#and sometimes i do too. in a screwed up way. and i try to remind myself otherwise but god | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alisonsfics · 23 days

Text

back in chicago - part 4

pairing: carmy berzatto x reader

summary: after years in germany, you return to chicago and immediately run into your ex-boyfriend. if you thought it’d be easy jumping back into your old life, you were wrong. new people had entered carmy’s life, including a new woman, but you were still everything to him.

word count: 4.8k

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

A/N: welcome to the FINALE babbyyyy…also i may have gotten carried away and the finale is a little on the long side

warnings: unprotected sex, smut, car sex, jealous carmy which deserves its own warning, minors DNI (18+ only)

After Richie’s birthday party, you avoided Carmy for a few weeks. It was too messy. He had basically told you he loved both you and Claire and didn’t know what to do about it. You didn’t want to get on Claire’s bad side more than you already had.

It was easier to just ignore the problem.

During those weeks, you started to hang out with Sydney more and more. You both had hit it off upon meeting each other. She felt like one of your best friends, despite having only having known each other for a month.

Being friends with Sydney meant sometimes accidentally running into Carmy.

The first time was when you and Sydney decided to try a new lunch spot, which happened to be close to the Bear, so she could walk there after her shift. You accidentally got seated at one of the tables in front of the restaurant on that patio.

Carmy had walked by on his way to work, and of course, had to stop and say hi.

Then, you and Sydney made plans to go to a farmers market. You planned to meet her at the Bear, but didn’t want to run into Carmy.

You hung out in the alleyway beside the restaurant. You looked down at your phone and realized Sydney had texted that she was running a few minutes late.

You waited, mindlessly scrolling through social media. Finally, the back door swung open. You looked up expecting Sydney, but instead saw Carmy with a box of cigarettes in hand.

“Oh…uh, hey,” he said, shocked to see you. You gave him a polite smile, not exactly knowing what to say. What do you say to your ex-boyfriend who knows you’ve been avoiding him. “I’m just waiting for Sydney. We’re going to a market.” You quickly explained.

He nodded, slowly. He was slightly disappointed you weren’t there to see him. He knew he’d screwed things up, but he missed you.

“You know, you can wait inside if you want? You don’t have to wait out in the cold and pretend like we don’t know each other.” He offered. Before you could say anything, Sydney rushed out the door and saved you.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” she said, trying to break up the awkward tension between the two of you.

A few days after that, Carmy had texted you asking if you wanted to get lunch. You couldn’t say yes, but you also couldn’t say no without sounding like an asshole. So, you ignored the message.

One night at your apartment, you FaceTimed Sydney after ruining the dinner you were making. “Syd, this tastes like shit. I don’t know how to fix it.” You complained. Having a chef friend came in handy.

It reminded you of all the times you’d cooked with Carmy.

“It probably just needs more acid to balance it out.” She told you. You nodded and tried to tweak the sauce.

“Oh, by the way, there’s this big dinner next week. Have you heard of the restaurant Ever? They’re closing and having this big final dinner thing. You should come with me. It’ll be fun.” She suggested, bracing for your quick no.

You paused and looked over at Sydney on your screen. She instantly knew the expression on your face meant no way. “Is Carmy gonna be there?” You asked, slowly.

Sydney pursed her lips and looked away from the camera. You glared at her as she refused to tell you. “I will respectfully pass then. I really don’t want to go to a dinner with my ex-boyfriend.” You told her, honestly.

Sydney sighed. “Oh, come on. They’ll be a bunch of people there. You probably won’t even see him.” Sydney said, and you both knew she was lying.

You persistently shook your head. “I really don’t want to see him. There’s too much history, Syd.” You told her. She knew she had slim odds of convincing you, but she was going to try. To do so, she was going to try every possible angle.

“I have this chef friend. His name is Luca, and he’ll be there. I think you’d like him. He’s cute.” She said, smirking at you. You gave her a disappointed look. “I told you no more love drama. I’m not ready to start dating some new guy.” You said.

You tasted your sauce as Sydney rambled on about why you and Luca would hit it off. “You know another plus? It would make a certain someone jealous.” She said, winking at you.

You froze at the reference to Carmy. Over the past few weeks, Sydney had refused to talk about Carmy unless you brought him up, so it was new to hear her mention him. “I’m not gonna take advantage of some guy just to get back at Carmy.” You persisted.

“Luca’s a nice guy. He might even be down to pretend just to help you make Carmy jealous.” Sydney playfully threw the idea out there. You felt a laugh slip through your lips. “That would be hilarious.” You said, treating the suggestion as a joke.

“I can ask him.” Sydney said, dead serious. You looked at her, mentally weighing your options. You almost considered it for a second. “No, Syd. I was just kidding.” You said.

You both hung up, so that you could finish making dinner. You completely forgot about the conversation. Until the next day when you got a text from Sydney.

“Luca says he’ll do it.”

When it came to the night of the Ever dinner, you were extremely anxious.

Anxious to see Carmy. Anxious to possibly see Claire. Anxious for how Carmy would react.

You were currently standing in the lobby as you waited for Sydney to show up. You felt too awkward to go in and have to find Luca on your own. You nervously fidgeted with the necklace you were wearing.

You had picked a dress that made you feel really confident. If you were going to try to make Carmy jealous, you knew you needed to up your game.

You heard footsteps coming down the hallway and looked up to see Sydney. “Hey, there you are. You look so good.” She said, giving you a hug.

You thanked her and returned the compliment. “You seem nervous. You doing okay?” She asked you, noticing the way you were fidgeting. You shrugged. “Kinda stressed, but just trying to power through it,” you said.

“Everything is gonna go fine, I promise.” She assured you. She led you into the dining room. You saw a blonde man raise his hand and wave you both over. As you walked over to the table, you glanced around the room. You saw no sign of Carmy.

He pulled Sydney in for a hug and then turned to you. “Luca. It’s nice to meet you.” He said, sticking his hand out for you to shake. You smiled and introduced yourself.

He quickly pulled your chair out for you, letting you sit down. “So, what’s the whole story with Carmy? I’ve been dying to know. Sydney told me a little bit.” Luca said, sitting and turning to face you.

“We dated for a few years. I moved away for a job, and he broke things off. His new girlfriend is pissed at me, simply for existing. And I don’t think he knows how to be friends with me after all these years.” You summarized.

“That is wild. Did you move to Germany, by chance?” He asked. You and Sydney both perked up when he said Germany. “Yeah, I did. How did you know that?” You asked, curiously.

“I went to culinary school with Carmy, and he always talked about his girlfriend who lived in Germany.” He told you.

“Yeah that was me, but we broke up before I left. So, we were definitely broken up when he told you that.” You said, realizing how hard Carmy must have taken the breakup. Luca slowly nodded. “My best guess based on the way he talked about you is he definitely wasn’t over you.” He told you.

You felt a pit in your stomach as you thought about it. You always figured Carmy moved on quickly because he was the one who broke things off. But, you were starting to realize how much he regretted that.

“I’m going to run to the restroom really quick, but I’ll be right back.” Luca said, standing up and excusing himself.

“Carm’s not bringing Claire tonight, right?” You turned and asked Sydney. She shook your head. “No, I asked him and he said she’s working tonight.” She told you. You breathed a sigh of relief.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw Carmy walk into the room. “Oh, shit,” you mumbled to yourself. Sydney looked over her shoulder and also saw Carmy.

He walked over towards your table. When you both locked eyes, you could tell he was shocked to see you.

Sydney stood up to give Carmy a quick hug. You also stood up. Carmy’s eyes raked down your body as he saw your dress for the first time.

It took everything in him to fight the urge to tell you how amazing you looked. He gave you a quick side hug. “I didn’t know you’d be here.” He mentioned to you before sitting back down.

He sat on Sydney’s other side. His gaze lingered on you. He saw you in that dress, and he knew he was screwed.

Then, Luca returned to the table.

“Oh, hey man, it’s nice to see you.” Carmy said, recognizing Luca. They both exchanged some pleasantries. Carmy seemed excited to see an old friend. Luca walked behind Carmy and back to his seat next to you.

“I got you a drink.” Luca said, handing you a glass. You smiled up at him and thanked him. Carmy furrowed his eyebrows. He didn’t even think you both knew each other.

Luca’s hand softly grazed your back as he sat down beside you. “Do you umm…do you guys know each other?” Carmy asked. He was biting down on his lip.

“Carmy, Luca’s my date.” You said, watching as Carmy clenched his jaw. His grip tightened around his glass. You were almost concerned it would shatter. “Wait do you two know each other?” Luca played dumb, gesturing between you and Carmy.

“Yeah, we dated.” Carmy said, through clenched teeth. Luca slowly nodded his head like he was realizing the awkwardness of the situation.

Sydney covered her mouth as she tried not to laugh. Carmy was never someone who was able to mask his emotions. His jealousy was written all over his face.

“I’m surprised Claire isn’t here.” You said, with a tone colder than you meant to use. Carmy cocked his head to the side. “She uhh…had to work.” He said. He was thankful Claire wasn’t there. If she saw how jealous Carmy was acting, it’d lead to another fight. They’d been having a lot of fights about you.

Some other chef came up to introduce themselves to Carmy. Luca took the opportunity to reach over and grab your hand. Carmy saw the whole thing. Carmy moved his hands under the table, so no one could see how hard he was clenching his fists.

You and Carmy knew each other like the back of your hands, so neither of you missed any little subtle reactions.

Luca leaned over to you. “You were definitely right about this getting under his skin.” He whispered in your ear. You giggled, pretending like he’d just told you something funny.

Carmy rolled his eyes when he thought you weren’t looking. A second later, you saw a text pop up on your phone.

When you saw Carmy’s name, you grabbed your phone and held it in your lap. The text read:

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You had to stop yourself from laughing. Carmy was beyond easy to read. You quickly texted him back: “I didn’t think I had to. I didn’t even know you guys knew each other.”

Carmy was jealous enough that you had a date, but it was worse because Luca was one of his friends.

You saw Carmy huff as he read your message. Then, he furiously typed back a response.

“Oh, c’mon. You don’t think I know you well enough to know that’s bullshit? You should’ve told me.”

You turned off your phone and set it upside down on the table. One of the other chefs at the table started telling a story, which captured everyone’s attention except yours and Carmy’s.

Carmy kept looking over at the way your fingers were interlaced with Luca’s. He also saw how you both kept giddily smiling at each other.

You glanced over at Carmy after feeling him staring at you. He gestured towards the hallway. “Can we talk?” He mouthed to you. You shook your head and shifted your attention back to who was talking.

Towards the end of the party, Carmy was as frustrated as he could be. He’d watched you and Luca flirting all night. And you were ignoring him.

About half of the guests had left, and everyone was having small side conversations. Sydney had left because she had plans afterwards with her dad.

You and Luca were still chatting. Carmy was across the table as the guy next him continued rambling. Carmy wasn’t even paying attention to the conversation. His eyes were glued to you.

You grabbed ahold of Luca’s arm and then leaned over to whisper in his ear. You suggested a way to really make Carmy jealous. Luca played along.

Luca’s eyes went wide, and he rushed to stand up. He grabbed your hand and pulled you with him out to the lobby. You both did your best to pull eager expressions.

Carmy watched you both as you left. He couldn’t shake the pit in his stomach about where you both were going.

Luca pulled you into the one-person bathroom, leaving the door open just a crack. You both knew it was only a minute before Carmy came chasing after you.

“You’re an evil genius. Carmy is gonna lose his shit.” Luca said, laughing at your plan. You walked over to the sink and jumped up so you were sitting on the counter. You both were in a fit of laughter imagining Carmy’s reaction.

Until you heard quick footsteps in the hallway. Luca stepped towards you, and you pulled him to stand in between your legs. “You good?” He asked you, quietly. You quickly nodded, and you both started the show, knowing Carmy was close by.

Luca quickly kissed you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and kissed him back. You unbuttoned the top two buttons of his dress shirt. He ran his fingers through your hair, so it looked a little messy.

Just as you predicted, the door yanked open, and Carmy barged in.

“Carmy, what the fuck?” You asked, pulling out of the kiss.

Carmy’s face was bright red, half from anger and half from seeing you kissing his friend. “Hey, mate. C’mon now,” Luca said.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Carmy said, walking right up to Luca. Luca towered over Carmy, but right now Carmy didn’t care. He’d watched Luca put his hands on you, and he was pissed.

“Carm, leave him alone.” You said, jumping off the counter and standing in between the two men. Luca had a slight smirk. Carmy read it as cockiness, but you knew he was trying not to laugh.

“Do you think you can just put your hands all over her?” Carmy asked, looking past you at Luca.

You grabbed Carmy’s wrist. “That’s enough, Carm. Come on,” you said, dragging him out of the bathroom with you. Over Carmy’s shoulder, you saw Luca give you a thumbs up.

You pulled Carmy with you until you both were on the sidewalk outside the restaurant. You walked over next to where Carmy’s car was parked.

“Alright, Carmy, what the hell is up with you?” You asked, crossing your arms.

His eyes went wide. He wanted to be asking you the same thing. “Nothing's up with me. What about you? You never thought to tell me you were going out with my friend?” He snapped.

You rolled your eyes. “Why do I have to tell you anything. Remember, you and I aren’t dating anymore. I don’t owe you any information.” You told him. Carmy ran his fingers through his hair, huffing to himself.

“Because I care about you. Even if we’re not dating, I still consider you a friend.” He told you. You shook your head, taking a step back from him. “I told you that you couldn’t care about me as much as you do. You’re dating Claire.” You reminded him.

