 100 soon!

GOTCHU ANON, I FUCKIN GOTCHU. N’ we hit 100+!! Thank you so much!

While I am not an overworked therapist friend, I have experience with people in my life leaning on me as an emotional crutch so I’m gonna do my fuckin’ best for u anon.

also reminder to set healthy boundaries for yourself, you’re not a bad person if you aren’t capable to handle someone else’s mental and physical problems. If someone ever gets mad at you for not handling THEIR shit, please know that it is not a good person and you are not wrong for cutting them off or setting boundaries with them. anyways—

AK!Jason x “Overworked Therapist” Friend as an S/O

SFW Drabble + Headcanons

You had just gotten off an three hour long call with a friend, deciding to make some pancakes. You leaned back on your counter as you set two pancakes on the pan and pondered. Your friend was going through a lot, a break-up seemed like the end of the world. But you understood that. Thats why they confided it all in you. You could understand and advise when needed. The physical toll, the constant conversation filled with overwhelming emotions, the never-ending turmoil other people always seem to stick you in, one after another. It made you wonder at times, if understanding, if being able to put yourself in other shoes, if being able to see at different angles, if being able to see every detail in a never-ending portrait that is someones life, is it worth it? Would it be easier to close your eyes, to turn off your phone? Is it worth? Losing the beauty of understanding, of being able to see the finer details that most seemingly can’t quite pick up?. Is it a burden to bear but a blink of someone’s life?

Oh shit!

Jason snapped his fingers at you twice while walking to the stove. You hadn’t even notice the burning smell of the pancakes that Jason was now flipping. “I don’t get it.” his husky voice was flat. You could tell, he wasn’t mad or upset, genuinely confused trying to wrap his head around something— oh the pancakes!

“Oh, I was spacing out and lost tra-“

“Not the pancakes.” He paused for a few moments, eyes furrowed as he thought to himself before speaking once more. “You work yourself off just by talking. I can see how tired you are after talking to someone about whatever bullshit they’re going through.—“ You always had noted that even if he spoke vulgarly he didn’t necessarily have aggression towards the topic. ”—You analyze over, then over, until you get it. Shit, you’ve probably thought to yourself something about me while I’m talkin’.”

Oops! He gotcha! He turns to you and reaches above your head for the cabinet with plates in it. “I don’t get why.” He said again flatly. He was closer to you breath just skimming your skin, but he really was just there for the plates lol. He took one then turned away, plating your two burnt pancakes with the one that looked a little undercooked, one that he made. Also noted. You took them and you murmur out your response,” I can’t just leave them, you know, they really feel safe with me and I can’t just blow them off randomly-“

“—Why not? They don’t do the same for you, some of them don’t even listen to your advice, and they don’t even fuckin’ pay you.” He attempted to sound humorous in that last one, but it his tone was still flat. He really did try though. You respond,

“The same reason you’re doing it for me, you care—“

“—The difference is, you do it for me too. So I do it for you, because we both..” his voice sounded endearingly soft spoken ”..care about each other.” You both paused, he was looking off to the floor leaning back on the counter across from you. “Listen, fine, I get it. You, care about them. But it’s taking a lot of your energy and time. So like, I don’t know fuckin’ pace yourself or somethin’.” He crossed his arms. “I hate— I don’t like to see how you get when people dump all of their shit on you. It’s not fair.” He was right. It wasn’t fair. Countless hours of you being up late because someone decided to keep you up with a dilemma, or someone making you late to something, you skipping meals cause your just too damn tired to move after coming home from someone’s monthly mental breakdown. He was right. It wasn’t fair. He stood up straight, his arms and legs crossed ‘Mean Girls’ style ,”Or I’m gonna start hanging up those calls on them in the middle of it. Thirty-minutes max or you’re charging.” You started giggling, trying to explain how he can’t do that in-between laughs. He smirked,

”Uh-huh, I will. Card only too.” He walked over to you, taking your emptied plate from you and putting it in the sink besides you. He propped himself up and looked into your eyes,”Just… Take it easy.” He reached for your hand, making a grabby motion at it. You place it into his scarred palm, his big ole’ hand making your hand look small. He took it softly and brought it to his lips and kissed softly. “Please.” He spoke softly again, voice cracking a little too. You nod, promising to find a way to get a even ground on it all instead of being overwhelmed with every call, text, conversation, you promised.

THE RED HOOD pulling up to someones house cause they won’t stop emotion dumping to you IK ITS A YT SHORT BUT ITS THE ONLY LINK I COULD FIND PLS SPARE MEEE — “Run yo’ pockets’ 😭😭

genuinely upsets him

He’ll still cook for you if you find yourself too tired after a that thirty minute call.

cause ong he wasn’t lying about hanging up.

had you lying to someone talkin about some..

‘ommgg sorry my phone died. 😭😭’

HE MEAN BUSINESS !!

He just hates how overworked you get, especially doesn’t like when he’s at a low moment and he already knows your overstressed and still comforting him.

JASON comin’ for that damn phone as soon as the call hit 30:01

HE DEF BE LISTENIN TO THAT DRAMA FR THO. MF LISTEN TO THAT SHIT LIKE A PODCAST. FACIAL EXPRESSIONS N’ EVERYTHING. 🙄😐😑😮😵‍💫😤

i had fun writing this. i need ak jason wtf☹️

PSPSP INBOX OPEN IF U WANT MORE! RQ SOMETHING! OR JUST YAP OG!

[shadebloopnik]

"The only thing more painful than watching you fall, is watching you lose hope."

Lets all pretend that I drew these consistently for a second. This is the first time I actually seriously made some sort pf a comic strip and am honestly a bit happy with it lmao (even tho that last Alastor leaves much to be desired, i cannot with the angle i chose). Angelic Alastor AU details and better taken pics of each scene under the cuttt

Man im actually taking this AU sht seriously huh- here we goooo

So AU summary, Alastor's an angel, though he's always been an odd sort and looked different from the other angels. His name is still Alastor, though he is also known by his title, Altruist. As time went on, it was the name nearly everyone knew him by.

He was close with Lucifer, who both admired each other's fantastical ideas, and oddity from the others. He was closely involved with Lucifer and Lilith, helping keep their relationship a secret. He was devastated when they both fell, having managed to keep his own involvement hidden(after countless pleading from the two to keep himself safe). Im a radioapple addict by heart lmao, but this is gearing more towards a poly between the three of them. Alastor was quite slow in processing his feelings for the two, even with Lucifer having already harbored feelings for him for ages, and Lilith being pretty forward.

After a couple events and other drama and detailsss, Alastor arrives at the Hazbin Hotel after he heard about Charlie. He sees her like a daughter, and it hurt him to know that Lucifer and Lilith left her behind in such a manner. He still doesn't believe in redemption(he's an angel, he knows those fuckers), but he still supports Charlie anyway he could. He still acts super creepy and all, but has good intentions. He lives a somewhat double life, juggling his appearance between being Altruist in Heaven and Alastor in Hell.

Lucifer, Lilith and Alastor, though initially had a rather stable relationship(as stable as you can get with one of them constantly smuggling himself into hell), had a bit of a falling out. Lucifer lost hope and motivation for everything, something that broke all their hearts. Lilith was a bit more fierce, wanting to take more action. Alastor was a sort of a mix between the two. He was cautious, and preferred to lie in wait, but wasn't as far gone as Lucifer.

Its why when Lucifer found out about his involvement with the hotel, he was absolutely furious. He didn't want Alastor to give their daughter false hope, didn't want her to reach for the stars only to fall back down, burned. He's too broken, and the idea that Alastor, someone who should KNOW how dangerous hoping was, setting Charlie up for pain, it hurt.

Basically sad old men lol

[tender-hearteddd]

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧

bertholdt x fem!reader

MDNI! modern au, college au, cowgirl position, mentions of a breeding kink, fingering, bertholdt is the best boyfriend, no power dynamics but i guess bertholdt is a pleasure/soft dom??? you can read it in that way if you’d like but he just takes care of his girl, that’s all

WC - 2.2k

A/N - my first smut :D can you tell im ovulating LOL also it’s kinda bad :( and unedited :( and not proofread :( so enjoy at ur own risk!

bertholdt is a gentleman - in every way.

never let’s you open up your own door, walks on the outside of the sidewalk, gets you flowers every week, even learned how to arrange flowers just so he can make them prettier for you, walks you to your dorm every night, will even rush to you if he’s not on campus. he has to make sure his girl is safe. they’re simple acts, really.

and those are not the only things he does to let you that you’re loved.

he takes all these pretty photos of you like it’s his god given right, calls you more than just the classic pet names but will call you his flower, his petal, his dove, his song, his love, his life, isn’t afraid to hold you in his arms anymore.

ah yes, bertholdt hoover is a true gentleman, in every way. kind and polite to everyone, is gentle with all the things he holds in his giant hands, treats you like you’re an angel (and you are).

that includes in the bedroom.

the giraffe of a man makes sure to always brings your small hand in his giant one to his lips and gives it a peck before he makes you feel things you’ve never felt before. he holds your naked body close to him and has his mouth on your mouth, creating an aura of your deep love and devotion to each other. He always makes sure you cum first, that you’re always ready before he enters you. He will never go too fast or too hard unless you tell him to. bertholdt prioritizes your pleasure over his, even if that means he doesn’t get to cum, seeing you orgasm is the closest he’s felt to godliness. he lays you down on his pillow, always spends hours loosening you up by having his fingers coax your warmth open, his mouth on your clit gently sucking on it as he feels your pussy getting soaked and your natural smell entering his nostrils. sometimes he holds your hips to his face and just devours you right than and there because he’s so desperate to taste you. will inhale your natural scent like it’s his favorite perfume, and it is.

you’re being too good to him, bertholdt thinks. he has no idea why he deserves the way your cunt hugs him but nonetheless, he owes his life to you.

youre a good girl - telling him earlier how you’ll take his heavy balls with no prep, only with the bottle of glistening lube he witnessed you lathering onto your cunt so you can “feel all of him” you claimed.