“Claire has nothing to do with this. This is about you pushing me away. I haven’t talked to you in weeks, and I miss talking to you. I know I messed up with the kiss, but you said you could forget it.” He said, his voice cracking slightly. You could tell that everything he was saying was true.

This is where the conversation became a lot more real for you. This wasn’t about your fake date anymore.

“Of course I pushed you away. Because I’m fucking scared, Carmy. When you get scared, you run away. I can’t trust that you’ll actually stay. Even just to be friends. If Claire asked you to stay away from me, you would.” You told him. Your chest felt tight as you finally told him how you’d felt for years. After Carmy broke things off, you’d never been able to get closure.

“I wouldn’t leave you like that.” He said, hurt by the implications.

You tried to take a deep breath, but you felt your eyes start to water. “You’ve done it before.” You snapped. He froze when he realized you were talking about Germany.

“Yeah, remember that I wanted to try long distance, but you got scared? So, you broke things off. You were my best friend, and you just called it quits.” You complained, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“I was trying to save us. I knew how wrong long distance could go. I didn’t want us to hate each other when we broke up.” He told you. You quickly wiped your tears off your cheeks. Carmy started pacing.

“It fucking killed me, Carm.” You said, looking over at him. He almost broke seeing the emotion on your face.

“So, that’s what all this was? This was all revenge? Ignoring me and going on a date with my friend. It was just to give me a taste of my own medicine?” He asked you. You shook your head and rolled your eyes.

“Oh my god, Carmy. Not everything is about you. Maybe I was ignoring you because it was hard seeing you with Claire. And then you tried to tell me you still loved me. I don’t deserve to have that dumped on my plate to deal with.” You told him. You were so irritated that Carmy still wasn’t understanding.

“Do you want me to apologize for how much you mean to me? Because I won’t do it.” He told you, crossing his arms.

“I just want you to acknowledge how fucked up it is that you keep trying to flip flop. You either love me or you don’t. But either way, figure it out and don’t drag me through this anymore—” Carmy cut you off with a kiss.

He grabbed your hips and nudged you back against the side of his car. You grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him close to you. He hesitated for a second.

“Luca’s inside,” he mumbled, stopping you. You shook your head. “We weren’t actually on a date. We did it to make you jealous.” You told him.

You realized that while Luca wasn’t an issue, Claire was.

“Of course you did,” Carmy said with a chuckle. He cupped your face and leaned in to kiss you again. You put your hands on his chest and pushed him away. “We…can’t,” you said, in between kisses.

He buried his face in your neck, pressing kisses to your skin. “Claire,” you mumbled. It was hard for you to not get distracted when Carmy’s lips were on you.

“What about her?” Carmy asked simply. He refocused his attention back on kissing your jawline. “Are you still with her?” You asked him, trying to stop your eyes from fluttering closed.

“Well yes but…” he started to say. You shook your head, moving his face so you could look him in the eyes. “No buts,” you told him firmly.

“I was planning on breaking it off tomorrow after I saw you in this dress tonight. I knew I’d never be able to get you off my mind.” He told you, letting his hands run along the curve of your back. He toyed with the fabric of your dress, caressing your sides.

You leaned into his touch. You always loved the way his hands felt on you. “We shouldn’t, until you tell her.” You said, even though every part of you wanted to kiss him again.

“I’m going to tell her. I promise. I won’t chicken out.” He assured you, noticing your hesitancy.

“We still should wait.” You said. The phrase came out more like a question than a statement. He leaned in closer to you. His nose brushed against yours. “Or we could…” he said, not needing to finish the sentence for you to know what he meant.

You grabbed his collar again and pulled him in to kiss you. He feverishly kissed you back. He quickly reached around his pockets to fish out his car keys.

He unlocked the car door and pulled the back door open for you. You practically jumped into the back seat. Carmy looked around before joining you in the car.

“We’ve waited five years. That feels like enough.” You said, in between kissing him.

“So long— too long,” Carmy corrected himself.

You cupped his face as you kissed him. He playfully nipped at your bottom lip before sneaking his tongue into your mouth. His hands were gripping onto your thighs as your legs wrapped around his waist. His lips tasted like the scotch he’d been drinking.

You were like a drug to Carmy. After not having you for so long, he couldn’t get enough of you. Especially not after hearing you whimper when he pushed his hips against yours.

He sat up quickly to shrug his jacket off his shoulders. You grabbed it and tossed it into the front seat.

You admired him as he straddled you. “You look so pretty staring at up me.” He said, leaning down to peck your lips.

Impatiently, you started unbuttoning the buttons on his shirt while he undid his tie. You ripped his shirt off his arms, letting it fall to the floor. His tie followed behind it.

You were silent as you admired Carmy. You ran your fingers over his chest, admiring his toned chest. “You really…wow,” you mumbled.

He laid you back down on the seat. “You’re getting to admire me, but I’m not getting to see you, gorgeous,” he whispered into your ear. You shivered as you felt his breath on your neck.

He reached down to the bottom of your dress and pulled it over your head. “You look fuckin’ breathtaking,” he said as his lips ghosted down your neck.

He placed a kiss on your lips and then started placing lips down your neck and down your chest. You almost whined as he placed a kiss right between your breasts. He continued leaving sloppy kisses down in a line til he got right above your panties.

He stopped and looked up at you with a smirk. “Such a tease,” you mumbled, pulling his lips back to yours.

“Normally, I’d make you wait a little bit, but I think we’ve both done enough waiting.” He said, slipping his fingers under your bra straps and tugging them off your shoulders.

“C’mere, sweetheart, can’t reach behind ya,” he said, pulling you both up.

He was sitting on the seat with you straddling his lap. You reached behind your back and quickly undid your bra. It fell into Carmy’s lap. You watched his eyes go wide, and you could feel his pants start to tighten below you.

You leaned forward and kissed Carmy’s neck. You started softly sucking on the skin. Carmy leaned his head back against the seat. A low groan escaped his lips.

You reached down to unbuckle his belt. You pulled his pants down to hang around his ankles. You could see how strained his boxers were.

“You’re not gonna leave me, Berzatto?” You asked him. He quickly shook his head. “Never leavin’ you ever again,” he said, reaching out to grab your hips.

You tugged down his boxers enough for his cock to spring out. “You look so fuckin’ sexy.” He groaned, biting down on his lip as he watched you.

He grabbed your hips and held you up as you lined him up. You slowly sunk down on him. You let out a muffled moan as you bit your lip. Carmy sighed and threw his head back.

“Oh my god, Carm,” you mumbled as he stretched you out. He nodded with his eyes tightly closed.

You braced your hands on his shoulders and pulled yourself up and sunk back down onto his length. “Oh…god, you feel— perfect,” Carmy groaned.

He massaged one your breasts in his hand, rolling your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. A high-pitched whine escaped your lips. “That feel good, baby?” Carmy asked, growing cockier by the second. He attached his lips to your other breast, softly sucking and biting.

You quickly nodded your head as you continued to your roll your hips against his. “I’m gonna mark you up so good, sweatheart,” Carmy told you as continued sucking on your soft skin.

“Make me yours, Carm,” you begged. You quickened your pace, slamming your hips down into his. The sound of your skin slapping against his filled the car.

Your eyes rolled back as Carmy hit your g-spot. You desperately tried to grab onto something. Your fingers missed the headrest and slid across the foggy window.

Carmy was mumbling profanities under his breath. His hips thrusted up to meet yours. He got too eager, and you hit the back of your head against the roof of the car.

“Ow, fuck,” you muttered as Carmy cupped the back of your head with his hand.

“C’mere,” he said, slipping his arms around your waist. He pulled you against his chest and shifted you both so you were laying down with him on top of you.

“You don’t have to do any of the work. Just let me treat you real nice,” he told you. He roughly grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist.

With the new angle, he reached even deeper inside of you. “Oh, fuck fuck fuck,” you muttered, weaving your fingers through Carmy’s hair.

“That feel good?” He asked you, thrusting quicker into you. You ferociously nodded. “Yeah, you fill me up so good.” You praised him. Your moans only encouraging Carmy to go faster.

“Almost there, sweetheart,” he mumbled. He reached down and starting rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb.

“Fuck, Carmy,” you yelled out. He kissed you to help muffle your moans. You could feel a tightening in your stomach. You were seeing stars.

You both were distracted when you heard something vibrating on the floor. You both quickly glanced over and saw Carmy’s phone with Claire’s name scrolling across the top. “Oh, shit,” you mumbled, “do you need to—” you started to ask before Carmy stopped you by pressing down on your clit for a second.

Your hips bucked up against his. A loud whine fell from your lips. “Don’t be silly, sweetheart. I’m not answering her call when I’m this deep inside you. Tonight’s all about you, not her.” He mumbled against your neck. He pressed sloppy kisses against your throat.

“Y’know, she knew she couldn’t compete with you. She knew you and me were meant for each other.” He told you.

Your nails scratched down Carmy’s back as you got closer to your high. “Please, Carmy— faster,” you begged him. He quickly obliged.

The sound of you both panting filled the car. His thrusts started to falter. “Look at me, baby. Wanna watch you fall apart,” he mumbled into the crook of your neck.

You balled your hands up in his hair, tugging on his curls. “I’m gonna—” you whined. His hips sped up, ramming into yours. “Yeah, me too,” he said in between groans.

You felt him twitch, and you both came together. A long string of profanities came rolling out of your mouth. He leaned back down to kiss you. His thrusts slowed down as he helped you both cool down.

He pulled out of you and flipped you over so he was laying down with you on top of him. He brushed your hair out of your face, which was pretty sweaty now.

“I fuckin’ love you. No running, you’re it for me.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @lillyssh-tposts @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @missroro @guacam011y @sw33t-cupid @ice-dtae @leyannrae @sia2raw @nyx2021 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @shyconversationalbookworm @shadowhuntyi @visenyaverse @ruzannetheseahorse @superdeath @wandaswifeyforlifey @spookyqueen @mcuswhore @princess-evans-addict @n3ssm0nique @peakascum @cjand10 @namsey1987 @supernaturalstilinski @stephv213 @warriormirkwood @one-sweet-gubler @narliesstuff @bibissparkles @stupiidfrogs @navs-bhat @mattsfavbigtitties @the-sylver-dragon @0-n-1-x @delicateholland @kythefangirl25 @bwoah-its-g @lillysfrogsandbogs @4ria790 @parkerm8001

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

#carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto series #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fic #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #the bear fanfiction #the bear #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto imagine

208 notes · View notes

trialbywombaat · 1 month

Text

Pluto

“One more chapter, Papa?” Ivy asks.

Tommy closes the book and places it on her bedside table. “We already did one more chapter, remember?” he reminds her gently.

He knew the question had been coming, and his answer is the same every time. In the past, getting Ivy to move on would have been a bigger struggle. But they've been working on their nighttime routine for a while now, and she’s getting the hang of it. Her question, and Tommy’s answer, are both part of that routine, and he knows she finds some kind of comfort in it.

He reaches down to switch on the night-light. It’s one of those moon ones Evan saw online and had insisted they buy for her, along with those glow-in-the-dark star stickers that he’d always wanted as a kid. There are stickers everywhere in Ivy’s room, actually - and not just the nice wall decals you can find on Etsy, but the cheap shitty stickers she brings home from school or begs for every time they go to Target. There’s fairies on her bed frame that Tommy knows he’ll never be able to remove, and sticky residue all over her desk from the fire truck stickers that she’d picked off one by one instead of doing her homework. Tommy and Evan hadn’t grown up in the kind of households where kids were able to put stickers on the walls, or play with paint or glitter, or make mud pies, and every time Margaret’s eyes fall on one of Ivy’s marker covered dresses and she smiles one of her cool, polite smiles, Tommy feels a tiny flash of victory that he doesn’t bother to hide.

“What are we gonna dream about, tonight?” he asks, taking Ivy’s hands in his own. Maddie taught them this routine years ago, when they were first trying to get Ivy to sleep in a ‘big girl bed’, and it’s managed to stick.

“Unicorns,” Ivy answers quickly. It’s always unicorns, and has been for months. Tommy’s quite sure that unicorns must be in every dream she ever has, because they are ubiquitous in all of their lives now. She has a unicorn backpack with a unicorn pencil case and a unicorn lunch box, and no less than seven stuffed unicorn toys in bed with her at this very moment, tucked under the unicorn comforter where she is lying, wearing unicorn pyjamas. Even Tommy dreams of unicorns - just last night, he had to ride a unicorn into a wildfire while carrying buckets of water in both hands.

But he still closes her hand into a fist and squeezes it tight before kissing it. “Unicorn dreams it is.” He pulls her in close for a hug. “I love you to the moon and back.”

“I love you all the way to Pluto,” she says back to him, because Oliver Jeffers taught her that the moon is a one year drive away and Pluto is an eleven thousand year drive away, and Ivy is both decent at maths and eager to get the last word.

He kisses her softly on the forehead then pulls back, ready to get up and turn off the light. But Ivy tugs on his sleeve, so he crouches down next to the bed.

“What is it, baby?” he asks her.

“Do you still love Daddy to the moon and back?” she asks, her voice small.

Tommy suppresses a sigh. God, kids are perceptive.

“I still love your Daddy all the way to Pluto,” he promises, trying to reassure her.

“Why are you fighting, then?” she asks.

Tommy strokes Ivy’s hair. “Sometimes people who love each other still fight sometimes,” he explains. “Like when Bandit and Chilli built the swingy chair.”

Ivy’s face is screwed up in concentration. “And then they were happy again?”

“That’s right,” Tommy says.

She doesn’t look mollified yet, though. “Will you ever stop loving each other? Like Sarah’s mum and dad?”

“I don’t think so,” Tommy says truthfully. “There’s too many things I love about him.”

“Like how he always gets the voices right?”

Tommy laughs. Evan is very good at reading stories. It’s always seemed to come naturally to him, whereas Tommy never manages to get the voices quite right. “Yeah, like that,” he agrees. “And how he makes me laugh all the time, and how he knows so many different things” - he hears Ivy’s door creak slightly, and feels two sets of eyes on him now, both watching him intently - “and how he cares so much about helping other people, and how he never gives up.”

He looks up to see Evan smiling softly at him.

Tommy stands up. “It’s time to sleep, now, Ives,” he says, and this time she doesn’t protest.

“Night Papa,” she yawns sleepily, curling in on herself and hugging one of her many toy unicorns.

Tommy turns out the light as he exits the room, then grabs Evan’s hand and pulls him silently towards their own bedroom.

“Evan,” he says as soon as they enter the room, his voice quiet so that Ivy shouldn’t be able to hear them.

Evan cuts him off before he can say anything. “I’m so sorry, Tommy. I really am.”

He’s said that so many times the past few hours, ever since Tommy met him at the hospital that afternoon, and suddenly Tommy feels so guilty for making him feel like he has to say it.

Tommy pulls him closer, puts a hand on the small of his back and another on his shoulder, as though they’re going to dance instead of talk. “I know, love.”

“You- you know I love you and Ivy more than anything; that I always want to come home to you.” His right hand is clenched tightly, and Tommy grabs it and unfurls it gently, running a thumb over the fingernail marks Evan has unwittingly left there.

“Evan,” Tommy says again, and finally Evan stops and looks at him. “You don’t have to apologise. I’m sorry I made you feel like you do. This is my fault, not yours.”

“No, but I - I keep doing this dangerous shit, and-”

Tommy doesn’t like to cut Evan off. But he doesn’t like watching him beat himself up either, so the decision isn’t hard.

“You can’t help it,” he says firmly. Because he’s figured it out.

It was an old habit he’d fallen into, a retread of the arguments they’d had early on in their relationship, when Evan just couldn’t seem to get it into his head how important he was to Tommy. How he didn’t get to sacrifice himself anymore, because he had someone who needed him, who was waiting for him at home.

Instinctively, when Tommy had gotten Bobby’s call today, he’d assumed that it was the same thing, that Evan had forgotten about it again, and to be honest, it had hurt. That they still weren’t enough.

But he’d realised his mistake when he was getting Ivy ready for bed that night. When she’d run from the bathroom to her bedroom after he’d clearly told her not to, and had slipped to the ground because her socks hadn’t had enough grip.

“It’s about performance, not knowledge,” Ivy’s occupational therapist had explained to Tommy and Evan once, shortly after they'd found out that she has ADHD. “She knows exactly what she’s meant to do, and if she could do it, she would.” It was why explaining the rules to Ivy has never really worked, because she already knows them all. She knows she isn’t meant to call out in class, or snatch toys away from other children, or go to the bathroom without asking the teacher - she just doesn’t have the impulse control to stop herself.

And Evan knows that he needs to come home to Tommy and Ivy. If he could stop himself from going ‘full-Buck’, he would.

Which is why it’s Tommy who should be apologising.

He moves his thumb in little circles against Evan’s shoulder, knowing that Evan finds the movement soothing. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just how your brain works.”

Evan’s breath catches a little, and Tommy doesn’t know if it's relief or something else until he speaks. “I don’t know how to stop it,” he says.

Tommy brings him close, squeezing him tighter. “You don’t have to, love,” he says, heart aching at the words. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way.” He leans back again, and places his fingers under Evan’s chin. “I love your brain.”

Evan leans forward, and rests his head against Tommy’s shoulder. “Just my brain?” he asks.

Tommy pretends to consider it. “I guess your spleen is pretty great, too.”

Something for @bucktommypositivityweek. I know it's a day late now, but this one is for Day 1 - What they both love about each other.

#911 abc #bucktommy #evan buckley #tevan #tommy kinard #girl dads bucktommy #my fic #bucktommypositivityweek #evan buckley has adhd

173 notes · View notes

felixknow · 3 months

Note

I am having an absolutely horrid week atm and I could use some fluff with my favorite boy. 😭 Could you write #10 with hannie? 🥺

10. "Is this what we do now? Make out but never talk about it?"

you know what, i'm ALSO having a horrid time rn and hannie is also MY favorite boy, so this is for US <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Han reaches for you the second he opens his bedroom door.

“I heard you come down the hall,” he says, taking your hand and pulling you into the room. He closes the door and flips the lock, and in his split second of hesitation you take the lead and pull him over to his bed. You make yourself at home, crawling to the headboard to sit against his soft pillows. He follows and sits beside you, knees slightly pulled up and leaned against your lap.

“How was work?” he asks, reaching up to brush a stray hair off your cheek.

“Good,” you say, leaning slightly into his touch. “Glad it’s over, though, and now I have a few days off.”

“Good,” he parrots, leaning toward you. “You should spend them with me.”

“Oh yeah?” you ask, trying to bite back a smile as you lean in as well, tilting your head just slightly to the side.

“Mhm,” he hums, bumping his nose against yours on purpose. “It’ll be fun,” he whispers.

“Very tempting…” you respond just before his lips finally meet yours. They’re soft and sweet like usual thanks to his favorite chapstick. He kisses you softly at first, and very innocently as your hands find his waist and his cheek, and his hands drop to hold your hips.

Usually he gets tired of the chaste kissing first and silently begs for entrance into your mouth, but today you’re too giddy to wait, in too much of a good mood to waste such a good opportunity.

Your lips part and your tongue swipes his bottom lip softly. He kisses you open-mouthed, catching your lip and a flash of your tongue a couple of times before he finally stills and connects your lips once more, letting your tongues meet in the middle.

You always lose track of time making out with Han. There’s something intoxicating about the taste of his lips and the gentle way he touches a new part of your hips and waist and back every so often to remind you he’s there. He kisses you without the pressure or demand of something more, making you feel as if you could sink into his bed and call this your happy place forever.

But he pulls away too soon today and presses his forehead against yours. His breath bounces off your face, but you don’t mind.

“Hannie?”

“Is this what we do now?” he asks, eyes screwed tightly shut. “Make out but don't talk about it?”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you ask sweetly. He pulls back a few inches and his eyes open rapidly. He takes in your voice, the excited glimmer in your eye, the soft smile on your mouth.

“Oh,” he says quietly. “I didn't think you were… Do you want to talk about it?”

“Sure. It's always nice to be on the same page.” You playfully walk two of your fingers across his knee and up his leg. He watches it move, stopping at his mid thigh.

“Are you looking for a relationship right now?” he asks.

“I'm not looking at other people for a relationship right now, but if this turns into one I'd be happy.”

Han’s face flushes pink.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you say in a playful ‘no duh’ kind of tone. “Didn't you know I like you? I thought I was pretty obvious.”

“I knew you liked me but I didn't know you would date me-- they're two completely different things sometimes,” he says, stumbling over his words awkwardly.

“I don't think so. Not right now, anyway.” You pause, assessing the look on his face. He clearly doesn’t get it. You laugh softly and pat his thigh. “I like you! You know. Like, romantically.”

His face brightens.

“I like you too. Romantically. I wanna be with you.”

“Okay,” you agree, nodding. “Then let’s be together.”

“Really? It’s that easy?”

You giggle and pull him in for a hug, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and putting one hand against the back of his head.

“What are you so worried about? I want to be with you, you want to be with me. Let’s do it.”

“But my job…” His arms curl around your waist slowly, almost like he expects you to pull away.

“Is incredible and I’m sure it’s so fun. My job is meh. Whatever. I don’t plan on announcing to my bosses or my customers that I have a boyfriend now. You don’t have to announce to anyone that you have a girlfriend,” you say, running your fingers through his hair slowly. “Unless you want to tell your members. That would be fine.”

“You don’t care about what could happen if Stay find out?”

“Not really. You keep to yourself anyway. How are they gonna find out? We’re both homebodies anyway.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. We’ll be careful.” He finally hugs you properly, holding you tightly and burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“I’m glad we talked about this,” he mumbles.

“Me too.” You sigh happily and press a kiss behind his ear.

“I’ve been too scared to bring it up for, like, two weeks now.”

“You could have had a girlfriend two weeks earlier if you’d just asked,” you tease. He whines dramatically, wiggling both of you side to side to make you laugh at him.

“Y/Nah,” he whines, “you didn’t have to say that! Now I really regret not bringing it up sooner.”

“It’s not like we have an expiration date, Hannie. We’ve got the future ahead of us.”

He slowly stills and readjusts his head on your shoulder. He’s eerily quiet for a few moments before he sighs contentedly and kisses your shoulder.

“Does that make today our anniversary?” he asks.

“I believe so.”

“Happy anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary, Hannie.”

masterlist | Wanna see the other members? Ask <3 | Send me a number!

Do NOT repost my content on any website for any reason.

#han x reader #han jisung x reader #han fluff #han jisung fluff #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #han jisung x reader fluff #han x reader fluff #skz x reader fluff #stray kids x reader fluff

343 notes · View notes

qierxing · 1 year

Text

A/N: An interpreted continuation of @shiny-jr wonderful fic. (checks calendar) Uhm, happy three month update to this series AND 1k notes on the first part! I would say sorry for the wait, but I really did need it LOL. Anyway, it's not super obvious, but the timeline is a bit all over the place in this part, because I'm jumping back and forth between past and present.

TW/CW: Immolation, violence, implied stalking+actual stalking, obsessive behavior, mild psychological and body horror, toxic relationships, Yuu uses it/its pronouns, we get a little meta in here, the boys are FIGHTINGGG I. II. | Isekai AU | Yan! Heartslabyul x Reader

“Who are you?” said the Caterpillar.

This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, “I—I hardly know, Sir, just at present—at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.”

“What do you mean by that?” said the Caterpillar, sternly. “Explain yourself!”

“I ca’n’t explain myself, I’m afraid, Sir,” said Alice, “because I am not myself, you see.”

— Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Caroll

vi. Mourning

It is incredibly hard to get Yuu alone.

Whether it be by the forces of fate or just because so many vie for their attention, there is rarely, if ever, any time when someone is able to spend time personally alongside them. The only exception to this rule is Grim, who was practically the player's companion from the beginning.

So when Ace Trappola manages a rare chance to snag some one on one time with Yuu, he guns for it. Course, he had to time it perfectly.

It was just another night like any other. Ace and Deuce decided to come over to hang out for a casual sleepover as usual. The four of them did initially start out studying, before the textbooks and worksheets were being abandoned in favor of more exciting things, such as the deck of cards that Ace brought with him.

Sending Deuce and Grim off to get snacks through a won bet over a card game was easy as pie.

"Hey Ace?"

He hums in response, letting Yuu know he's listening. His nimble fingers shuffle the worn cards, flipping through them with practiced ease. Stacking them up quickly, he wonders if he should try to impress Yuu with another card trick to gain their enthralled praise.

"Do you…like…being my friend?"

The question makes him blink and look up in surprise at Yuu. It feels blasphemous to hear such doubt lingering in their words.

"Why? Scared I'm gonna ditch ya?" He teases.

Yuu doesn't respond, only giving a sheepish smile back.

"I-It's not like I don't like being friends with you." He tries to keep his cool. "I just-"

Yuu's smile doesn't falter. "It's okay, Ace."

He's reminded of his previous girlfriend in middle school. It was more of a fling than a serious thing, but it's something he remembers vividly. Their breakup, after all, was rather dramatic.

"You're too much, Ace. Sometimes you just take it too far."

What was even her name? Elizabeth? He could barely even remember, but for some reason, he still recalls the intense way her face was twisted in burning resentment. He tried to bury it in the past. He swore he would never fall in love or get into another relationship, preferring friendships over any kind of romantic trysts.

Now that he looks at Yuu, he already knows he's screwed up big time.

Yuu's gaze is no longer meeting his, instead staring into the fireplace that Grim had so generously set up earlier. The crackling blue flames reflect in their irises and in that moment, dread curls inside Ace's stomach. Yuu doesn't seem right.

"Hey…you okay?" He asks hesitantly, placing a hand on their shoulder.

Yuu doesn't move, still staring at the fire intently. He opens his mouth to ask again, but then they speak.

"If I wasn't acting like myself, would you still like me?"

Another question out of left field.

"Even if you somehow grow anemones on your head, Yuu's still Yuu, right?" His heart swells in pride at the way their lips quirk at his inside joke.

"Yeah…" they murmur back.

"Wanna see somethin' cool?" he says, holding out a card. Yuu tilts their head questioningly.

"It's the ace of hearts. What about it?"

"It's not just the ace of hearts!" Ace puffs out his cheeks. "Don't you know the meaning of this card?"

Yuu shakes their head.

"It means good news for yourself or someone close. Practically a lucky charm!" Ace waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "So how can things go wrong now that you have me?"

Yuu snorts and shoves him playfully. "Yeah, yeah, okay, Mr. Lucky Charm."

But it works. The foggy clouds clear from Yuu's eyes, finally returning them to the familiar luster he's used to. For the rest of the night, there is no hint of hollowness within them. And Ace hopes he will never see that sight again.