“at least let me make you feel good too.” bertholdt pleaded with you.

“no,” you briskly told him as you unbuckled his pants, “you feeling good will make me feel good.”

now here you are, your back glistening with sweat, your knees spread against his hips as you bring yourself up and down on your boyfriends cock, tightening yourself on the head of his long shaft when you bring yourself up, humping yourself foreword when you bring yourself down to feel him hit that certain spot that only he can reach. youre chanting his name as you tighten around him every time the curve of the head of his cock hits your sensitive walls in the most delicious way possible as you try your hardest not to cum, unaware that bertholdt is doing the same.

bertholdt can die like this.

it’s one of the most beautiful views he’s ever seen. beats any starry night, city lights, or any pretty sight.

the warm light from the lamp casts a shadow over you two - you sitting on top of him with your chin angled towards the ceiling and your features contorted in pleasure while bertholdt sits back and admires the beauty of your backside. a frank ocean song is in the background and for the first time, bertholdt can’t recall which one it is.

his head is against the one uncovered pillow he has on the bed his feet hang off of; a heap of hair is matted against his forehead as his body grows more warmer than usual, his left hand caresses your breast, playing with your tit and his right is on your hip, trying so desperately hard to slow down your bouncing. your hands hold his against your body as the only thing on your mind is the need to make bertholdt cum.

bertholdt’s eyelids are starting to feel heavy but he cannot dare to even lose a second of the sight in front of him.

bertholdt witnesses the way your hair falls out of the bun you put it in a few moments earlier and how it paints your back into an art piece that should be in a museum - but even artists cannot capture the way beauty drips from your body. you look back at him, with those pretty eyes and the way they compliment your skin tone, opening those pretty lips and begging him to

“cum inside me!”

bertholdt swears he might go insane.

your thighs burn as you fuck yourself onto your boyfriends cock until you can feel him in your throat, pretty eyes closed in pleasure as you can feel your brain becoming mush when bertholdt halts your hips against his pelvis just so he can bury his cum into your tight cunt.

bertholdt sits up and lays his forehead against the top of your head, trying to find himself in the smell of your sweat and hair products.

“wanna make you cum again!” you eagerly told him as you move your head away from his forehead to look up at him while you can feel his cock softening inside you.

“let’s take a break baby.” bertholdt catches his breath as he lays you against him, the two of you now laying down together.

“didn’t feel you cum.” he mumbles against your ear while he mindlessly traces little inconceivable patterns on your body.

“told you i wanted to make you feel good.” you beamed, swearing you could still feel bertholdt deep inside you.

“not the point,” he gently pulls you off his softening length out of you, groaning when he’s seen a bit of his seed escape. he sat up and sits you on his right leg and widens your legs for you as you hiss at the seemingly cold air you didn’t realize was coming from the fan in his room due to the warmth you and your boyfriend were creating.

“let me take care of you.” bertholdt whispered against your neck, suckling at just one of your many sensitive spots.

you think it’s unfair how’s he’s always pleasuring you but never him. he’s the kindest. too kind for his own good sometimes. you see the way people walk all over him, how people take his kindness for granted, how he’s always at his limit but never goes past it. you just wanted to take care of him.

“but you always do.” you protest against his advances even though you can feel that familiar wetness between your open legs right now. sure you wanted to take care of him, but god his dick fucks you too good - for youre own good.

“and?” bertholdt chuckles. “it’s my duty.” he half-jokingly said, knowing it really is his duty to take care of his girl. he trails his palm on your thighs to your increasing wetness, kissing that sensitive spot on your neck that you just love so much. his hands are bigger than any you’ve ever seen; bertholdt himself is bigger than any person you’ve ever seen. standing over 6’4, your big and broad man is fully dedicated to you and only you.

“bertholdt,” you close your thighs with his hands still in between them and turn yourself to him, closing your arms around his neck. your face is stern as your eyebrows slightly furrow in frustration “don’t you get it? i just want to take care of you the way you take care of me.”

bertholdt pushes open your warm thighs once again, you leaving an arm around his neck to accept the fact that your about to get your shit rearranged just from your dork of a boyfriends fingers. the need to make you cum fulfills bertholdt like his life depends on it. “you already have,” he whispers into your neck as he litters your neck in hickies.

the sound of your slick separating in between your folded lips makes bertholdt groan. “let me take care of you,” he whispers once again against your pretty neck, catching your lips in his, colliding his tongue with yours to taste you.

bertholdt lathers his middle and ring finger in your juices and presses his palm onto your clit, getting a moan out of you. wet with your natural slick and his seed, his fingers create the the same sound it did when you separated your legs. he has his palm giving slight pressure to your clit while his long and thick fingers stretch out your tightness and reach spots in your velvety walls no man ever has. he presses them up against you walls, stimulating all the sensitivities.

you moan into his mouth as he enters his fingers in and out of you with his own calculated routine he created as he took orgasms out of you throughout your whole relationship. he’ll thrust his fingers deep into you to stimulate your sensitivities closer to your cervix and once his fingers come back forward, he thrusts up to stimulate that special spot right behind your clit he knows you love so much all the while giving pressure to your sensitive nub with his palm every time he thrusts his finger back into you and putting pressure onto your abdomen to tie it all together. bertholdt knows all your special spots that make his girls head feel mushy - kisses on the side of your neck, massages your waist when youre on top, holds your hips firmly against his to the point it creates bruises (that he knows how much you love), pressure on your abdomen, tongue wrapping itself around your nipple, the many spots inside your pussy, hell, even on your pinky toe (but he’s the only one allowed to know this) - stimulating all these spots has his girl thinking he pays for it.

you separate your lips from his, a strand of saliva still connecting both of you two as if your guys lips want to stay together. bertholdt brings his big head down to your breast and collides his mouth onto your sensitive and hard nipples, wanting his senses to be filled with you and only you.

“want you to take care of me!” you plead to your big and broad man.

you’re chanting his name as if he’s your god begging for mercy with your legs start to tremble from the increasing speed of his fingers and the way they’re abusing your gummy walls as he fucks his cum back into you while simultaneously increasing your wetness. as with his long fingers increase the sound of your slick + the mixture of bertholdt’s cum and your pleas fill the air, bertholdt can feel your cunt invite both of his fingers. he can feel your clit getting swollen and your pussy getting warmer and warmer as it grips around his finger.

bertholdt takes his mouth off of your breast, a whine coming out of your lips from the loss of contact, “gonna cum? hmm?” bertholdt looks up at you with lidded/dazed out eyes as he can feel himself hardening. you nod at him with teary eyes and pretty whines. maybe you’ll take care of him like you claimed.

“mhmm!” you plead to him, over and over again, as you begin to raise your hips with the increasing, excessive pleasure bertholdt is sacrificing to you. but bertholdt doesn’t allow you to raise your hips to escape the pleasure. instead, he puts his mouth back onto your mouth, missing the taste of your tongue on his, his fingers fucking his special technique into you at a speed that should be illegal, the sound of your gushing, throbbing cunt decorating the room, his palm continuously making your clit throb as your sweet spot radiate your whole entire body. “more! more! more!“ you plead into his lips as he presses deeply against your abdomen, the pressure from your abdomen being your final straw as bertholdt has his pretty girl gushing onto his fingers/forearm.

you cry out in pleasure as you writh into bertholdts side as you can feel your cunt spasming and your legs shaking. bertholdt has his mouth on yours once again, you losing yourself in the way his tongue swallows yours while also simultaneously looking for your mind. you let go once again and whimper once you feel your body calming down. bertholdt holds you impossibly closer to his side as you overcome waves of the mind blowing orgasm bertholdt pulled out of you just from his fingers.

“all good?” bertholdt asked.

“more than good!” you beam at him, tiredness still evident in your voice “you always treat me so good.” you ponder.

“i can still feel you inside me,” you breathlessly tell bertholdt as you lay your head on top of his shoulder blade - still trying to find where your mind went.

bertholdt grows worried “is there something wrong?”

“no!” you reassure him, “i just love when you fill me up.” you gently smile at him, still getting over your orgasm. bertholdt thinks you’re the prettiest like this, well he has this revelation everyday - you’re the prettiest when you’re waking up, you’re the prettiest when you take your morning pee, you’re the prettiest when you poke fun at annie’s sidepart and you’re the prettiest right now, sitting on his lap, your head laying down on his shoulder blade, looking up at him with dazed eyes and a gentle smile on your lips.

bertholdt sighs happily, “come on,” bertholdt picks you up in his arms.

“where are you taking me?” you ask him.

“gonna take a bath together.” he whispers to you, a bit shy even when he just had the same fingers holding onto you inside your pussy.

“awww,” you coo up at your big and broad man giving him that pretty smile he loves so much “you’re a very fine gentleman my love.”

hope you enjoyed! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

[scottpilgrim-kgl]

>> SCOTT PILGRIM’S KILLING GAME LIFE : PROLOGUE

Word Count: 2,856

…

19 people—other than Scott Pilgrim—exactly how Gideon described it.

Other than the mandatory attire, there were cocktail drinks being handed out by butlers left and right. Of course, Wallace Wells and his friend, the Other Scott, as people called him, had run off to chase down just about every butler he could find to get more drinks once the ones they were currently drinking had run out. Scott’s gaze ran from one person to the other, naming off each of them in his head.