He should've known something was up since that night.

When Headmaster Crowley personally makes an appearance at their dorm, he should've realized it then. If there was anything that the old raven hated more, it was having to do more work than usual.

"That person wasn't an imposter." Crowley says, coughing awkwardly into his fist.

The solemn words echo in his head on end. The rest of the Headmaster's words start to tune out for Ace. Automatically, his legs begin to move on their own. The calls of the others chase after him, but he ignores them, racing out of the lounge and towards the mirror portal.

Because if you didn't hurt Yuu-

-then what had he done?

When he first arrived in NRC, he didn't even know that Ramshackle dorm existed. Not until Yuu came to reside there; until he had to beg for shelter from them when he was chained with that damn collar. He knew that they didn't have to take him in. But they did, and maybe that's why Ace couldn't turn his back after that.

The building before him is no longer the broken down hovel that he remembers back then. He remembers how the roof was almost caving in and wooden beams were always in danger of collapsing. Each knock on the entrance doors would send cascades of dust upon his head. Now, the walls are painted with a fresh coat of paint, the roof has new shingles, and the place actually looks like a house you could safely live in.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Prefect! Are you there?!" He yells, desperation leaking into his voice. "Please!"

Bang! Bang!

He's gotta be out of his damn mind, acting like some crazy person. But he can't help but be blinded by his fear. So he keeps hitting the door with his fists, praying, hoping, for…well that someone would open the door.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Yuu!!" He screams, and his voice echoes around him, mocking his helplessness. His fists are becoming numb from slamming the wood so hard, but he can't stop himself.

"Yuu–!"

"Oi! Ace!!!" A rough hand on his shoulder shoves him back and before he could knock the souvnabit-

"Ace, look at me!"

He's stopped by Deuce's fists meeting his in an even match of strength. Like an illusion broken, Ace stills and yanks his hands back.

There's only heavy breathing in between them for a long while.

"...they're not here." Ace snaps to look at Deuce, who only closes his eyes in a painful grimace.

"What do you mean, 'not here'?" Ace asks.

Deuce doesn't say anything for a beat.

"What do you mean they're–"

"They're in the infirmary." Deuce's words flow out in a breathless rush. "The Headmaster said that after you ran."

Fuck, he just acted like an idiot then. No wonder no one was responding to his absolute earth shattering door banging and yelling. Then the meaning of Deuce's words begin to sink in. Oh Seven, no–

He turns and before he could even step in the direction of the main building, his arm is yanked back.

He snarls at Deuce. "Let me go! I have to see the prefect!"

"Housewarden is calling you back." Deuce forces out through gritted teeth and closed eyes. "The Headmaster said that…they don't want to see anyone."

And like a fire put out, Ace's anger chokes to flickering embers.

He lets Deuce guide him back, all the way from the Ramshackle dorm, to the mirror portal, and then back to Heartslabyul's lounge where the other three are grimly awaiting them.

Ace half expects to be yelled at once he passes the threshold. Or get some kind of lecture on how he should have better manners than to just run off like that. It would've been just like his housewarden to only care about weird, arbitrary rules when there were other arguably more important matters.

But his housewarden sits silently on his gilded velvet throne with glassy eyes. There's no anger burning behind them, and the freshmen are terrified to see their once proud and fearsome queen reduced to this husk. He almost would rather him back to the state where he was barking out orders for them. The silence in the lounge is deafening.

Ace swears they must be all thinking the same thing.

Please let this be a bad dream.

He tried calling you. Texting you. Hell, he even tried messaging you on Magicam! Magicam, of all things!

Anxiety claws at his heart with each unread message and dial voice tone greeting. He has so much to say, to ask for-

Deuce wasn't faring well on his side either. He had also tried calling and texting you, to no avail. Grim, that traitor, hadn't come back to visit Heartslabyul at all since the incident. Never mind the fact he had only himself to blame for that—he thought at the very least the cat direbeast would have some sense of pity for their friendship and throw them a bone.

Ace tried two more times to meet you.

First, during your infirmary stay, when you were still unconscious.

The second time was when you returned to Ramshackle dorm with Grim.

Maybe the Seven were punishing him for his hubris. Or he supposes this is just karma. Because both times, he fails spectacularly at the front door of Heartslabyul. Because of this, he's the reason why Riddle had put them all on house arrest (with the exception of academic reasons, of course).

It's a declaration that would've been met with mutiny from all of them, if it weren't for the fact that even Headmaster Crowley had explicitly forbade anyone from showing up on Ramshackle's doorstep or trying to meet you. So he understands. Really! He does. He's seen how Riddle holes up in his room, muttering to himself while carrying out boxes upon boxes of crumpled paper. When he manages to snag a stray paper that flutters out on garbage day, Ace realizes that Riddle is also just as frenzied trying to reach out to you. Even if he is going about it in an old fashioned way.

He'll chip in to help. If his housewarden is left to his own devices, they’ll all be fossils by the time he sends what he deems a satisfactory letter.

And the faster they do this, the faster they have a chance of reaching you.

vii. Embalming

The most horrifying thing is that it doesn't seem to care about dying.

That cursed pile of ceramic shards had disappeared—no, pieced itself back together—and once again, it became the smiling face of Yuu, the being they all knew and used to adore.

Riddle Rosehearts immediately smashed it to pieces again under the weight of his magic.

No one had tried to stop their housewarden. Not even the faceless mobs. Even if they were all alarmed at the erratic behavior of their housewarden, they could not deny the fear of seeing something dead come back alive. With not so much as a dent or wound in them, for that matter.

The third time it happened, Riddle ordered for the remains to be dumped into the school’s incinerator at the highest heat level. Surely, that would be enough.

He watched as the incinerator roared and shuddered, shaking as if the pits of hell had opened. After a few agonizing minutes, the rumbling stops, and before he can even breathe a sigh of relief, the iron hatches creak open, and out strolls Yuu, perfectly fine and pieced together again.

It's magic. Or some kind of century old curse. Of course it is. After all, it was at a higher power than even Draconia's comprehension. Why he didn't consider the possibility beforehand is something he berates himself now.

What might be the most damning thing is that it has no fear or suspicion in its face; even after the multiple times it’s been maimed and torn apart. Not like you, who immediately closed themselves off at being hurt so thoroughly.

The irony isn't lost on him. The temptation of letting the puppet take its place back in favor of just bringing everything back to how it was is something Riddle could not deny. But now that he's actually met you, Yuu just seems more of a shadow of what he remembers during your interactions together.

It has your face. It acts like you.

But it's not you.

When Ace asks after the commotion at the Unbirthday party on how he was able to figure out that it wasn’t [First], he had to take a moment to gather his thoughts. Ace’s face changes into something of disbelief when Riddle merely replies with: “[First] takes their tea with two sugars and a dash of milk.”

“You were so sure only because of that?”

He doesn’t want to think what Ace’s face would look like if he had explained his whole list of reasons how he realized that the puppet wasn’t you. How he soaked up as much as he could when you came over for the tea party. Your expressions, your little habits, the way you fidget…it was all filed away in Riddle's head and later, his private notebook.

But that doesn’t matter now. Now, there’s an even bigger problem than the puppet resurrecting itself.

Grim is missing again.

This alone should've been more worrying than anything for Yuu, but it merely shrugs and says it’s not sure where he scampered off to. He's more than suspicious, of course, but there is no proof, which is infuriating already.

But without Grim, they are missing the key to finding [First].

The others raise hell once they hear the news Riddle reports at the weekly housewarden meeting. A new wave of tension washes over NRC and with it, an unprecedented deep disdain for the puppet. It returns back to classes unannounced, making Ace and Deuce rant to him about how weird it is that it’s trying so hard to act like nothing had happened. It attends school events with their camera, drumming up conversations like normal between all of them; despite the fact it gets ignorance or violence in response (depending on the person it greets).

But none of them are really sure on how to interact with Yuu.

The nicer ones, like Trey or Deuce, entertain Yuu with frigidly civil responses, in hopes of boring the puppet and making it flit away to another victim. Meanwhile, he and Ace have finally come together on an agreed opinion: that they would rather die before letting the puppet even think it could take [First]’s place.

“Go away.”

Yuu merely smiles in response to Riddle’s annoyed voice. The puppet leisurely lounges in the chair across the table from him. The school library is vast but empty, his authoritative voice echoing down the long halls. Several floating books flit past above their heads and the chandeliers above flicker with bright candlelight.

“I just wanted to keep you company.” Riddle purses his mouth in disgust. It’s invasive, it’s gross, and most of all it feels wrong to hear those words coming from Yuu.

“I didn’t ask for your company,” he replies coldly. “Shouldn’t you know that it’s bad manners to bother someone who wants to be left alone?”

“I don’t think you like being left alone, Riddle.” He flinches at the way Yuu’s eyes bore into him. “Well, then again, you sure like to pretend you’re fine, don’t you?”

His hand tightens around the textbook he’s reading about cursed dolls. There would be no point if he brought out his magical pen and reduced it to rubble. But he is tempted, if only to get some peace and quiet for just a few minutes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Riddle says.

“Hmm…” Yuu hums into its hand, “...then I suppose I will just let you be. What a shame, I had something entertaining to tell.”

“What? What do you mean?”

Yuu giggles and waves him off. “No, no! You said you didn’t want my company now. Why should I tell you anything?”

He resists the urge to incinerate the book in his hands. “Fine! I would like your company. What is this ‘entertaining’ thing you want to tell me so badly?”

“Hmm…how insincere,” Yuu tilts its head coyly with a smile more akin to a smirk. “But I guess that’s the most I can get.”

“Since you’ve all been driving yourselves crazy, [First] is safe.” The floor feels like it’s been yanked underneath him. The puppet is smiling still, as if it’s all some big joke rather than the revelation it delivered. He can hear his blood roaring through his ears.

“You…” Riddle snarls, face heating into a bright red rage. “What did you do to them?”

It bursts into laughter at his face.

“Why, I only granted their wish!”

Its laughter is cut short by the sound of ceramic being crushed, and Riddle is left shakily breathing at the pile of shards that used to be Yuu. The puppet’s words churn over and over in his head.

What did you wish for?

It is currently 3:20 on a Wednesday afternoon.

In his planner, the bullet point neatly penned on the schedule shows ‘Studying for History Test’ in bold blue ink for the time slot. ‘History of the Queendom of Roses’ is laid open on his desk, to the chapter about the local mythos of the area, just as he intended. His notes from lecture are next to it, with several of his stationary needed to jot down annotations.

And yet, Riddle has yet to touch any of these items or actually adhere to his daily schedule—he’s too distracted by what he should do in order to reach the player.

Riddle's already embarrassed enough, resorting to handwritten letters with the best calligraphy he can muster. He's sent only a couple that passed his satisfaction, and they have all been met with judgemental silence. He’s hunched over another crumpled letter near ripping his hair out when someone knocks on his bedroom door. He quickly shoves the envelope under some textbooks out of frantic instinct.

“Come in.”

A familiar bob of red orange hair pops out behind his door, and Riddle raises an eyebrow at the underclassman who enters.

“Ace? What is it?” Normally, Ace would never be in his room if he could help it. If he was in Riddle’s room, it most likely meant he was either being scolded or punished. And Ace’s eyes are shifting side to side, as if he was trying to sneak his way in.

“Out with it, Ace.” He’s not in the mood for the underclassman’s shenanigans.

“Housewarden, you’re writing letters to the prefect, aren’t ya?” The question completely takes him off-guard sputtering.

“W-What does t-that have to do with you?” He tries to maintain his composure, but Ace is already giving him a smug smirk for the one up on him. Of all people, it had to be him finding out.

"I had an idea, Housewarden. Why don't we send them something with the letter?" Riddle blinks in surprise.

“...How smart of you for once, Ace.” It was so simple, yet he marvels at the idea's brilliance. Perhaps there was merit in trying this proposal.

“Hey! What the hell does that mean?!” His underclassman snaps back in a huff. “Whatever, point being, maybe we should switch it up instead of letters all the time.”

He crosses his arms, “And what do you suggest? There’s not much we can really send that hasn't been sent already by other dorms.”

Ace winces. Clearly he didn’t think about the other dorms with more affluent people; people who had more than enough thaumarks and prestige to spend it to appeal to you. Riddle can't blame him either: although he is at the top of the school and his parents are well known mages, it's not like any of that could help him here. All of them, in a sense, were stuck in that situation.

For once, he starts to resent not having more.

"Ugh, well…maybe it doesn't need to be so fancy, you know?" Ace rubs his neck, face scrunched in frustration. "Like…uh…you know-flowers! People send flowers all the time, yeah?"

This is true. And for Queendom of Roses’ residents, it has become custom to send bouquets with subtle messages left in petals and stems. Although he is a bit loath to admit that he isn’t as well versed in the language of flowers compared to hedgehogs.

"And what do you recommend, Ace?" He asks. "What would be the best flower to send to the prefect in our circumstance?"

"We got all these roses, why not send them that?" Ace responds, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Riddle coughs in annoyance.

"Why not just procure some from Sam's shop? Today is Wednesday. Do you not remember rule 228?" He chides. Ace groans, rolling his eyes.

"Not the weird rules again…"

"Ace."

"Yeeesss Housewarden…" The card soldier mock salutes with a deadpan expression. "I'll see if we can get some flowers at Sam's."

"You better, or else it's–"

"-off with my head, I got it, I got it." Riddle seethes as Ace cuts him off and dashes out of his room before he could get another word in. So troublesome…

Still, there's nothing to do except wait for his card soldier to report back. He turns back to his desk, bringing out the crumpled letter from its hiding place. Running a hand over the crumpled pages, he attempts to pick up his pen again, but fails as his thoughts begin to wander.

Riddle only manages to pen a couple legible sentences when his door slams open, banging against the wall. He almost falls out of his chair in shock from the loud noise. How was Ace back so quickly?

"Have you not heard of knocking?!" He scowls, turning around to see Ace panting and sweating as if he had run a marathon.

"Never mind that, Housewarden, I saw them!" Ace shouts.

“What are you jabbering…” Riddle trails off in realization. “You better not be horsing around, Ace.”

“Do you think I would lie to you about this?” Ace retorts frantically. “I saw them at Sam’s shop working the cashier!”

For a moment, his mind races with this information. If you were working at Sam’s shop, it would explain why you weren’t showing up to classes, let alone in the hallways or rooms of NRC. It’s a clever ruse—classes may be over during this time of day, but nearly all of them were participating in mandatory club activities or study labs. No wonder no one else has caught on to this. Riddle rubs his chin in thought, settling back in his chair.

“What are you going to do now, Housewarden Riddle?” Ace asks hesitantly. His eyes are filled with some kind of anticipation and hope, no doubt wondering if he could get some leeway in his own agenda. Normally, he would go right away as there was no need to hesitate about these kinds of things.

But. Crowley’s stern announcement comes back to his mind and guilt starts to creep in.

“First, we’ll go with your idea, Ace.” He responds. “The ban hasn’t been lifted, after all.” Ace opens his mouth to protest, but he holds a hand up to interrupt him.

“But if that doesn’t work, then I’m sure even Crowley can’t say anything about coincidences.”

viii. Calling Hours

“I’m not joking around, you two.”

There’s very few times that the vice housewarden of Heartslabyul gets truly mad. His patience seems boundless, honed by years of taking care of younger siblings at home and then dealing with rowdy underclassmen in NRC. But even his saint-like patience could only stretch so far.

“I told you, we didn’t do it!” Ace scowls with furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms. Meanwhile, Deuce is silent by his side, face twisted with conflicting emotions. “You don’t even have proof! You just singled us out just because!”

“Who else was around the kitchen when I left it?” Trey asks, voice starting to rise in anger. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you two lurking around before?”

The two freshmen began to speak out, voices rambling over each other and cascading into a loud shouting match that was barely intelligible.

“We just wanted to see if we could get something from the fridge, how were we supposed to know someone would-”

“Me and Ace just wanted to bring something along when we deliver the Housewarden’s invitation to-”

"You dumbass, don't just say that out loud-!"

It’s at this moment that Cater Diamond strolls in, takes one look at the mess of the situation and does a 180 back round to the door. But it’s too late, because the interruption is just enough for Ace to sink his hooks into him.

“Cater-senpai, you believe us, right?” Ace shouts after the orange head, making him flinch in place. “You saw us get the order from Housewarden Riddle!”

Cater turns around slowly like a door on rusty hinges, with an expression that screams of not wanting to be involved. "Oh Acey! Uhm, you mean the letter Riddle gave you two-"

"Yes!" Deuce interrupts in earnest, already trying to barrel his way to proving his innocence. "Housewarden Riddle entrusted us to deliver the tea party invitation ourselves personally."

Cater turns to Trey, who is rubbing the bridge of his nose, eyes closed with a tiredness that seems comically reminiscent of an old man. "Well, I'm not sure what this is all about, Trey, but maybe you should cut 'em some slack and let it go."

The other senior nods in reluctant agreement and the two freshmen all but nearly trample over each other trying to run from the tension filled room. But they're stopped in their tracks when Trey calls out again.

"Wait, you two." The duo slowly looks back with cautious eyes.

"You wanted to bring something to the prefect, didn't you?" Trey tilts his head to one of the many strange topsy turvey cabinets in the kitchen. "I have some leftover cookies that I made yesterday. Take them. I'm sorry for accusing you guys like that."

Ace and Deuce exchange confused glances, and although Ace looks away in denial, Deuce nods in gratitude. They leave the kitchen just as chaotically, this time with the aroma of lavender following them.

A brief silence follows their absence, while Cater raises an eyebrow at Trey.

"Sooo…care to spill the tea?"

"Don't even start." Trey groans.

Cater seats himself on one of the stools near the counter, waiting. Trey busies himself with cleaning the stoves and counter, trying not to meet Cater's eyes. Silence falls, but it's with none of the comfort that Cater is familiar with. Giving up, he turns to his phone, refreshing his Magicam dash mindlessly. This continues for a good while until finally—

A low sigh, then– "Somebody took my candied violets."

Cater looks up from his phone. Another beat passes, and he realizes it's not a passing statement.

"It's not like you to get this bent out of shape over your ingredients going MIA." Cater shifts his face onto the elbow meeting pristine marble while shoving his phone away. "You sure that one of the froshes didn't just end up taking them thinking they were for everyone?"

Trey lets out a rough guffaw. "You know better than I do that the others don't touch our stuff."

Cater taps his fingers on the polished white granite, hands already itching to grab his phone and check for updates, but he restrains himself. "That's…mostly true."

"That can only mean one of you guys has taken it." The hairs on Cater's neck raise at Trey's tone.

"Hey now," Cater grins, raising his hands in mock surrender, "you heard it from those two. I was with Riddle when he gave them that invitation."

"I know." Cater's fingers twitch as Trey carelessly tossed aside the rag used to clean the counter into a bucket. The soggy fabric makes a hollow sound against the wood, echoing rather loudly in contrast. "But Riddle would never do such a thing either."

Cater resists the urge to roll his eyes. It's true that their cute housewarden would hardly dare to stoop to thievery, but Trey's blind faith in him can be annoying at times. After all, didn't their little teapot tyrant threaten to kill the prefect at one point?

He supposes that was his fault, though.

"Then it's back to square one." Cater shrugs. "Besides, what were you even planning to do with them if you weren't gonna eat it?"

The baker runs a hand through his mussed forest green hair and frowns. "I was going to bake a cake with them as a peace offering to the prefect."

Cater's mouth forms an 'o' shape in realization. "That's pretty big brain."

"Yeah, but look how that turned out."

"It's fine~you were able to at least send cookies this time round." Cater finally cracks, digging into his pocket for the familiar grooves of his phone case. "All's well that ends well, right?"

Trey doesn't respond and Cater is too engrossed in his phone to look up to see his expression. He slides off the stool naturally, tapping through recent posts and comments, eyes laser focused on recent posts on his dash.

"Cater."

There it is. It's the most recent story reel by Ace(according to the time stamp, about two minutes ago). It's an inconspicuous black out picture with several cute teapot and teacup stickers decorating the screen. The banner message is short and sweet: 'Dorm tea party bout to get real this month 🤔😶'

"Cater." Cater's attention snaps back and towards his friend, who gazes at him with dark eyes.

"Please don't lie to me next time."

With that, Cater watches as his long time friend finally leaves the kitchen.

Thank the Seven he did. He might have been a decent actor, but Trey has been with him through thick and thin, and it's given him the annoying ability to see through his tells.

Really now. Trey knows that he hates sweets. Shouldn't that be enough of an alibi?

It's not fair that Trey already has everything to set him up for a good relationship with you. Even if they're all set back by their violent reaction to you arriving in this world, he's sure it would only take a couple tries with Trey offering genuine heartfelt food to get to you.

It's just not fair.

Isn't he fun to hang out with? He consistently gets compliments online for his suave looks and easy personality. So why couldn't he compare to-

He shakes his head. There's no point in overthinking it now. Cay Cay #3 had easily taken the cutely decorated jar of violets and discarded it in the dorm dumpster. Like candy from a baby.

He knows it's petty. But for once, he feels much better, knowing that he upset Trey's original plans to ensnare you.

Now, he once again checks Ace's story reel and screenshots it, while quickly pulling up the search bar. He just needs to level the playing field.

There can only be one fake bitch in this house and Cater has had enough of the competition.

“I wasn’t aware that you were going to visit me, Cater.”

The puppet tilts its head with a warm smile, but there’s a frosty undercurrent to the greeting. It’s clear that he’s not welcome, if the way it’s blocking the doorway of Ramshackle has anything to say.

“Yeah, I ended up losing something here. You mind if I look for it, Yuu-chan?” Cater asks innocently. “Promise it won’t take too long.”

“Hm, sure. But I don’t think you’ll find what you’re looking for.” Yuu's grin is sharp as a razor blade. It knows what he’s here for and it’s definitely taunting him. That little–

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to look~” He responds back airily. His fist curls around his phone in his pocket tightly. The puppet shrugs and walks off, leaving him standing in the doorway.

It’s been a while since he’s personally been at Ramshackle dorm. Cater remembers how Ace complained about the house being a real fixer upper, but then again, he doesn’t remember much of that, since Yuu always spent most of the time at Heartslabyul dorm. The renovations certainly made it much more pleasing to the eye and more importantly, livable by HOA standards.

There’s nothing to write home about the living room. The coffee table is bare and there’s no wrinkles in the sofa cushions at all. It’s a little eerie—as if no one even lived in the house in the first place. The only sign of living was perhaps the fact it is clean of dust or dirt.

Nothing in the kitchen either. He gives a wayward glance to the second floor, searching for any signs of movement. Couldn’t hurt to be thorough.

Rows of tall doors pass by as Cater opens each one of them. A storage closet, a spare room, an electric cabinet, another storage area–it all blurs by after the fourth door. There really is nothing, as if the whole house has been wiped of any trace of you. He's about to toss in the towel when an old, dusty memory crops up. His little freshman, Ace. Cater swears he had been making fun of Yuu for seeing strange things at night. Something about a mouse?

Right, their room! Why didn't he think of looking there?

His feet take him rapidly from memory to the door that was the third from last in the hallway in the east wing. He manages to wrench the door open to see a regular bedroom, bed sheets barely stirred. Before he can even put one foot in, a throat clears behind him.

"It's rather rude to go into other people's bedrooms, don't you think?"

You got to be kidding me. Cater turns around with the fakest smile plastered across his face. Yuu looks unamused, tapping its foot impatiently against the wooden floorboards.

"Just wanted to make sure, y'know?" Cater replies. Yuu gives a tight smile back. It goes around him and shuts the door with a hard thunk.

"Ever heard about how curiosity killed the cat?"

Cater shakes his head in surrender, "I guess I need to look elsewhere for my lost item."

The entrance doors slam shut behind him hard enough to startle several birds out the dead trees in the yard. Cater doesn't bother giving a look back as he strides out of the yard and past the gated fence surrounding the property. That glimpse was enough and much more. Cater smirks to himself, taking his phone out and sending a quick text message to the group chat. Yes, curiosity may have killed the poor kitty cat…

But satisfaction brought it back.

viiii. Eulogy

It might surprise people to know that Trey Clover's first real friend is Che'nya Pinker.

That's not to say that Trey had trouble getting along with others as a kid, oh no. Everyone in his neighborhood agreed that he was a very sweet boy, who looked out for others around him. When he wasn’t taking care of his baby sister, he would be asked by other parents around the block to look after their own children, whether that be playing soccer games with the more energetic kids or patty cakes with the quiet ones. So it isn’t a stretch to say that he’s friends with nearly everyone. But Che’nya was a special case.

Their first meeting is still burned into Trey’s memory.

“You see it too, don’cha?” The boy had greeted him while swinging upside down on a low hanging tree branch. Trey had half a mind to scold him for the dangerous action before he actually looked at him.

The first thing that takes Trey off guard is that he has eyes. They’re a shiny yellow, just a shade lighter than his. His pupils are long and thin, not round like his at all. He supposes it must be like a cat’s pupils—for he’s never seen anything like it. Then it’s his unique colorful hair, streaks of light pink intermingling with dark purple, making a strange striped pattern across the chopped uneven hair. Trey faintly recalls a certain cat from their local legends, whose fur boasted those very same colors.

“...What are you talking about?” Trey eyes him warily. The cat boy gives a cheeky grin. He vanishes and then reappears in front of him, albeit with missing arms.

“The people around us who wear the faces of strangers.” Trey’s skin gets goosebumps at the way the boy observes him. He is not looking through Trey, but at him. Their eyes are directly making contact. “But you’re different. You have the face of a friend.”

“And what do you mean by that?” Trey furrows his eyebrows. The boy's grin stretches wider in response. (His teeth were rather blunter than expected, but his canines were pointed.)

“You’re strange. I’m stranger. Together, we can both be strange,” the cat boy chirps back lightheartedly. “The name’s Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker. But you can just call me Che’nya.”

Something in his mind had clicked then. It’s hard to explain the feeling–just that it felt like a puzzle piece put into place. He hadn’t known it then, but at that point, the hands of fate had moved.

Whatever the case may be, Trey was grateful to have Che’nya. Because now he knows that he isn’t crazy; not when he couldn’t see his parent’s faces nor his baby sister’s or even his other friends'. Che’nya too, only shrugs his shoulders when Trey asks him about his grandfather.

“The old man? Yeah, they say I have his eyes, but I wouldn’t know.” The statement is so casually delivered that Trey can hardly believe he’s talking about his only living relative and guardian. “His face does not mirror mine in my mind.”

Staring down at you, shivering with cold and hunger, he feels something churn in him again, just like that fateful day.