Kim Pine, Stephen Stills, and Young Neil were all back up against one of the walls, idly talking to each other. Knives Chau was snagging food from the small buffet and pushing it into her mouth while having a conversation with Ramona Flowers. Envy Adams—oh God, why did she have to be here—was trying to coax Todd Ingram into dancing with her, but he was too busy trying to find wherever Wallace was running off to. Julie Powers, with no one to shit–talk to, sat alone on the living room couch, taking gentle sips of her cocktail. Scott’s younger sister, Stacey Pilgrim, had just walked over to Kim, Stephen, and Neil to join their conversation. Lucas Wilson and Joel Macmillan were sneaking off into the backyard—most likely to get high off of whatever weed they managed to smuggle in. Jimmy Monet was also near the buffet, glaring enviously at Wallace as Other Scott followed him around the first floor. The rest of the five previous evil exes—Roxie Ritcher, Lucas Lee, Matthew Patel, and the Katayanagi twins—were all talking to each other on the other end of the living room.

Why did Gideon Graves invite him—Scott—in the first place? Didn’t he hate him? Or at least he’s supposed to hate him. But now that the League is disbanded, he wasn’t sure anymore. But what if this was just some elaborate plan to—

“Maybe you should stop overthinking and enjoy the party while you’re here, guy.”

Scott whipped his head around, eyes meeting the source of the sudden voice. “Wallace? When did you get over here?”

“I saw you just staring off into space from across the room.” His roommate explained, cheeks flushed, gently rocking from one foot to the other, and another drink in hand. It was safe to say that he’d already gotten drunk. “You gotta stop worrying! Who cares if it was hosted by Gideon? He’s throwing this awesome party for us… so… like… enjoy it. And if he comes out and tries to kill you or… something… then you’re allowed to tell me ‘I told you so’.”

Scott furrowed his brows, the corners of his lips angling in a similar fashion. After some silent contemplating, he decided that he should probably listen to Wallace. “I guess… maybe you’re right.” He sighed in defeat.

“I’m always right.” Wallace gave Scott a gentle shoulder pat. “Now, do you wanna raid the upstairs with me while Gideon isn’t here?”

“I’ll only go to make sure you don’t throw up on his shit.” Scott mumbled, hand already being grabbed as he was weaved through the first floor.

“I can control my stomach a lot better than you can, Pilgrim.” Wallace explains as the two of them reach the bottom of the staircase. As the first step was taken up the stairs, another step was taken down, from the top of them.

“Sorry, guys, upstairs is off limits for now!” The man himself, Gideon Graves, descended the staircase, fumbling his staff in his hand.

“Boooooo, we were totally gonna raid your stuff.” Wallace called, stepping aside to let the other raven–haired man through. Scott also took a step to the side, but kept his lips sealed as he did. Despite the quietness that came from the tawny–haired male, the daggers he glared were deafening. The music came to a stop—as if on command—and 18 other heads turned towards the stairs.

“Sorry it took me so long to get down here, I had to do a couple of last minute preparations.” Gideon explained, passing the two and entering the crowd.

“Preparations for what?” Scott asks, however his question was not met with an answer, which just let his suspicions grow. The other’s sudden appearance even got Crash and Joel to come back inside—albeit eyes red. Now, with everyone’s attention, Gideon ordered for everyone to gather in the family room, and that he had a special announcement to make before the party “really started to get going”. Just more red flags that began to show up in Scott’s field of vision. How was no one else seeing this? Or at least mentioning it, if they are? And people tell Scott that he’s the oblivious one. Or maybe he’s just reading too much into it, like Wallace said… he sighed, taking a seat on the wide couch right next to the aforementioned raven–haired male. Gideon stood before them all, right below the television that hung up on the wall. People crowded into the living room, trying not to knock over the expensive prized possessions Gideon had displayed on just about every flat surface.

“I just wanted to start off by thanking you all for showing up!” The other raven–haired male in glasses began. “There were a few others I sent invites to, but I guess they didn’t make it. A shame, really, but we’ll just have lots of fun without them!”

Scott gave Wallace a worried glance out of the corner of his eye. Wallace notices this and returns with a look of tiredness. Scott sees this as the other silently telling him to stop worrying, and glances back forward without a response.

“I never really… decided on an ending time for this party…” Gideon continued, fumbling with his cane. “When do you guys think it should end? In a few hours… midnight… tomorrow morning?”

The crowd was quiet, but they shared confused glances, as if some of them were genuinely contemplating an answer to the question.

“Or how about…” He quickly fished into one of his suit pockets, and pulled out a small remote. “Never?” His thumb landed on one of the buttons and pressed it down against the plastic remote, and sudden rumbling could be heard from outside. That’s when everyone else’s faces dropped. Everyone else’s… besides Wallace. He wasn’t buying any of this.

“What?” Piped up Lucas Lee, brows furrowing over brown eyes.

“I KNEW IT!” Shouted Scott, angrily leaping off of the sofa, which turned everyone’s shocked and confused gazes towards him.

Gideon’s eyebrow arched upwards. “You knew what?”

“You’re—” The ginger stuttered, immediately losing his confidence, “you gathered us—me—here… for… something!”

“Yeah, he gathered us here for a party.” Wallace spoke, condescendingly.

“Oh, no, he’s right!” Gideon hummed. “About my true intentions, that is. You really thought that I just gathered you all here for a party? Maybe Scott is the smarter one afterall.”

That’s when Wallace’s face finally dropped. “Okay, I’m with Lucas on this one. What?”

“Y’know how parties have games?” The other explained. “Well, I’ve always wanted to host a murder mystery!” Gideon snapped a finger, and a handful of butlers flooded into the living room and handed each house guest a small tablet with the three-G logo they all knew too well engraved on the back of them. “These G-Pads—G-Handbooks—whatever you want to call them, will be a major helping hand!”

“That’s a stupid name for them.” Kim called out, green-hazel eyes narrowed into an unamused glare.

“Oh?” The party’s host turns his attention towards the girl in the suit with the red bob. “Would you like to be our first example of why we follow the rules on those tablets? And keep your mouth shut when your host is trying to speak?”

Kim snorted out a chuckle. “You wouldn’t actually hurt us just for some party game.”

Gideon glared back, pressing another button on the remote in his hand without even giving it a glance. That was when a small portion of the back wall opened, and a mechanical claw flew out of it. The claw latched onto Kim’s arm, tightened its grip, and yanked her off of the couch and placed her next to Gideon. With the wind practically knocked out of her, the redhead tried to pull out of the claw’s grasp, but failed. Another claw emerged from the wall, this one holding a long blade. The claw pressed the blade up against Kim’s arm.

“I wouldn’t?” Gideon threatened. “Keep talking then, and see where that gets you.”

The redhead parted her lips to say one more snappy remark, but decided that it wasn’t the smartest option, and opted to stay silent, and pieced her lips back together. The claw let go of her arm, and she stomped back over to take her spot on the couch, gently rubbing at the spot on her arm that started to form a bruise.

“And before you guys look for an escape route, the button I pressed just a couple of minutes ago unleashed a giant dome around the entire property! You can take a look for yourselves!” It was almost like it was instinct, everyone got up all at once and rushed outside. Calmly, the game’s host followed them all.

He was right about the dome. It surrounded the entire property of the mansion, which luckily still included the yard around the building itself, so they had places to roam, but it was still quite cramped. The front courtyard was still accessible, and the roundabout with the fountain in the center, but beyond that was past the walls of the dome. Scott secretly hoped that the pool was still inside the dome… from the looks of it, it was a really nice one that he wanted to take a swim in sooner or later…

No, what on earth was he talking about? He just learned that he was trapped here inside of this dome with all of his friends—and Gideon Graves. The pool didn’t matter, unless it was going to help them all escape. He needed to find a way out of here, and fast.

“The only true way you guys are able to escape is if you kill one of the other House Guests and get away with it! I suggest you all start getting settled in and look around, because you’ll be here… forever, basically!” Gideon piped up, as if he was reading Scott’s mind. He probably was, too, Scott thought angrily.

“Your dinner’s at 6:30 PM, meet in the dining hall when the time comes! And read through the manual in the handbook. It’ll tell you everything you need to know about this place! Your first killing motive will be presented tomorrow morning! I’ll wake you all up bright and early for that! But you have most of the rest of the evening to explore, by most means. Certain areas will be locked for obvious reasons, though.” And with that, he had walked off. There was a thick cloud of silence that hung over everyone’s heads for about 40 seconds. A mixture of feelings arose amongst the crowd. Disbelief, shock, and fear were the most prominent.

“This—… This isn’t real. Right? Gideon’s just… playing a prank. An early April Fool’s prank. Yeah. Totally.” Stephen Stills anxiously broke the cloud of silence, face already covered in sweat, crossing his arms uncomfortably over his chest.

“Two months early? Would he really be that dedicated?” Wallace commented back, tone still lighthearted despite the situation they’re in.

“Wallace, this isn’t the time for your one liners.” Ramona Flowers said, gaze landing on the slender dark haired man. “Our lives are at stake here.”

“Please. You really believe that this is real? Yeah, Gideon’s a douchebag but he wouldn’t go this far.” Wallace argues back.

“I think we should at least listen to what he said… about investigating.” Scott interrupted the two before a proper argument could break out. “Why don’t we break each other up into groups and take different areas… and then… regroup for dinner and tell each other what we found?”

The group fell silent for another moment.

“Let’s… read the handbook first though, yeah? It might have some important information we’d need for investigating.” Stephen suggests afterwards. “Maybe there’s a map or something? Then we can settle on where everyone should look.”

They all agreed, some silently, others muttering “okay’s” and “right’s”. They all opened up the handbooks, finding the button on the sides of them and holding it down until the handbooks lit up. The same logo that was engraved on the back of them was shown on the screen once they were turned on.

“Oh, yeah, there’s a map, Stephen was right.” Neil mumbled, clicking on the tab and opening it, as everyone did the same once they had also found it.