He has his orders from Riddle: bring in the imposter alive. Trey isn’t a violent sort and nor does he enjoy boasting his strength over others like a sadist. And he cannot deny the feeling of cold rage that day when Yuu shuts down, fear inundating him that he may never, ever, get an explanation for the world he was born in. Why he and Che’nya were special, why he had to witness Riddle suffer under his mother–what was it all for?

Your face. There is no blank stretched skin—he can see your wide open eyes, bloodshot and fixated on him. Your mouth too, shaped in a pained grimace, lips bruised and bloodied from previous skirmishes. Surely, surely, there must be a reason why you were here. Why you bear the same face as Yuu. You hold all the answers, if you would just cooperate.

“Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Trey tries reaching out, but you scurry back into the hedges, squinted eyes wary and untrusting. You remind him of a frightened hedgehog, prickly spines bristled and body curled in to protect yourself. “I just wanna talk.”

“Go away, please,” the imposter quietly pleads. “Just pretend you never saw me! I swear I didn’t even know how I got here…”

Trey swallows hard.

“Just come quietly. Please.” He is the one begging now. “It’ll be easier for all of us.”

“For who?” The imposter barks a sharp laugh. Trey doesn't miss the way they wince in pain from their wounds. “For me? Or for you?”

He doesn’t have an answer. The sound of running footsteps has him turning, and when he looks back, you’re already gone. The only traces that you were there at all were faint splotches of red blood and crushed grass.

Trey wonders if this, too, was meant to be fate.

—

Trey’s been lovingly dubbed as someone reliable. Some consider him to be an older brother figure due to his nagging and supportive care. It's ingrained in him at this point from the years he’s spent playing babysitter. Trey knows the students around him are not his younger siblings who need constant watching (although their actions say otherwise).

But he worries.

Just a bit. Trey knows better than anyone that you can take care of yourself just fine. He's seen how you carry yourself within those hedges.

It's just that, he doesn't know if you're okay right now. How could he know? You've been silent even in the face of Riddle's unceasing letters. So of course he's just a bit unsure if you're actually okay, or if you don't trust them enough to say so.

Trey finds himself more frustrated with the ban they're under. Not because of the inability to see you, although that is part of it. No, it's because Riddle has managed to skirt around that rule to desperately grab onto you, and that was just enough to wear you down.

He thinks if he was bold enough, he could've tried.

As if it wasn't enough, even Ace and Deuce find their own way to get to you, snatching up the chance to deliver the monthly tea party invitation. It takes everything in Trey to clench his teeth and let go—even when Cater ruins his plans. He can't get mad here because it won't get him any closer to you. He has to be the bigger person.

If there is one thing Trey knows about Cater, it's that he absolutely hates getting sweaty or dirty. If Cater wasn’t trying to get out of running those P.E laps, he would absolutely be shirking any extra work assigned. So he's more than suspicious when Cater bounces up to him with a grin saying he could help cover Trey's science club duty of watering plants.

Trey likes to think he can tell when Cater’s lying. His close friend's happy go lucky demeanor often throws off others, but he’s been with him long enough to pick out his subtle tells. His eyebrow twitches when he’s particularly anxious and the corner of his mouth tends to perk up if he’s feeling particularly daring or desperate. Trey figures this must be something that even he can’t trust Trey with, if he’s going out of his way to take on extra work.

So Trey considers this repayment for letting him take his violets. He watches as Cater dashes off in labwear, waiting for a minute, before following after him. His duty was in the tropical zone of the botanical garden, so he has no worries even if he does lose him.

He nearly does a double take when he sees you walking in the courtyard hallways by yourself. And before Trey could rethink his actions, he follows behind you, eyes not leaving your form for a minute.

You look like you haven't slept well. There's dark circles under your eyes. He hopes you're brushing your teeth. There’s no signs of bandages or wounds that he remembers you in, which he supposes is one relief. Even if he so desperately wishes to cook you a proper meal—you look like you could fall over at any minute.

The realization your path is leading to the botanical garden comes just as Trey catches sight of the glass dome. He wants to rush in after you, but he stops himself just as the door swings close behind your form.

Cater is in there. It all makes sense now. Trey has to give it to him—Cater really does know every little happening in the school. But Trey knows him well too—and if he had to guess, even if Cater manages to talk to you, it won’t end pretty. His inability to be genuine will definitely only set you on edge and less likely to reciprocate.

The waiting game he plays is nothing compared to the silence he had to endure before. Trey doesn’t have to look to know that you’re the one slamming open the doors to the botanical gardens, labwear dirtied and face twisted in a frustrated anger. He watches as you enter Professor Crewel’s office again and after some time, pop back out in completely different clothes.

His chest tightens in longing as he continues to follow after (more from an instinctual drive now, rather than deliberate), trying to keep you in sight within the stone pillars. He wants to call out after you so badly and ask you what’s the matter, if you need help with anything. If there was anything he could do to make you forgive him for watching you bleed out on dewy grass. The sun is about to set, warm golden rays flickering between pillars and casting long shadows. Trey’s so enamored with following after you that he flinches back when the sun directly shines into his eyes, blinding him momentarily.

He barely manages to get a hold of himself. By the time his eyes blink away the blurry blots, he realizes you’re looking back at him. His breath stops. Your eyes are wide and frightened as they are that day, and his heart drops to his stomach. Both of you don’t move, merely staring at each other.

You finally break the connection, turning around and quickly walking away. Trey gasps, remembering to breathe, lungs screaming for air.

What was that?

x. Entombment

It's a nice sunny afternoon in the Heartslabyul domain. There weren't any track club activities nor dreaded remedial lessons. If anything, this free time would have been perfect for a nap. He hadn’t been up to any large shenanigans like this since the whole fiasco of [First] and Yuu.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Ace scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You got a better one, loosey Deucy? If we don’t do this now, then all of us are stuck until Housewarden grows a pair of balls.”

Deuce Spade bites his lips. “I just think there might be a better way around this.”

“Yeah? And the sky is blue. Keep going, we don't have much time." Ace cranes his neck to the side of the bush, eyes warily looking out to make sure the coast is clear.

Deuce grumbles but continues plucking, some roses already tucked within his arms. They chose a bush the furthest away from the dorm, in a hidden corner where no arched windows could overlook them. It was necessary, because today was Wednesday, and the Housewarden would have their heads for plucking his beloved roses out of all the flora.

His fingers are bleeding already, finger pads torn from repetitive tugging on the thorns and stems. They couldn’t afford taking any of the gardening tools, lest they be questioned for what they were doing with them. Still, even he had his limits.

“Why is it that you aren’t helping at all?” Deuce snipes at Ace, who scowls back.

“You want to be caught by someone, genius?” Ace replies snarkily. “Someone has to keep look out.”

“Doesn’t explain why I have to do all the work.”

Ace rolls his eyes, deigning not to bother engaging in another futile argument that would lead to nowhere. Deuce is about to cut off a particularly stubborn rose when Ace pipes up again.

“...Did they ever respond to your texts?” Deuce only deflates in response. Ace’s mouth slants crookedly in an annoyed grimace. The two of them know full well what the answer to that was.

“Damn that cat…” Ace mutters bitterly under his breath. Deuce doesn’t say anything. He too, is finding it hard to not feel petty towards Grim right now. Weren’t they friends? He could’ve afforded to help them out somehow. But it’s no use. Their texts went unanswered. Headmaster had banned them from stepping foot onto Ramshackle grounds. It’s like you had closed everything off from them.

It’s why he doesn’t protest this plan, as reckless as it is. He’s not any better than Ace—he needs to see you. He and Ace were your closest friends, your first friends! He loved you. That had to mean something. If it didn’t, then…

“I think this is enough.” Deuce adjusts the messy bouquet in his hands, attempting to hold them without crushing the delicate petals. Ace looks over and nods in approval. He takes out crimson ribbons and a silk handkerchief and begins tying it around the stems in a very artful way that has Deuce’s eyebrows raising.

“Where did you get that?” Ace smirks in response at the interrogative question.

“Don’t worry about it.” Ace snatches the bouquet from his hands and slips in an envelope with the housewarden’s seal. Deuce silences the questions on the tip of his tongue. For whatever Ace has planned, he’s rather not know anything more troublesome than necesscary.

What he failed to account for was getting caught. Housewarden Riddle was beyond furious for what they did. It was only by Trey and Cater's gentle reminders that what they did was for all of them, that he only calmed down.

Deuce supposes three days with the collar is better than a week. Even if it is a heavy thing that weighs on his very soul.

He only hopes that you don't notice the thorns they forgot to trim.

—

It’s a given that although Trey is the right hand of Heartslabyul, Cater is considered the left hand of Housewarden Riddle. It’s been that way since Deuce himself enrolled in NRC, and possibly even further back. He hadn’t understood it quite then, but after some time, he realized something that he should’ve realized a long time ago.

To never get on Cater’s bad side.

There are events where the five of them gather outside of Yuu’s influence. Administrative meetings, monthly tea parties, and the occasional casual hang out. When you’re aware of how much of your life is affected from being not like the others, it’s common to side with those who are like you.

Cater had called the meeting this time. It was a bit out of the blue, at least for him and Ace. It’s only when they’re all gathered around the playing table in the lounge, not another soul in sight, when Deuce realizes Cater has that gleam in his eye. One that screams that he got a viral lead on a hot topic. His upperclassman must have been investigating.

"Remember how mirrors are considered to be portals?"

Deuce's neck prickles.

"Your point, Cater?" Their housewarden is impatient, not aware of what the question poses. His arms are crossed with his eyebrows furrowed in a frustrated glare. Deuce realizes that he must have been the one to send out Cater.

"There's a mirror in the prefect's bedroom." Deuce blurts out, and Riddle’s steely eyes snap over in surprise. Cater nods in affirmation.

"Yeah. I only managed a glimpse, but Yuu covered their mirror." Cater says.

“Hold on, you went into the prefect’s bedroom? Scratch that, to Ramshackle?” Ace asks. “Why are we just getting this now?”

“Because I just came back Acey,” Cater flicks his forehead, causing Ace to exclaim in pain. Trey smiles faintly at the action. “Also Riddle told me to keep it confidential—you two would have ran straight out if we had told you.”

Deuce sheepishly rubs his neck at Cater’s pointed sentence. Riddle rubs his chin in thoughtfulness, eyebrows still furrowed.

“But there isn’t anything magical about that mirror, is there?” Riddle asks, skepticism coating his tone. “The puppet could have simply covered that mirror out of an odd preference.”

“Acey, didn’t you mention that Yuu always mentioned seeing things in that mirror?” Cater responds, deflecting the question upon his underclassmen. Ace straightens as he and Deuce both exchange a glance.

“Yeah…something about a mouse in their mirror,” Ace answers slowly, face scrunched in an effort to recall memories. “I always thought it was just crazy dreams but…”

“Yuu was always insisting about it,” Deuce chimes in. “Said the mouse speaks to them and everything—that there was another world it was in.”

Trey and Cater share a furtive glance together before looking at Riddle. Their housewarden seems to be taking in the new information, closing his eyes in thought. For a while, no one dares to speak.

“What do you think, Riddle?” Trey finally breaks the heavy silence, and Deuce breathlessly releases a sigh. Leave it to Trey to speak for all of them.

“If the mirror in the bedroom is magical, then that changes things.” Riddle pronounces with conviction. “If that mirror potentially holds a dimension, then that would be the perfect place to trap someone.”

“Cater.” The orange head straightens to attention at the stern command. “Find a way to get the puppet out of the dorm for a while. We’ll need to look into this ourselves.”

Cater smirks and a chill runs down Deuce’s spine. While Cater still has an easy going look, his jade green eyes have darkened with a sadistic gleam.

“Roger that, housewarden!” His upperclassman chirps, already taking out his phone.

Riddle is already barking orders that each of them are to take up within this mission of theirs. But Deuce nearly misses his task, eyes stuck on Cater’s face as he scrolls his phone.

He catches a glimpse of a photo before it’s quickly clicked away. Deuce snaps back to Riddle just in time for Cater to shoot him a wary glare, checking to make sure no one else was looking.

Deuce is very glad he is working together with Cater.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #my works #damn this is the most ive ever written.....insane

861 notes · View notes

chucky-vs-the-giant-tortoise · 4 months

Text

i’ve got you

JJ Maybank x sister!reader

summary: an anxious Y/N feels overwhelmed while partying with the pogues at the boneyard, and JJ does his best to calm her nerves.

warning(s): underaged drinking, panic attack

a/n: a big thank you to anyone who enjoyed my last maybank!sister snippet. i hope to write a lot more for JJ in the future, so feel free to leave any requests if you have any specific ideas of what you’d like to read!

also please let me know if i should make these shorter. lol. i'm never sure.

Y/N screwed her eyes shut, trying and failing to keep her hands from trembling as they dented her red solo cup. Her heart was beating so fast that her head could barely keep up, the loud music and sweaty bodies that enclosed her doing nothing to ease her mind.

It was a picturesque summer night out in the boneyard, which of course meant that the Pogues just had to have a kegger. Y/N had grown used to the routine by then, tagging along as they went out to buy the keg and an insane amount of plastic cups that Kie always complained she found littered all over the beach the morning after. Y/N typically helped in the prep for whatever wild evening lay ahead, and had even served as a DD the few times that the Pogues got plastered enough to willingly allow a 15-year-old to drive the Twinkie. However, despite her brother's constant pleading and nagging, she'd never actually attended one of their infamous beach parties.

At least, not until tonight.