“The fourth floor is… locked? Why?” Scott questioned.

“It’s probably where all of Gideon’s personal stuff is, like… his bedroom and stuff.” Todd replied, quietly, mostly glancing over towards Wallace in search of a praising reply for the minimum effort he put into answering Scott’s question. With no response, he glanced back down at the tablet, brows furrowed in annoyance.

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense.” Instead, Scott just responded back, then began to separate everyone into scouting groups. “Okay so… me, Wallace, Stephen, Neil, and…—” Scott paused, eyes casting towards whoever was left. After a few beats of quiet, someone volunteered.

“I’ll—uh… I’ll go.”

It was Matthew Patel, awkwardly picking at his fingernails with a flickering gaze. He wasn’t really sure where this sudden confidence came from either, but this was good right? He wanted to help.

“And Matthew. Sure. We’ll all investigate the… first floor.” The tawny–haired male gave a slow nod. “Kim, Ramona, Envy, Julie, Knives, and Stacey. You’re on the second floor. Todd, Lucas, Ken and Kyle, and Roxie, third floor. And that leaves Crash, Joel, Other Scott, and Jimmy to investigate the… surprisingly big basement, and the outside of the mansion. Front and back.”

“And who made you leader, Pilgrim?” Envy spat, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Do you see anyone else trying to lead?” Stephen spoke back, irritation slipping into his voice, and hands shoving into his pant pockets.

“Yeah, Envy, I agree with them, for once. Let’s just go investigate. Maybe we’ll find a way out, without the guys, too.” Julie tried to coax the tall redhead, the last part coming out in a mutter.

Stephen was about to snap back another scolding statement, but he found his words entangled and knotted up in his throat, unable to come out. He clamped his jaw shut, settling for giving the brunette a disappointed, annoyed stare, letting his words untangle. Now that he was able to properly speak, he parted his lips once more. “We’re all stuck here together, Julie. So we’ll find a way out together.”

“We’ll see about that.” She said, avoiding eye contact, and silently gesturing for the other people she was assigned with to follow her.

The first floor group had only just noticed that not only the second floor group, but the other groups had already departed while they were talking. “Oh, okay. Everyone’s gone.” Scott informed the others, as if they weren’t there, also seeing that everyone else was gone.

“First floor, you said?” Matthew asked in confirmation. “The floors are pretty big, should we split up? Three of us take one side, two of us take the other?”

At that, Neil shuffled closer to Stephen, and grabbed his hand. Stephen flashed him a smile, and squeezed his hand in return. However, knowing that Wallace and Scott probably wouldn’t want Matthew to tag along with them, the scruffy brunette took this chance to try and befriend the former Evil Ex, at least. “You can come with Neil and me, Matt.” He offered, beckoning him over.

“It looks like the Dining room, Kitchen, Laundry room, and a bathroom are off to the left, and the Living room, two more bathrooms, two of our bedrooms, and a Study room off to the right…” Neil says, still staring down at the map in his handbook.

“Scott and I will take the right, you guys take the left.” Wallace says, giving his roommate a soft pat on the shoulder. “Come on, Scotty, I’ll prove to you that this is all fake.” The jet–haired male said, his calm and cool composure still shining through, standing out against everyone else’s panicked states. He then walked off, back into the house.

Scott gave Wallace a cold glare as he walked off. How was he still so relaxed about this? This could be entirely serious, and he wasn’t taking it that way at—...

He paused. As his glare lingered, his eyes made a mishap and slipped down Wallace’s body as he walked away. Watching him walk in that dress just furthered his glare as his eyes flickered back up. This wasn’t the time to think about that. Their lives were at stake here, and they had to find a way out of here. Scott let out a breathy scoff as he followed the other back into the mansion.

[coupsjin]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ svt maknae line: your first date

╰┈➤ summary: your first date! (obviously) so cute

╰┈➤ warnings: svt x afab, kissing, physical touch

╰┈➤ a picture is provided for every member, just for you to visualize the setting!

100-300 words per member!

a/n: i honestly had no motivation to write today.. im sorry if these seem rushed :') + for vernon and dinos, i wrote slightly differently

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

dk / seokmin

with dk, even something simple as a walk can be romantic and fun. you both agree to take an afternoon walk in a park near your place. when he arrives outside of your apartment, he gives you a quick call to come down. when you do, you see a tall figure smiling at you and holding out a small camera.

"here! i brought one of my extras so we can take pictures of each other." he was glowing, clearly just excited to see you. he leads you by the hand down the stairs, walking towards the park.

while walking, seokmin is always trying to find the best angle and pose for him to take the perfect picture of you.

"no no, a little more to the right," he says while squinting in his camera, trying not to blush from your beauty. you can't help but smile, this being the first time a boy has done something like this for you.

time flies by, and it's already sunset.

"come on, let's take a selfie next to the sunset!" you can tell he's super excited.

"but.. every time i take a selfie i look awkward." you argued

"thats insane." he protests, "you're the most prettiest girl i've ever seen. you won't look awkward."

you blushed, ultimately agreeing. he fiddles with his camera, changing the setting. when he's ready, he gently puts his arm around your shoulder and snaps the photo.

"ok lets go ba-" you're confused with seokmin's sudden behaviour.

seokmin suddenly has a serious face on, staring into your eyes. he looks down to your lips, and slowly kisses you, snapping another photo.

"now we're done."

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

mingyu

mingyu wanted to keep it classy with a movie date... except he bought all the tickets in your row so you two would be alone.

"what?? mingyu you didn't have to do this.." you were impressed to say the least. who would spend this much money on a date?

apparently that someone was mingyu, letting you pick out anything and all you wanted at the snack bar. you felt bad, and just got a popcorn and some water.

you two decided to watch the new spiderman movie, as you were both interested in marvel. during the movie, his hands were almost always touching you. (unless he was wolfing down the popcorn). on your leg, holding your arm and hand - he was definitely the most clingy person you'd ever known.

when you reached for the popcorn, you were flabbergasted to see that there was none left. you slowly turned to mingyu who was also slowly turning to you, his eyes wide open and his lips pursed.

"very funny, mingyu," you whisper, "you buy all this food for me then eat it all yourself?" you said jokingly, thinking his guilty face was cute. you ruffled his hair, giving him the sign that it was ok. he smiled like a child, then turned his attention back to the movie.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

the8 / minghao

"the best date during the middle of winter is going ice skating" he suggested.

when you got to the skating rink, he rented skates for the both of you. before putting on his, he bends down in front of you and angles your skate so you can easily slide in. looks up and smiles, then ties the laces.

"a gentleman, i see!" you exclaim, while you stand up and try to walk with your skates on. he puts on his, and you head out to the rink.

"let me warn you," you said, "i've never been skating before. i'm horrible." he smirks saying,

"that's why i brought you here." he gently guides your hands onto the rink, tightly holding onto both. you stumble, making him laugh - his high pitched giggle filling your ears with joy. he starts skating backwards with his eyes on you as you try to keep up.

you suddenly lose balance and fall, bringing hao down with you.

"wow. did you have to bring me down too?" jokingly he punches your arm. he gets up and pulls you to him, pulling you in by the waist. he slowly skates backward, keeping you stuck on him.

"now this is the speed i wanted." you said breathily, keeping your eyes interlocked.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

seungkwan

you loved seeing seungkwans hair flow in the warm summer breeze, right when you first met him. so when he finally asked you out on a date, you immediately suggested to go biking with him.

when you arrived at the trail, kwan was already prepping his bike for the date. he had a small basket at the front, filled with snacks and drinks for later on. his hair was a shiny blonde, his fingers running through them when he saw you.

you picked a destination and started biking. it was a surprisingly refreshing afternoon, with the sun beginning to set over the horizon. seungkwan glowed, looking and smiling at you when he caught you staring. without you knowing, he snapped a picture of you and posted it on your private story (with only his members and friends) when he got home later that day. all the members were curious:

"ooooh seungkwan got a girlfriend!!" mingyu texted in the group chat.

after a somewhat tiring bike ride, you sat down on a bench to enjoy the snacks he brought.

"you know," he said to break the silence of staring at the water, "it's my first time biking with someone else."

"well i'm glad it was me."

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

vernon / hansol

if you and vernon had a date, it would definitely be at his house watching a movie. though he's not too good at cooking, he makes popcorn and tries to bake cookies for you.

snuggled up in his blanket with the lights off, he would put on a movie, rubbing your arm or leg while watching. he would definitely not be ready to kiss you yet, so he expresses his feelings through touching you and reminding you of his presence.

at the end of the movie, he notices that you fell asleep leaning on his chest. he didn't want to wake you, so he inched his hands to the remote and turned the tv off, slowly falling asleep to your heartbeat.

since you were asleep, he snuck in a kiss on the top of your head.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

dino / chan

he would definitely want to have a game night at his house! boardgames and snacks, and finishing the night off with a puzzle.

you ordered fried chicken to his house, surprising him. his mouth was agape, so thankful that he didn't have to cook for you (he's a horrible chef). you two happily ate the chicken while talking about funny stories.

[keldjinfae]

Snippet Sunday

I have been tagged by @dear-massacre and @renmackree, and one of them happens to be my artist for the Sterek Reverse Bang, so... here's some of what I've written for it, thus far (no actual Sterek content yet):

They heard the City of Bones long before it came into view, faint voices and music reaching them as they approached from the forest. Derek picked up on it first by only the span of a few breaths, and he glanced over the rest of the werewolves in his pack without breaking his stride. While they were no strangers to the annual bazaar held every winter at the end of the harvest season, none of them were ever able to brace themselves for the unsettling feeling of magic steeped into the moonstone walls of Lunafell.