Y/N had always been shy, the complete opposite of her elder brother and all of his wild impulsivity. She hated big crowds and loud noises, and even though she would occasionally drink one while out on the Pogue, she wasn't even the biggest fan of beer. But JJ had begged her to join them all day long, poking and prodding at her nerves in his attempts to finally get his baby sister out of her shell.

"Come on, Y/N. You really wanna spend the rest of your life cooped up in the chateau?" he'd said dramatically, throwing his hands up in desperation. "You really oughtta live a little sometime."

You really oughtta live a little sometime.

His words had haunted her well into the evening, and at the last minute she'd finally decided to bite the bullet. JJ was right, after all. While most kids her age were busy making memories and taking risks, she spent her evenings curled up with a book in her lap.

Sure, it wouldn't be the most comfortable experience, but what was the worst that could happen? After all, like her brother always said, stupid things had good outcomes all the time.

She made a mental note to correct JJ on that stupid motto as someone pushed past her, blowing chunks into the bushes only a few feet away from rigid form.

Y/N covered her nose, averting her gaze just in time to notice a familiar head of blond hair breaking through the mess of bodies whooping and grinding on one another.

"Holy shit!" JJ hollered wildly, dimples painfully visible in his state of drunken bliss. "Tom, that's some gnarly shit, man! Trust me, you're gonna feel that tomorrow." He gave the boy a pat on the back as he retched, though thankfully the steady stream of vomit had ended.

Y/N only stood and watched. It was clear that JJ hadn't seen her, but maybe that was for the best. The last thing she wanted was to ruin his night.

"Yo, Y/N/N!"

Too late.

JJ made his way over in sloppy strides, and Y/N turned up her nose at the stench of alcohol clinging to him. He pulled her into him with an arm slung over her shoulders.

"Hi, Jay." Y/N hoped her brother was drunk enough not to notice the tremble in her voice.

"Where'd you go, kid? I've been looking for you all night." He was leaning on her now, gleefully unaware as he slowly crushed her beneath his weight. Y/N groaned with the effort it took to keep her brother upright, struggling not to remind him that it was in fact he who left her to do some shots and never returned.

"Yeah I was . . . I was j-just--"

"Shit, I didn't know you were drinking. That's my girl," he slurred with a wink, pointing at the cup Y/N was damn near close to dropping. It was all getting too much for her—JJ's weight boring into her side, the overwhelming stench of beer, the screaming mouths and dancing bodies slowly closing her in. She felt like a caged animal, her lungs tight and chest heavy.

"Hey, you seen Pope yet? I lost him an hour ago—saw him walk off with some blonde chick with a tramp stamp. Oh, you need a top-up? You should go now, 'm pretty sure the keg's getting low."

JJ continued to ramble on as Y/N crumbled underneath him, her eyes searching desperately for somewhere to go.

"Aw man, I love this song!" Y/N gasped as JJ began jerking her around, forcing her to sway back and forth with him. "Yo, Kurt! Turn that shit up bro!"

Y/N felt blood rushing to her ears, her hands growing clammy as her nerves took over. You're fine, she told herself. You're fine, you're fine. But it wasn't working—she couldn't hear herself think over the music blaring from the speakers.

"Come on, loosen up Y/N! Let's dance!"

"No!" Y/N reached her breaking point, escaping from beneath her brother's outstretched arm. JJ stumbled, just barely managing to catch himself and get a good look at the fear etched into Y/N's features.

"What? Y/N—" He held out a hand that she cringed away from, breathing raggedly as she did.

"Just leave me alone!"

"Y/N!" JJ called after her as she ran off, not knowing exactly where she was headed but intent on getting away. She wound up crouching behind a small hill across from the bustling core of the party, far enough away that the music finally fell to an acceptable volume.

Y/N brought her knees to chest and buried her face in them, fingers tugging at her hair as tears spilled from her eyes. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could she be dumb enough to let JJ convince her that this would be a good idea? Y/N forced her breathing to slow as her chest tightened, coughing in her feeble attempts.

Y/N had listened to a few songs run their course by the time she managed to get a grip on herself, her breaths steadying as she counted eight-second inhales and eight-second exhales. Still Y/N rested her forehead against her knees, so dead-set on staying calm that she didn't notice the sound of JJ's footsteps in the sand.

"Hey." Y/N gasped, her head shooting upright as she scrambled to back away from whoever had found her. "Hey, calm down. It’s alright, Y/N." She sighed in relief when she recognized JJ's outline in the dark, her brother crouched before her shrunken form. "It's okay. Just me."

"Oh," she mumbled. "Sorry."

"'S okay. Didn't mean to scare you." He awkwardly held out another cup to her, which she observed warily. "Don't worry, it’s just water. Figured it might help more than beer."

Y/N smiled, accepting JJ's peace offering gratefully. "You'd be right about that." She greedily drank it all in one gulp, only then realizing how dry her mouth had gotten. "Thanks, Jay."

"Least I could do, since I forced you to come her." Y/N sighed, noticing the guilt swimming in her brother's blue eyes.

"You didn't force me."

"Well, I might as well have."

"it's not your fault, JJ." He rested a comforting hand on her knee.

"Sure it is. I knew you didn't like this kind of scene and I dragged you here anyway." He ran his free hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut as regret consumed his intoxicated mind.

"It's okay." Y/N shuffled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. JJ ruffled her hair. "Sorry I can't be a party animal like you."

"Ah, don't sweat it. Makes my job a lot easier, anyway." Y/N giggled, shoving him lightly, and JJ couldn't help but smile. "So, what's the plan? Want me to drive you home?"

Y/N scoffed. "I don't even think you could if you tried."

"Oh, Y/N," He teased her with a smile, "you severely underestimate my driving skills."

"And you severely overestimate my willingness to die." JJ chuckled at that. "Plus, who said I wanted to leave?"

"You’re gonna stay?'

"Yeah, why not? I mean, I've made myself a pretty comfy hideout over here." JJ pouted.

"I guess . . ." He looked down at his sister with a smirk. "Or you could try the party again."

Immediately Y/N felt that skin-crawling uncertainity take over once more. She bit at her bottom lip. "I don't . . . I dunno, Jay."

"Look, I promise I won't leave you this time. We can just sit around the campfire—maybe try to find Kie or something. What'd'ya think?" He held out a hand to her. "We'll take it slow."

Y/N considered this for a moment, eventually taking hold of her brother's hand. "Okay."

"Sweet!" JJ tried his best to stand, but only wound up falling back on his ass. "I'm gonna need some help getting up, though."

Y/N laughed, hoisting her brother to his feet with a grunt, and JJ smiled as she allowed her hand to linger in his while they walked. The very same way she did when they were little.

Just like JJ promised, he found the two of them a space to sit by the blazing campfire and never left Y/N's side.

・❥・

Hours had passed before the kegger had begun to die down, their beer long gone and speakers long dead. The rest of the Pogues had finally joined the Maybanks around the fire pit, and the group listened comfortably as Kie plucked at the strings of her ukulele. "Y'know what, Jay? I wouldn't mind trying this kegger thing again."

JJ smiled. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, I mean it." She snuggled closer to his chest, absorbing whatever extra heat his body offered. "As long as you're there to hold my hand."

#obx #outer banks #jj maybank #jj obx #jj outer banks #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x sister!reader #jj maybank x sister reader #sister!reader #maybank!reader #the outer banks #jj maybank drabble #jj maybank fluff #outer banks fluff

150 notes · View notes

qwimblenorrisstan · 1 month

Text

Surprise Pt. 3 | Soap x Reader

Summary: The boys get called out to a mission after you get injured during a game, and your past finally catches up to you.

Word Count: ~ 4k

Warnings: minor character death, guns, blood, injuries, lil bit of angst, ptsd, panic attacks, episodes, and yeah

A/N: alr I’m kinda making it up as I go, but I feel like I’m slowly getting better at making accented dialogue…hope you enjoy<3 (also thinking of making it gaz x reader x soap, or just johnny?? lmk what u think)

Requests are open!

Previous | Masterlist | Next

The longer they stayed in your home, still keeping eyes out for any of the terrorists in the area, the more they noticed some of your odd quirks.

Simon was the first to notice many of them, due to his years of experience in the military, and all of the skills he’d acquired during that time. He observed every little thing, whether it be on purpose or unconsciously.

Like how you always locked your door after entering or leaving, both locks as well. Not just one. Or the way your windows remained shut and locked, dark curtains pulled over most of them to block out any light or keep someone from looking in.

There was a knife under your pillow, and a small gun in the drawer of your nightstand. Simon would know, he’d searched the entire house when they’d first arrived, not sure if he could trust you or not. You had a gun safe in your room’s closet, and the screws on your room’s hinges were slightly unscrewed, as were every door in the house, so it would creak every so slightly when opened. So you could locate everyone in the house.

It reminded him of his habits a bit too much.

But you also had a kernel of authority to you, despite sometimes mumbling instead of speaking clearly, or the tiniest of nervous ticks he could notice, like how your lips would twitch left when unsure or insecure. Despite your stone-faced look now, you still had a few of the same tells that the little girl he’d known all those years ago did.

He only wondered what had happened to that little girl.

But he knew she’d grown up. And what he saw in you now wasn’t what he recalled from the girl he’d threatened in the past, the girl he’d intimidated and scared into staying away. Because now, you didn’t seem afraid of him at all. Not afraid of his comrades, either.

You were different in more than a few ways, now. He knew foster care had been rough on you, with god knows how many families taking you in only for money or being abusive. He barely knew the general timeline of how long you’d been in it. He’d heard tiny bits of it you’d offhandedly mentioned, and you seemed to have found a more permanent home at 12, staying until moving out here, looking for what most teenagers are, a meaning and some freedom.

But he hadn’t known just how rough it had been.

You’d gotten home from work looking beat one night, wearing some jeans, a uniform shirt, a belt, and per usual a holster for your gun. You always insisted on carrying it, and he didn’t blame you. Bad things happened to girls who lived alone here.

You didn’t even take any time to eat or change before walking into your room and collapsing into bed, asleep in a second. Work always seemed to tire you out, for whatever reason, but maybe they had you doing all kinds of shit he didn’t know waitresses did. Who was he to assume?

“She should eat dinner, at least.” Price said, watching from the couch as Johnny pouted slightly. He’d cooked a meal, especially for you, albeit Gaz had done most of the work and helped him out, basically making the entire dish, poor Soap had been waiting all day to try it.

“I can go get her?”

Kyle suggested, and Simon’s deep rumbling voice spoke up next, glancing over to your closed door, a neat “Do not enter.” sign on the front.

“She don’t like when people go in ‘er room.”

“Well, she’s breakin’ poor Soap’s heart.”

“She’s yer sister, why don’t you go get the lass.”

“She’d beat his ass, that’s why.”

Simon gave an exasperated sigh, getting up from where he’d been sitting next to Price, watching a soccer game. He approached your door, slowly opening it as it creaked. The lights were off, the room completely dark as the windows were also covered by the thick curtains you kept.

You’d made it clear that no one was allowed in your room before, but it looked normal to him. The walls were a shade of your favorite color, or what he assumed was, fairy lights with clips on them holding pictures of you and friends, and even a picture from years ago of the family, hanging from wall to wall. There was a desk at the front, papers thrown about and some neatly arranged. The clothes basket smelled vaguely of an irony tang he didn’t bother to investigate at the time.

A mirror hung on the other end of the door.

Walking quietly up to you, he watched you for a moment. Your body was deathly still, breathing quietly but a bit shaky. He could see your eyes moving beneath your eyelids, the movements erratic and frantic.

Despite himself, Simon found himself intrigued by the papers on your desk. Why had you bothered to keep them out of your room? What were you hiding? His military career kept him on his toes at all times and kept him suspicious of everyone.

After all, it was the people you trusted that could hurt you the most.

Walking silently over to your desk, he began going through papers. Gaz and Soap, now both watching through the doorway, made little hushed whispers of “Wha’ are you doing??” and “Jus’ wake ‘er up-“ that he ignored. The papers were all basic, nothing interesting.

Essays, research papers, lots of notes. But just when he thought he wouldn’t find anything, he slid open one drawer as it creaked slightly as well, finding files in it. Paper, Manila folders that were thick with information that he found himself curious about. However, just when he reached for the first one, he heard Johnny.

“Behind ye, Lt-“

The cold metal of a gun against the side of his head became more than apparent as someone kicked the backs of his knees in. A gun to his head, on his knees, with Gaz and Soap now in the room, hands up, carefully trying to approach him.

“Easy, lass. We ain’t gonna hurt ya..”

Johnny tried, and that was when Simon realized it wasn’t some enemy terrorist who had gotten in who was holding him at gunpoint, no, it was you. He hadn’t even heard you approach. Hadn’t heard you get out of bed or move at all.

But he did hear the hammer of the gun click back.

The first thought he had was that he was being betrayed. Double-crossed. Either that or you were having some sort of episode. Price approached the door, watching you like a wounded animal. Unlike Simon, he could see the way your eyes weren’t there, that you were somewhere else, in an entirely different world, doing what you thought was right.

Price slowly approached, bolder than both of the Sergeants, but with a practiced precision. He’d done this before. They could tell.

“Can you tell me who you’re pointin’ a gun at?”

He asked, voice unwavering and not full of pity, but instead understanding. He watched your eyes slowly trail from the gun to Simon, now completely still, and held a hand for Gaz and Soap to stay where they were. He could tell when the realization slowly began dawning on you, that you weren’t in danger, and that this was Simon.