Tension pulled Erica’s mouth into a sneer, made more prominent by her red-stained lips against the paleness of her face, and her brown eyes narrowed, searching through the thick branches and brambles ahead for the earliest glimpse of the city, as well as the marketplace sprawling out in front of it. Her hand almost unwittingly sought out Boyd’s, reaching out to close the short distance between them so their fingers automatically intertwined to ground each other. Boyd’s free hand settled over the hilt of his sword like he was toying with a worry stone, his dark thumb stroking over polished ivory, but the rest of him exuded a practiced show of calm.

To their right, Isaac’s blue eyes darted between the rest of the pack before looking forward again. The slight frown drawing down his eyebrows made him appear more severe in the muted light peeking through the forest canopy. “I always forget how loud it is out here,” he said, breaking through the quiet that had settled between them. His arms folded in front of him, one hand settling over his elbow in a practiced display of nerves, while also putting himself in a better position to wield the massive hammer strapped to his back.

“It’s only going to get louder once the gates are open,” Jackson pointed out with a dismissive sniff from slightly behind his alpha’s other side, his own unease making him even more acerbic than he usually was. “I still say Peter should’ve been here for this instead, if he’s going to flinch every time someone laughs too loud,” he addressed Derek, angling a venomous glance towards Isaac before tilting his head upward in a show of superiority, even as the corners of his mouth and eyes grew taut.

Out of all of Derek’s pack, Jackson was the one who’d spent the most time within the City of Bones, having lived there before becoming a werewolf—he was also the one who would draw the most scrutiny, after the alpha himself. “Why are we leaving so much of the—” Isaac’s voice dropped to a lower pitch, casting a quick glance around them “—negotiations to him, again?” he asked with a jerk of his head in Jackson’s direction.

“He knows his way around the city more than any one of us,” Derek repeated the decision he’d made before leaving for the festival. “He’ll also have a better idea of how to handle the city guard.”

“Not much of a feat, considering he used to be one of them,” Boyd remarked wryly, but he still released his loose hold on his sword to plant it on Isaac’s shoulder. They may have been of a similar height, but where Isaac was long and lean, Boyd was solid, corded muscle, jostling his packmate so Isaac had to drop his fighting stance in order to remain upright. “And because he used to be one of them, he knows that the Argents will never take him back—not without killing him.” The wide smile he leveled at Jackson was all teeth, starkly white against his dark skin.

As I'm currently drastically out of touch with who is working on what (outside of the RB as crunch time looms ever closer), if you would like to share a snippet of what you're writing, consider yourself tagged. Otherwise, absolutely zero pressure tags for @nerdherderette @ephemeronidwrites @oldefashioned @greyhavenisback @vmures

[chasingbluebirds]

Fracturing

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Character(s): Vil Schoenheit Word count: 638 AO3 Version Written for this week's @flashfictionfridayofficial theme, "Fracturing Forms"!

Vil flicked his thumb down along his Magicam profile, glossed lips pursing thinner and thinner as he scrolled. Attention on his posts was dropping, however gradually, and Mira was reporting fewer comments than ever on his photos lately.

He'd known, of course, the risk he was taking by rejecting so many roles. Celebrities lived and died by their presence in the public eye. His agent was good - better than good, in fact, she was far and away the best he'd ever had. But even she couldn't keep him relevant forever on only high-heeled photoshoots and perfume ads. His stunning movie roles were what had earned him his fame, and here he was, refusing one audition after another.

It wasn't really a matter of his schoolwork, though it did make for a convenient excuse to the media. Between his talent and his work ethic, truthfully, Vil was more than capable of managing acting work alongside his other responsibilities. Besides, the teachers were well familiar with his work, and they would have undoubtedly accommodated any demands of his career as needed. And the magic mirror guaranteed that even the most remote filming location could be just a simple commute back and forth to the academy.

What he couldn't stand, however, was the crushing idea of another nine months of filming opposite everyone's beloved Neige LeBlanche.

As his eyes scanned post after post of the past few months, he could feel his jaw clenching with frustration. But no, he couldn't afford the wrinkle lines from making such unpleasant faces. No matter his feelings on the matter, he would never be the most beautiful if he ruined his own looks with his displeasure.

He closed his eyes, reminding himself to breathe deeply and relax his muscles again. He needed to be able to look at himself calmly and objectively. He had always put in the work, and if that wasn't enough, then he'd just have to figure out what piece was missing. He'd make himself enough.

The fractured forms of dozens of pictures of himself gazed back at him, each cleanly composed with perfection. In one, he showed off a gleaming golden watch on a dark violet suit, his expression focused distantly on some point just out of frame, surrounded by sleek, modern skyscrapers in a glittering city. In another, his carefully refined smile showed off the apple-bright shade of his red lipstick. From yet another, he glowered arrogantly in the background of a movie poster, mouth curled in an elegant sneer towards Neige, who smiled sweetly at the camera, oblivious to his fictional nemesis's disdain.

Sweet. It was a type of role he'd never gotten to play. He wanted to, desperately. He could do wonderfully at it, if someone would just give him the damn chance to. But why would they, when they could always get the adorable, endearing Neige LeBlanche for it instead?

Clicking on his rival's tag on the movie poster, he was taken to a new flood of images, all cohesively linked by the same earnest, friendly smile on the younger boy's face. It was an effortless-looking, natural sort of prettiness, bright like a spot of sunshine reaching through the clouds. It was the sort of beauty that people wanted to trust implicitly, and so they did.

It was also the complete opposite of that glamorous, blinding brilliance of Vil's, which shone more like the bulbs on his vanity, highlighting perfection from every angle but too bright to stare at directly.

He had spent his entire life refining himself into the perfect picture of beauty. He had worked towards it for as long as he could remember. But how could he possibly compete with that natural, lovable charm?

The bitter aftertaste of dandelion greens lingered on his tongue as he took another sip of his beauty drink.

[ooppo]

My story on sleep paralysis.

One of the worst nightmares I’ve ever had was also the first time I experienced sleep paralysis. Admittedly, I was kind of excited. Freaked out, but excited. I had never thought I would experience having sleep paralysis. When I woke up, though, I didn’t realize what it was at first. I woke up because of a persistent sound. My brother and I were staying the night at an ex-boyfriends house, and they were whispering back and forth between each other. I knew it was late so I figured they were trying not to wake me. 

I went to move, but then I realized that I couldn’t. I realized it was sleep paralysis and tried not to freak out. It was cool, but still unsettling that I couldn’t move at all. I had read somewhere that you should go to sleep if you experience sleep paralysis. I tried to at first, but I was more curious than cautious. I wanted to see if I would have any weird sleep hallucinations, and maybe get a weird story to tell. At the angle I was lying I could scan about half the room. Just as I started to move my eyes, I realized something odd. The whispering wasn’t coming from behind me where my ex was and towards the door where my brother was. The whispering was everywhere in the room. It was quiet and hardly noticeable at first, which is why I didn’t realize it wasn’t real before I actually listened to it. 

Slowly, I began to look around. The closer I got to looking towards the end of the bed, the louder the whispering became. Multiple erratic, whispering voices overlapped, reaching its peak. However, when I locked eyes with what was standing at the edge of my bed, the whispering dropped deafeningly. 

I quickly moved my eyes away and shut them. I regretted my decision to look around and tried to go to sleep. I didn’t actually think that I’d come face-to-face with an actual sleep paralysis demon. Even though I knew it wasn’t real, I could still feel its unblinking eyes watching me. Eventually, though, I did go to sleep. When I woke up I was excited to relay the story to my ex and my brother. I had gotten the weird story I wanted. Halfway through my story, though, I saw something move from the edge of my vision. At the open bedroom door, a long, gray hand wrapped itself around the frame. I felt the world sink out from under me. The mans smile and pin prick eyes slowly came from around the corner to stare at me straight in the eyes. It watched for a moment, 

There stood a tall, gray old man who smiled ecstatically and pulled around blackened teeth. His eyes were pure white and the size of buttons in his head, with two even smaller pinprick pupils that seared into me.

and then it lunged.

We weren’t far from the bed, so when it dragged me back onto it I woke up instantly. I was really awake this time, and I found that I still could not move. Fearfully, I looked towards the edge of the bed. The thing was still there, but it was closer.  

Its knees were pressed flat against the mattress, and this time it was looking down at me directly rather than at an angle. I quickly shut my eyes and went to sleep again. When I woke up, I was scared but relieved. It was just a nightmare and it was over. But, I was wrong. When it came for me next I was in the hallway on my way to brush my teeth. It dragged me back whilst I was kicking and screaming. I woke up again, and it was closer. Its knees were now on the bed. A cycle began, and it continued like that over, and over again. Each time I “woke up” it felt like I was awake for longer each time. I remember once when I “woke up” I immediately began to sob because of how distraught and scared I was. I fell into my brother's arms before being dragged back again. At one point I had dreamt that I had been awake for days. No matter how long it was, though, it would always find me wherever I was in the dream. And every time it would be closer. 

The very last time it had happened, I was too afraid to open my eyes. I could hear it breathing into my ear, its breath ghosting my skin. I felt its weight dipping the mattress around me. The thing was kneeling over on all fours on top of me. 

When I had truly woken up, and could move again, it was still night. I was so disoriented and scared that I honestly didn’t know if I was awake or not. The only thing that told me that I was actually awake was that it was still night, not morning like how the fake awakenings started. I didn’t want to go back to sleep again. It was honestly so disorienting that I thought that I had woken up in another dimension for some reason. Eventually, though, I did go back to sleep and I woke up for real that time. I lived my life like normal after shaking the nightmare off for the first few paranoia-filled days. Eventually I had forgotten all about it as the months passed. 

This was a time before I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and unfortunately I get the type where I have psychosis. This is when my nightmare became real to me. 

It was late at night, and I was washing the dishes by myself. I wasn’t even really thinking about much, I was fairly calm. When I saw movement from the corner of my eye, I thought maybe it was my brother coming down the hall. It wasn’t, though. It was a hand. A long, gray, familiar hand. The old man's face peered around the corner at me, its smile happy and its eyes as wide as they could be. I sat there frozen in the kitchen, my stomach full of lead. 

It was going to lunge at me, and take me back to bed months in the past. Has everything been fake up to this point? Who was I going to be when I eventually did wake up? Or, would I ever wake up again? To say I was afraid was a drastic understatement. I was quite literally losing my mind. 

The demon didn’t lunge for me, though. It slowly ungripped the corner and ducted back into the laundry room where it first peaked out of. I couldn’t move for a long time. It took a while for me to gather the courage to move again. I reached the laundry room, and it was dark inside. I wondered why this time it was different. Was it waiting for me? Was I going to die? Was I dead already? 

I reached my hand into the darkness and felt for the lightswitch with unsure hands. When I found the switch and flicked it on, the laundry room was empty.

I have yet to see it again never saw the demon again. 

[kaywinchester]

Enough

@spnfamilyj2m: Hi love, I hope you're doing alright! If this blog is still active, could you do a story where Sam and Dean find out about Y/N's self harm and eating disorder, and she's their little sister? Thank you!

Warnings: self harm, talk of ED/body dysmorphia, very angst and dark. A/N: if you are struggling, please reach out to someone <3. Also, sorry it's so long I went into detail, but I hope I wrote it okay for all.

Pairings: Winchester Brothers x sister!reader, plus Jody

Word Count: 4,317

You had grown up in a male dominant environment. You, Y/n Winchester was usually the only girl around your family and friends, the attention often fell on you because of that. But despite eyes always falling on you, body image wasn't something you really knew anything about, so it never crossed your mind. Well, it never used to.

None of the guys around you, mainly your brothers, never made any comments on how they viewed themselves, on the outside. There was never much emphasis put on physical appearance for you. The only thing on the outside that was a thing in your mind was clothes. You got hand me downs from Sam and Dean, secondhand clothes from thrift stores. Occasionally as you got older, you got to go shopping for new clothes - which became necessary because neither of your older brothers owned any bras.

Then you started high school... and it all changed.

Freshman year... It was like your eyes were opened for the very first time to the struggles of being a girl and your body image. It started when you were sitting in one of the bathroom stalls one day, a group of girls flooded in. They were considered one of the more popular groups in your grade. The group scattered around the sinks, you peeked through the slit in the stall door to see what they were doing. The girls were looking in the mirrors, faces pressed super close with their fingers picking, pulling, moving the skin on their face around.

"Ugh, how do you get rid of a double chin? I swear I'm starting to get one." One girl complained.

"I wish my fat would go to my face, mine's all going straight to my hips."

The girls kept going on and on, commenting on their appearances negatively, while complementing each other positively. You had never heard anyone talk like this before in middle school, before it was all about what outfit you were wearing, which you quickly learned didn't matter to you.

That evening when you got back to the bunker after school, you went into the bathroom to take a shower. After undressing, you caught your gaze in the mirror and stopped. The way you looked in the mirror at yourself that night was different from how you had ever looked at yourself before. You recalled the conversations between all those girls in the bathroom at school, it all began to manifest itself in your own mind.

The shower must have been running for almost a half hour, because Sam knocked on the door. You were normally quick to shower, but you hadn't even gotten in yet. You had gotten distracted looking at every inch of your body, grabbing different areas of skin and turning around to see every angle.

"Y/n? .... you alright in there?" Sam asked lightly.

You panicked. There was no way he would've believed if you were fixing your hair, or taking off your makeup. You weren't even wearing makeup yet, or doing anything crazy to your hair. You couldn't think of anything else, so...

"Uh, yeah! I just.... think I've been a little constipated." You called out, taking a step towards the toilet, giving it a flush. You slapped your head in embarrassment to what you just said.

"Oh. Okay..." Sam awkwardly said before walking away.

"Why's she taking so long?" Dean asked, as he saw Sam enter the library.

"Uhm. I guess she's trying to poop."

Dean made a face that Sam couldn't read, looking confused. "I don't wanna know...."

~

The rest of high school flew by in the blink of an eye. You could say you had a pretty distorted self image. You had good days where you felt confident, but bad days too where you felt self conscious. No one had ever gone out of their way to tell you how you looked. You never had anyone saying you were too thick or thin, it just all came from what you picked up on in your surroundings. The skin on your bones started to feel like it was too much. Seeing photos posted online from your peers in swimsuits and revealing outfits. You knew your brothers would NEVER let you out of the bunker wearing anything like them, but for you, all you wanted was to look thin and fit in your normal clothes. You didn't want your thighs to touch, or your stomach to fold over when you sat down. You really started to take it seriously after graduating high school.

You tried to start thinking about it with a healthy mentality of wanting to maintain a good diet and exercise. You thought, starting to create a good habit of doing so now, would make it easier in the future. But the intrusive thoughts kept creeping in your mind, telling you how you should look, and what you had to do to get there. So, you really started to commit.

You were too far into it at this point. Constantly body checking in the mirror and weighing yourself, multiple times per day. You'd go for runs twice a day, once in the early morning before your brothers woke up, then again in the afternoon. Finishing off workouts with sit-ups and pushups in your bedroom. You'd be lying if you said it was easy to hide from your brothers, they eventually started to pick up on it.

Part of you wanted to reach out for help, you wanted someone to help pull you out of this hellish habit you had dug yourself into. The other part of you couldn't. You couldn't bear to think of what Sam and Dean would think of you if they found out, or what they would do. You did a pretty good job of acting like yourself, normal attitude and all, even though you felt nothing like it. You only wore baggy clothes so they didn't notice how thin you had gotten. The only noticeable change was in your face, the bags under your eyes and how they looked sunken into your face. You chalked it up to a possible iron deficiency which was somehow believable enough for them.

You had a whole thing going, and you didn't... well, couldn't stop yourself. You had accepted that this was your life now, as terrible as it was. All until, a simple trip to Jody's fudged up your whole plan.

You three got out of the impala in Jody's driveway. You were kind of excited to be there, it had been a while since you three had seen anyone else besides each other. Jody happened to be on the way home after a hunt, Sam suggested stopping by after calling ahead to make sure she was home.

"Hey! you guys... and my girl!" Jody greeted happily at the door. You gave her a hug and walked inside. She looked taken back after hugging you, noticing how bony you felt. "What? What's wrong?" Dean asked, noticing her change in face.

"Um, nothing. It's just been a while, y'all have changed." She smiled back, brushing it off for now.

All of you sat down and started to catch up, after almost 2 hours, Jody suggested dinner.

"Is it alright if I order pizza? I didn't get the chance to prepare anything before you guys showed up." Jody chuckled.

"No worries, Jody. Uh, yeah I'm down though." Dean smirked, looking at you and Sam. He said yes as well, and you nodded.

SHIT. Dinner. You didn't even think about that. Jody usually offers dinner when you three visit, knowing how you guys don't get chances to sit down together much.

The pizza arrived and you were panicking. It felt nauseating just thinking about eating. You all sat down and prepared your plates. You picked at your plate, taking the slightest nibble, not able to force yourself to eat any more. Jody noticed immediately, never seeing you behave this way.

"Y/n, you okay?" She asked lightly.

Your heart was pounding. "Um, yeah... why?"

"You've barely touched your pizza..." Jody pointed out, grabbing Sam and Dean's attention.

"Oh, I... I'm just not feeling too well." next thing you see is a hand reaching out and palming your forehead. "Well, you don't have a fever." Dean said while chewing his food.

"No, it's nothing like that. My stomach just feels a little queasy." You sat back, placing a hand on your stomach. You weren't lying, you did feel a little nauseated.

"Well, here, drink some water." Sam pushed your glass of water closer to you. "Just... try and eat a little bit." Dean chimed in.

All of their questions and nagging felt like they were getting to you, they were probably starting to get suspicious. You just couldn't bring yourself to eat another bite, your stomach started swimming and you couldn't hold it back anymore. You jumped up from the table, rushing to the bathroom.

"Y/n?!" Jody called out, rushing after you with Sam and Dean following behind. Jody approached the threshold of the bathroom door, seeing you hunched over the toilet. "Oh, honey..." Jody came over, placing a gentle hand on your back and helping you hold your hair. She turned around to Sam and Dean who were towering in the doorway, making the bathroom feel smaller than it was. She waved her other hand at them, motioning nicely for them to get out.

You were breathing heavily, having nothing else in your stomach to get out. You started dry heaving, Jody sat next to you, attempting to calm you down. As you found even breaths again, you sat down next to the bathtub, letting it hold you up with your hands in your lap. You felt so weak and defeated, and knew Jody was going to start asking questions.

"Y/n.... are you sure you're just sick?" She asked, studying your body language and pretty much everything else. You nodded weakly, avoiding eye contact. She gently lifted your hands into hers, rubbing her thumbs against your palms and your wrists in a calming way. You didn't notice, but she proceeded to feel how small your arms felt in her hands.

Jody's breath hitched, she looked up at you with such sadness and disbelief in her eyes. "Y/n! What is going on?" She asked in a hushed but urgent voice.

You tried holding back the tears, but her words broke you. You knew she was disappointed. Jody looked at you with sad eyes and pulled you into a hug. You accepted and wrapped your arms around her, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort you didn't know you needed.

"I'm sorry..." You finally cried out.

Jody pulled back slightly. "Hey, you don't need to apologize. I just don't want to see you hurt yourself. If you're hurting, you need to ask for help." You nodded again, not knowing what to say. Not wanting to say anything.

"I know you don't want to talk about it, but I think you should." She suggested, but knowing she was more politely demanding. "Are you eating?"

There was a long silence. You were barely eating, you knew what you were doing. You just didn't want to admit to it out loud. You gave in and shook your head 'no'

Jody let out a heavy long sigh. "Does Sam or Dean know?"

You shook your head 'no' again, and urgently looked up towards the door, remembering where you were and what was going on. You had really hoped they weren't around the corner listening. "Well, I really think you should tell them..." Jody said. She continued to talk to you about what you were doing and how it was going to hurt you in the long run if you didn't stop soon. She was very mindful of her word choice, careful not to upset or trigger you. You stared blankly at the wall, listening to her spiel, sort of waiting for it to be over so you could go home. You were so tired, and just wanted to sink into your bed and go to sleep so you wouldn't have to deal with everything.

"We all love you y/n. I'm not mad... I will say I am upset to see you like this, but that's because I care about you, and so do Dean and Sam."

"Can you promise me that you'll tell them?" Jody asked.

You nodded slowly in response. "Yeah." You said, barely a whisper. You lied. You didn't want to tell them. You knew you should, but you weren't ready. "Okay, why don't you go wait in the car, I'm gonna say goodbye to the boys." Jody stood up, helping you up and out of the bathroom.

You walked past the kitchen where your brothers were sitting to reach the front door. You could feel their eyes on you, but you didn't engage. You climbed into the backseat of the impala and sprawled across the bench, laying your head down and crying softly to yourself before falling asleep.

Jody came back into the kitchen with both the Winchester boys' eyes on her. Sam looked extremely concerned, Dean just looked deflated of emotion.

"Well...? Is she okay?" Sam asked.

Jody paused. "Well... honestly... no. And, I really shouldn't be telling you this, because she promised me she would tell you both. But... I don't think she's ready to say anything anytime soon, so..."

"So, what's the problem?" Sam asked once more.

"I think... she most definitely has some kind of eating disorder going on."

Sam and Dean were definitely shocked to say the least. They knew their baby sister had struggled with things before like depression and anxiety, but nothing like this. Jody of course made sure that they had an idea to what that meant, which they did to an extent. But Jody still took some time to explain to them the whole picture and how to go about dealing with it for you.

"Thanks, Jody." Sam said as they finished up their conversation and got ready to leave.

Dean was speechless. He couldn't fathom that you felt this way, were doing this to yourself. All under his care and he didn't even know. That's what hurt the most.

"Thanks.... uh." Dean muttered. Jody pulled him into a hug after Sam's hug. "I know, it's a lot to handle."

"We'll be in touch." Dean gave the best smile he could muster up. "Yes, we will. Call me if you need anything." Jody emphasized. Both men gave her a wave as the got into the car.

First thing they did was look back at you, thinking they would have to say something, start discussing things on the way home. They weren't looking forward to it, knowing how upset and vulnerable you'd feel. But you were fast asleep. A little bit of relief washed over them both. They could give you the night to rest, start fresh, and give themselves the night to think. You all got home pretty late, you were still sleeping in the back seat.

"I'll get her to bed, if you wanna unpack the car." Sam offered.

"No, I got 'er." Dean said softly. He opened the back door and slowly scooted your body out of the car towards his reach. He lifted you up like it was nothing to him. Of course, he hadn't recalled the last time he had to carry you to bed, but you were definitely a lot lighter. Dean cringed at how little you weighed as he carried you to bed, setting your frame down on the mattress. He stood there for a moment, taking in your appearance, not wanting to believe that you were dealing with... what you were dealing with. He questioned himself, wondering if there was something he should have done better to prevent you from thinking that way about yourself.

Sam popped in the doorway. "Hey... "

Dean turned around, acknowledging his presence, then looking back once more before leaving the room. He closed your door quietly and stood there still outside of it.

"Sammy, I.... I don't know what to do." Dean paused, not sure if he wanted to continue.

"I know. It's uh..." Sam also at a loss for words.

"I just don't wanna say the wrong thing, or make it worse, but we can't let her keep going like that."

Sam nodded in agreement. "Yeah, well... remember. Jody said we just gotta take it one step at-."

"Yup. Got it." Dean cut him off. The two exchanged looks before going their separate ways for the night.

~

You woke up in your bed, like usual, but slowly started to recall the events of last night. You stared at the ceiling, not wanting to get out of bed, not wanting to do anything. You looked over at the time to see you had slept in a little bit. Normally, you would've been up already after your first morning run, and then eating "breakfast". But you could feel how much your body was craving that sleep. You returned your gaze back to the ceiling and teared up, and then became silent cries. You felt like such a let down and so embarrassed. Jody knew, and soon your brothers had to know if they didn't already know. You didn't want them to know you had sunk this low.

You got up and decided to just go face them now. Knowing that if you hid in your room all day, they'd get suspicious and come check on you anyways. But, hey, maybe there was a chance that Jody didn't tell them. You immediately smelled breakfast in the halls of the bunker. It wasn't your usual "breakfast" it was actually breakfast. You knew Dean for sure made something for all three of you. You reluctantly entered the kitchen to see them sitting down at the table, with a plate waiting for you.

"Morning, sweetheart!" Dean said with as much enthusiasm as he could without sounding like too much. Sam had a sympathetic smile on his face. Oh shit, they definitely knew.

You sat down, not knowing why. You really wanted to run back into your room and go back to bed. There was a silence that fell over the room.

"Sleep well?" Dean asked.

You had no desire to talk, but maybe you didn't have to just yet if you played along. You had been doing it for this long so far. "Yeah, actually. Feeling much better." You added some cheer into your voice, reaching for the fork and knife next to your plate of scrambled eggs.

The brothers exchanged some confused looks. You knew they were onto you, so, you attempted to eat a little bit of eggs before excusing yourself. "Mhm, I need to pee... I'll uh, finish this later." You said getting up from your seat and leaving the room before they could say anything. So many thoughts crossed your mind walking back to your room.

Why didn't I just stay in my room, I could've avoided that, I feel terrible, I just want this all to stop.

You closed the door to your room, walking over to your bed and sinking down to the floor, leaning against the frame. You needed a distraction from everything in your mind, and proceeded to do the first thing that came to your mind. Reaching in your nightstand for a razor blade, you pinched it between your fingers and held it to the side of your wrist. You took a breath before dragging the blade against the skin, taking a longer deep breath and letting your mind focus on it.

~

Sam and Dean look at each other, so much going through each of their minds.

"Was this too much? Did we try too soon?" Dean fretted.

"I don't know, I can't tell yet." Sam whispered.

They spoke softly as you walked away, but they heard you close your bedroom door, not the bathroom door. Sam let out a heavy sigh. He thought more and more about your behavior over the past year and tried piecing it together.

Both of them agreed one of them should go talk to you. Both of them talking at once right now might make it feel like a lot for you. Dean stood up, taking the plates away, starting to clean up. Sam got up slowly after that and made his way towards your room.

"Y/n?" He called out softly after knocking.

You were so focused on what you were doing, it almost felt like you were in a trance for a moment. Then the noise of Sam knocking registered in your brain, but it was too late.

"Y/n? Can I-" He stopped as he opened your door slightly, seeing you sitting there on the ground with a blade up to your wrist.

You turned around in shock and jumped when you saw him. You broke down as you walked up to the door, almost falling over trying to shut it. Sam was quick to put his hands on the door, not letting you close it. "Sam, stop!!" You rose your voice.

"Y/n! It's okay." Was all Sam could say as he pushed past the door to you. He grasped your wrists, not wanting you to hurt yourself any more. He picked up the razor blade off the ground, quickly putting it in his pocket. "No! Let go, please!" You pleaded.

"Y/n/n, please. It's okay." Sam said in his most calm voice. He dragged you a bit towards the bathroom, your weak legs having no choice but to follow him. Sam turned on the sink, reaching to put your wrist under the running water. You tried to pull away, he gave you a sympathetic look but held your hand there as he reached with his other hand for a few tissues and a towel. You winced in pain as he put pressure with tissue on your cut.

Dean heard the frustrated voices and commotion so he dropped what he was doing and walked towards it, stopping when he noticed you and Sam through the doorway to the bathroom. He saw Sam holding bloody tissues to your wrist and knew.

"Y/n! Wha-....."

"It's alright, c'mon." Sam felt you tense up and guided you back to your room.

"Sam, no. It's not alright." Dean followed closely behind.

"Dean! Not now." Sam rushed. He went and sat you down on your bed, wanting you to feel comfortable.

"Uh, yeah we're gonna do this now... now that she's doing this too!" Dean's voice got louder. You could tell by his voice that he wasn't mad, he was just furiously worried, which was sometimes worse.

"Too?" You asked hesitantly.

"Yeah y/n, too! As in, I don't need you hurting yourself in multiple ways now." Dean yelled.

That was it, you couldn't hold back anymore and let your emotions go. They knew, they knew for sure. You had disappointed them, and got them worried about you.

"Dammit!" Dean shouted, not being able to help himself.

"Dean! If you can't contain yourself, you need to step out." Sam urged.

"You are such a beautiful girl, y/n." Dean ignored Sam. "You know you can always come to us, right? You're scarin' me right now."

"M' sorry, Dean." You cried, dropping your head down and letting your hair fall to the sides. Sam tucked your hair behind your ear, still kneeled in front of you holding your wrist in a towel.

Hearing you in such pain made Dean turn around, taking in the scene in front of him. "No... no, no, no y/n. You don't need to apologize. "I'm just sorry that something or someone around made you feel like you aren't good enough. Not beautiful enough. Cause, that is not the case at all... You are the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on." Dean came closer, kneeling down next to you.

His words made their way to your heart and you couldn't help but break down that wall you had built up for so long. You nodded. "I never meant for it to go this far." You cried, still looking down. "Please don't send me away, somewhere. I can't do that. I'll try, I can't go-." You sent your mind into a panic, starting to talk in a frenzy.

"Hey, hey, don't worry. We don't want to send you away....but... we do think you should at least go talk to someone." Sam reassured.

"I agree." Dean chimed in. "A-and we- me and Sam will be here for you, whatever you need!"

You looked up and looked at both of your brothers. You nodded, letting a few more tears go. "I tried to tell you before, but I couldn't..."

"I know bug, it's alright. But, we are in this world to make a mark with our qualities, our talents, what makes us unique. Not our looks. Lead with the inside, not the outside, because that's the part that matters. Sam expressed.

"I just don't want to see you worrying about the wrong things. You are worth so much more than how you look. We love you, y/n. We want to see you love yourself, and you deserve to."

You calmed down and sat for a while with Sam and Dean, listening to their words. You felt a lightness wash over you, feeling a little sense of yourself come back. "Thank you." you said. "I'm scared as hell, but I want things to be different."

Sam wiped your stray tears with this thumb, and placed a hand over your shoulder. "That's okay, that is a great start!"

"We got you, y/n. Always." Dean brought you into a hug with Sam. You let out a much needed breath, relaxing your tenseness, feeling safe and hopeful for the first time in a long time.

[keouil]

tender our mourning bones

it's raining the day they bury haibara six feet under. 1k. sashisu. angst. also on ao3.

It’s raining the day they bury Haibara six feet under.

The crunch of Shoko’s heels against the stone pavement is all the noise they hear as they walk towards the parking lot, umbrellas in tow. A storm was brewing on the horizon, the sky a murky grey and rain pelleting down on them like gunshots fired in the distance. The air is thick with the tension of unresolved arguments they’ve been having all week, none of them able to stand each other for longer than an hour before they fell into a screaming match Yaga was tired of meditating. 

Getou is the first to break the silence. He always was. “Whose riding with who?”

Shoko eyes the line of black sedans parked by the tori gates. Men in black uniforms and non-descript Ray Bans were waiting patiently by the door, umbrellas ready and arms poised to usher them in. The higher-ups spared no expense, it seemed. 

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Shoko fixes her hold on the umbrella. “I don’t care.”

Getou turns to Gojo in return, who had his head buried under the giant halo of his umbrella they couldn’t even see his glasses. “Let’s just all go together.”

Getou raises his eyebrow. “Sure that’s a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Gojo quips back, thinly veiled restraint thawing. 

Shoko regards them both evenly, tired of the hostility but feeling too tired to address it. “Really?” she situates herself between them, glaring slightly. “You guys really wanna do this now?”

Gojo and Getou continue staring each other down, neither of them wanting to back down. They argued all the time, yes; but this was different. This anger was a real, living, breathing thing and Shoko didn’t have enough surgical knives to cut through their tension clean. Let them be bloody, she thought. Let all of us wreak havoc on each other’s death beds.

But instead, for Haibara and Nanami, she tries again. “Seriously?”

Getou breaks eye contact first, blinking away the incense in his eyes and forcing his temper to settle. “Let’s just—” he takes a calming breath. “Let’s just get through this. Christ, it’s one day.”

“Right,” Gojo was already moving towards the nearest car. “We can do one day.”

Getou gestured for Shoko to go ahead, reaching out to hold her umbrella for her. “Take the middle.”

“Wait,” Shoko stopped suddenly in her tracks, looking back and forth between them apprehensively. “What about Nanami? Whose riding with him?”

Both of them paused the moment she did, Gojo had half his body angled towards the door while Getou stilled behind her, waiting patiently. The squelching sound of shoes on mud was a glaring, almost offensive ring against the torrents. Shoko fought a flinch.

“I think he’s with Yaga,” Gojo supplies, tendering his tone once he sensed the growing panic in hers. “Ijichi is with them, too. Don’t worry.”

At this Shoko visibly loosens. “Oh,” she sighs in relief. “Okay then.”

A clap of thunder in the distance. Getou nudged at her to get in while the rain kept coming down all over them, Gojo making space in the car as soon as they all stepped inside. The driver nods at them in recognition before turning on the ignition, the town car roaring to life in the next second.

“We can do this,” Gojo reminds them quietly, voice low in the hiss of the downpour.

It’s a few minutes of tense silence in the car and rain lashing down at the windows as they drive past the wide expanse of the forest, before Shoko replies, voice faint. “Can we really?”

They all exchange looks. Wordlessly, they let the veil of anger that spewed fire all over the school delicate itself to water, recognizing the only one way they were actually going to survive today: together.

Getou squeezes her hand. “We have no choice.”

-

Shoko’s leg shakes the entire ride, fingers itching for a cigarette. Gojo can’t stop triggering his infinity on, his body telling him he was in danger but his soul reminding itself he wasn’t, no actually, it was worse; much worse. Getou can’t look at both of them in the eye altogether, because who made the call to suggest Gojo take over and who delivered the body to Shoko’s gurney?

-

All it takes is one choked sob from Nanami for them to crack.

Immediately Shoko wants to buckle then and there. “Nanami,” she reaches out, her fingers shaking and soaked through the rain. She let the umbrella fall as soon as they heard his first whimper. “Nanami, I’m so—”

Another bawl.

Getou gently guides her back towards them and blankets her with his umbrella. “Not now,” he says gently, tucking her further into him. “He needs to—” he glances briefly at Nanami, but not for too long, because: “Let’s just give him a moment.”

Shoko could barely look on as he was. Nanami lay on his knees just before Haibara’s tombstone, the rain beating down on him and the soil muddying his then pristine suit. His hair and clothes were soaked to the bone and none of them could tell, by that point, which was louder: the lightning or his breaking.

“My God,” they hear Utahime gasp some rows behind them, shell-shocked and pained. “Do we—I mean. Are we just gonna let him go on like this?”

“I don’t think we have much of a choice,” Gojo replies quietly, rubbing a consoling hand on Shoko’s back. “He’s not going to get up even if we make him.”

Shoko’s eyes are still a little glazed when Getou turns to look at her. Trying to meet her eye, whispers gently, “You still know none of this is your fault, right?”

Shoko scoffs a little, a watery cruel thing. “Tell that to the higher-ups."

“Yaga’s working on it,” Getou reminds her. “You weren’t prepared to take this on. None of us were.”

“Whatever,” Shoko shrugs out of his hold, looking on somberly at the sakura petals filtering down into the graveyard. “Haibara’s still dead and I wasn’t able to heal him. Which of you can say the same?”

In the end it’s Getou who stands and waits however long in the rain, holding an umbrella out for Nanami. In the end it’s Gojo who wants so badly to put the strength down for once, but still helps Nanami back up when his knees have all but burrowed itself into the mud, and their kouhai all of seventeen planted his soul in the soil and watched it slowly unfurl against the raging downpour that thrashed almost as loudly and violently as their collective grief.

Almost.

-

The izakaya in Omoide Yokocho is cleaned out by the time they get there past midnight.

“Another one,” Shoko calls out to the owner, gesturing blindly at her empty sake cup. “Or you know what, make that two.”

Getou eyes the empty bottles of umeshu haphazardly strewn about their table. “Haven’t you had enough—”

“Don’t start with me,” warns Shoko, downing the cup in one go and grimacing after. “Not today, Getou. Play mother hen any other day but just. Fuck off today.”

Getou could do nothing but watch her drink the grief away, one sake shot at a time. “Okay,” he says, softer now, pushing his plate of edamame towards her. And then adds again, this time when he meets her eyes and she was looking at him quizically at the sudden gentleness: “I’m sorry.”

Shoko blinks, and suddenly he can see some of her again. “No, I’m—” she starts woefully. “Sorry, I—I know I’m being a bitch today. I can’t help it.”

“Better you be a bitch to us than Ijichi,” Gojo mumbles from her other side, looking down at his untouched yakitori. “Or else he’ll start crying again.”

They turn their heads towards him, unbelieving.

“Too soon?” Gojo looks up.

“Fuck you,” Shoko curses at him.

Gojo steals some of her tsukemono. “Let it out, Shoko. Just let it out.”

Rain is still gushing down all over Shinjuku, the small curtain separating them from the outside soaked through and lapping against their backs. Gojo and Getou can barely fit into the small stools and Shoko keeps chasing her grief down to the last sip of the beer bottle only to find it empty, and they are angry at themselves and angry at the world, and they can barely stand each other because how could they; Gojo should have taken the mission, Shoko should have saved Haibara, and Getou should have been stronger to prevent any of it from happening. 

They all blamed themselves, and in turn, blamed each other. 

But no one else will understand.

So instead:

“Whatthehell,” Shoko slurs, holding up the empty bottle of sake and peering into its depleted contents. Swearing again, she had her arm braced to throw it against the wall, before Getou grabbed it out of her hands in time. “Easy now.”

Shoko deflated back into her chair, staring into space for three seconds before her head fell to the table in a dramatic flop. Gojo only barely managed to sandwich a wad of paper napkins to blanket her fall.

“Jesus Christ,” Gojo breathes out. “She hasn’t been this drunk since our year-end party.”

“Can you blame her?” Getou shrugs his jacket into her shoulder. “The kid died on her operating table. Nanami couldn’t stop himself from taking it out on her when she had to break the news.”

Gojo flicks a speck of tempura away from Shoko's hair, not saying anything.

Getou eyes him. “Oi,” he calls out.

“What?” Gojo snaps at him, meeting his eyes. “I heard you.”

“I know you did, I just—” Getou searches for the words. This quiet and this late the rain was defeaning. “I just remembered I haven’t told you yet.”

“Told me what?”

Getou looks him squarely in the eye, the most lucid he's felt all day. “That it’s not your fault, either.”

Gojo just holds his stare, unbelieving and griefed out. “Tell that to these eyes.”