A tiny click, the safety being switched on, before you took the gun from Simon’s head and set it on the floor, kicking it away from you to Price. Usually, you wouldn’t sleep with a gun on your person for this reason. By the time you would open the nightstand to grab it, you’d usually have already snapped out of it.

Sighing deeply, you slumped on the floor beside Simon as he slowly relaxed, and you curled up into a ball. You didn’t say anything, and neither did they. Price took the gun, standing and walking out of the room, giving a nod to Gaz and jerking his head to Soap as the Captain and Johnny left the room.

Kyle remained nearby, just in case, but didn’t say anything.

“Didn’ know you had it in ya to hold a gun to my head,” Simon said, trying for a bit of humor to make you laugh, or even hear a snort in reply, or even a snarky comment about how stupid he was. When you didn’t do anything, he silently sighed.

“How often do you have ‘em?”

“Every night.”

He made a small grunt at that. He could understand nightmares a bit too well, considering the demons of his own he had. He put an arm slowly around you, and when you didn’t stiffen, he considered it okay as he slowly stood, picking you up. However, as soon as he picked you up, you mumbled something under your breath and squirmed free, standing on your own.

“Let’s get ya some fresh air.”

He said, leading you out of the room. He took one last glance at the open file drawer and decided that you had your secrets, and he had his, and it could stay like that until either of you was ready to change it.

Nothing had changed since that night, other than one thing.

No one tried to wake you up again.

However, you remained as sassy and slightly stoic as usual, still caring for them, and now savoring every one of Johnny’s dinners to make up for the one you’d missed that night.

When they showed up covered in blood, sweat, and tears, you would take it in stride, patching them up and grumbling about buying more medical supplies, washing their clothes, and buying razors for them because, “A beard does not suit any of you but Price.” You’d even bought food they liked, albeit making them cough up some money for it, because of the job you had at some little restaurant they’d never heard of before as a waitress. You only really worked the job on some weekends, when you weren’t on a big absence for traveling during volleyball season, or at camps.

Your manager-landlord was surprisingly lenient about it, Simon thought. But considering all the weapons you had, he wouldn’t be surprised if a little threat went a long way.

He’d always wondered what you did at those volleyball games, anyway. That was until Price spoke up about it at breakfast one morning when you hadn’t left early for practice, and Laswell had eventually just informed them to lie low until further orders came.

“You oughtta come out wit’ us, get out the house a lil’.”

Johnny had suggested, and Gaz had given a little affirming nod. Simon remained silent, quietly watching as you shook your head.

“Can’t, got games today.”

You replied without even glancing up at them, eyes on your plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. That was the usual. You always had games, training, work, or school. With a schedule as busy as that, none of them knew how you managed it, but it left little to no time for you to simply relax or hang out with them.

Johnny grumbled about something with his mouth full of eggs when Price spoke up.

“Why don’ we go watch, eh? You been havin’ me help wit’ the plans, might as well.” He suggested before taking a big bite of bacon. You paused at that, glancing up at Price, studying him, before swallowing the food in your mouth.

“I’ll think about it.” Was the only answer they’d gotten at the time, but around thirty minutes before the game, you’d texted Simon the address, which was enough of a sign for him to get the boys and head over to your school, walking in the gym and paying for their entry. Six dollars for an adult, players were free.

To be fair, they tried their hardest to dress in civilian clothes and act normal, but it was hard when their instincts screamed to check every corner, keep eyes on the windows and doors, and scan for possible entries and exits.

You and your team were already practicing by then, setting up a hitting line, one setter in the front middle, two lines of hitters taking turns, and two passers in the back row bumping the ball to the setter, who promptly set it, and the hitter smacked it over.

Many of the girls were tall, and while you weren’t too short, standing at around 5’7 now, you weren’t the tallest either. That might’ve been the reason that you were mainly a back-row passer, also taking into consideration the control you held over your hits and body as well. The other team got full court to practice before the game for 2 minutes, which must’ve been the usual around this area.

“They bette’ win this,” Gaz murmured, seated to the left of Price, who watched as another girl on the team whispered something in your ear that had you biting your lip to hold back a smile. You were close with these people, they could all tell that.

“Our lass’ got it, I’m sure.”

Johnny said, watching the other team practice while Simon did the same. Simon’s attention was then diverted back to you, as any hint of laughter or amusement faded from your expression, into the stone wall he’d come to know. With a notebook in hand, you went over something with the rest of the team as they all huddled, the coach nearby and nodding along with it as they pointed something out with a pencil in hand.

A few adjustments must’ve been made before a game of rock-paper-scissors was played between the two coaches to decide who got first serve. The other team did. Already off to a disadvantage, he thought.

You all took up your positions in the court, Simon not recognizing anyone but you, with your hair, braided tightly back by one of your teammates, and the bright red jersey everyone on your team wore. You were number 14. He vaguely remembered Johnny mentioning something about you wearing a jersey in the number 14.

You were in the top right position, tucking any stray pieces of hair that had gotten loose somehow behind your ears, before all of your team was in position. The serve was hit over by the other team, and a brunette in the back row passed it to the setter, who made the ball go in a perfect arch in your direction. You began the approach of the ball, jumping up, arm held back, and ready to spike it. The blockers for the other team jumped, ready to deflect any ball, but right when you were going to spike it, your left non-hitting hand tipped the ball over the net.

Right between the blockers.

“Cleva girl,” Gaz said with a small smirk, and Soap lowly whistled. You didn’t glance up at them, expression remaining still despite the clever move.

It hit the floor, and a whistle sounded. Your team’s point. A rotation was done, and you were serving. They watched you toss the ball up, approach, jump, and smack it down all in less than 15 seconds before you were back in your spot, ready for the ball to be returned.

“Bloody hell..” Simon said, watching the two teams volley. He didn’t know many of the rules of volleyball, only Price knew most of them because of some of your late-night conversations on strategies to use with your team, but he was pretty damn sure you were doing good.

Your team moved in fluidity with each other, and it made Simon wonder what the hell you’d been putting these girls through in those training sessions, and what your coach had been doing. It reminded him a little of his team, his Task Force. The way you all knew each other, how high a set had to be for one specific person, the way one girl would slightly skew her bumps to the left, and the setter would move accordingly, or how to interweave without bumping into one another.

And the way you held everyone together… reminded him of Price the most.

When someone messed up, you didn’t yell or look disappointed, you simply glanced at them, acknowledged them, and gave a small nod. The same when someone pulled something off well. When you won the first set, you didn’t let your team gloat in the victory for too long.

And when you were losing the second set? Your teammates got a bit skittish, sure, but the way you remained almost totally unaffected kept them together. You were the glue of the team, keeping everyone out of their heads and in the game.

The second set was lost, but the third set remained.

“They play the last one to fifteen’.”

Price informed the boys after they’d sat up a little more, on the edge of their seats, bodies taught with stress. Kyle could’ve sworn Johnny was sweating a bit.

It went over fifteen, as you had to win by two points, and it was currently 15-16. One more point and the opposing team would win. But three more points and your team would.

Price’s phone began ringing.

A harsh serve from the opposite team and the bump was skewed by an anxious redhead in the back row. It went too far to the side, and you were running for it, but it looked too far away.

Two steps away.

Price was talking quietly to whoever was calling, his work voice on. Simon was too focused on you to care about the phone.

You weren’t close enough.

One knee went down closer to the ground, and your remaining foot kicked off the ground as your body dove for it.

A grim tone from the Captain as he nodded to whatever question Gaz had asked, while he ended the call.

Only a foot away.

Your hand flattened against the ground just as the ball bounced off of it, your head smacking hard against the floor.

Price muttered something to Soap, who tried nudging Simon, but didn’t get his attention, his eyes on you.

Your team played the ball off of the save, and the opposing team lost the point. The whistle was blown while the game was 16-16, mainly because you weren’t getting up. Out cold.

Simon shot to his feet, already, heading in your direction. There was red spreading on the floor, and he was back in his family home, looking down at his mother’s crumpled body, flashes of his little nephew’s bloodied corpse, and his brother’s shredded body coming into view.

He wasn’t there fast enough, he couldn’t get to you fast enough. He had failed.

Before he could go down even a single step, Price’s hand came down onto his shoulder firmly, holding him back. Grounding him. As he turned to face the Captain, Price spoke.

“It’s Laswell. Urgent, they need us.” He spoke quietly, and Ghost could only look on as they picked up your unconscious form from the floor, a part of your blond hair dyed red with the liquid oozing from it, and carried you away.

“She’ll be alright, Lt. Let’s go,” Soap said, grabbing Simon’s hand and pulling him along like a lost puppy. Gaz and Price were talking about something in front of them as they walked out.

The moment they got to the car, Price pulled their uniforms out of the trunk.

“Jus’ in case,”

He said, tossing them to each respective man, and Price drove while the rest of them changed in the car. The moment Simon slipped his mask on, he willed himself to forget about anything regarding you.

The job came first.

Your head was swimming and fuzzy. Your limbs refused to cooperate properly.

You recognized your bed, the dark curtains on the windows, and the smell of your room, covered in the perfume you always wore. Your vision was blurry, too blurry to simply be from sleeping.

Swallowing, you tried to sit up, only to find your throat dryer than a desert and your limbs shaky and weak. You made a small grunt when you tumbled from the bed to the floor, vision blurring more before going slightly back to normal. As normal as it could be right now.

You heard a small female gasp and your bedroom door opened with a creak. One of your closest friends from the volleyball team, Nalani, walked in, immediately going to your side.

Her brown, bronze skin reminded you of Gaz, and her long, dark intricate braids you’d always been amazed by hung in a ponytail behind her. Sure, you two might’ve fooled around a bit a few months back, but that was behind you. Behind both of you. She was a friend, just a friend, even if friends didn’t usually share beds and know how each other tasted.

But you trusted her more than most, that was for sure.

She’d seen your scars, heard what you could tell her without endangering her life, and she hadn’t backed away. She’d embraced it with you. Even on your worst days.

“You just busted your head open, you need to stay in bed.”

She mumbled, putting you back into the bed after lifting you. She’d changed you into your favorite pair of shorts and a loose T-shirt. It was only when she began going on and on about how stubborn you were, that you noticed a blur of movement in the doorway.

You’d seen Simon’s friends leave earlier. Assumed they’d been on a mission again.

You began pushing against Nalani, and she looked confused.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Your throat was too dry and cracked. You rasped to get something out as a gun poked around the corner. A silencer on it.

“Down, get-“

You tried pushing her down, the other hand reaching for the gun in your nightstand, fingers fumbling to find it. You were too late.

A near silent shot, and there was a hole in the back of her head that you couldn’t see but knew was there. She crumpled to the ground as you tried again to grab your pistol from the nightstand drawer, only to realize that Price had never returned it after that night.

Cursing under your breath, you grabbed the knife from under your pillow, a hunting knife, and threw it, watching as it embedded itself into the man peeking around the corner’s neck.

One down.

More came, though. Too many. Your vision blurred as you heard male voices talking, a shot down by your legs, but not quite hitting.

They were trying to disable you.

Your head was throbbing, adrenaline making you forget grief in the moment. Pain exploded through your veins as you felt a bullet whiz past you, nicking your right arm. Three men stormed the room, clearing it, before one of them came into sight, kneeling to be eye level with you.

“Thought we wouldn’t find you, yes? The Wasp’s Nest is not as secure as you thought. We’ll get our retribution.”

He spoke mockingly to you, before shoving a white bag over your head. Other voices filled the room, quiet, but loud enough for your dwindling consciousness to catch.

“…useful?”

“It’ll work……able to….again.”

“…knock her..”

“Roger that..”

You felt the blunt force of the back of a gun being slammed against your head, and your vision went black.

If you’d told the truth, then maybe none of this wouldn’t have happened.

But in the end.

The job came first.

Tags:

@yearninglustfully

@kazuyatokue

@kiwibao

@kurokitty6

@sharkluver

@100percentlazybonez

#writers on tumblr #cod mwii #ghost cod #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod #cod fanfic #cod fandom #john price #john soap mactavish #captain price #kyle gaz garrick #gaz #simon ghost riley #soap x reader #soap call of duty

95 notes · View notes

renren-006 · 6 months

Text

Sunshine Optimist | Daryl Dixion x fem reader

plot: you were sunshine and he was scared of getting burned.

word count: 1305

a/n: heyyyy here is another daryl story hope you enjoy!

Daryl was always jealous of your optimism, the way you constantly thought things would get better or that the world wasn't as screwed up as it seemed.

Every time the group had a bump in the road, you were there, telling everyone that things would turn around; most of the time, you were right, and when you were wrong, Daryl was the only one to remind you of it. You liked him and never let his words hurt you too much, not when you knew he was just hurting. Daryl didn't let many people in, including you, but when he did, you knew it was because of your optimism that he did.

You were like sunshine in his eyes, and he was afraid of getting burned.

You thought he was like the night sky, dark, but with a few shining stars, the dark wasn't that intimidating.

The prison was the first shining star in Daryl's world. He hated that he believed your optimism then and loved that you were right. He grumbled about it to Carol so often that the woman would just laugh and shoo him away to go figure out his feelings. Daryl knew he liked you, you made his world light up, and he also knew he could never tell you. He did the only thing he knew how to do when he had feelings: push them and you away so he wouldn't have to worry about it.

That only made things worse for him.

You knew he pushed you away, you could feel it and see that whatever he was feeling scared the shit out of him. Rick even tried to comfort you about it.

“He's scared,” Rick said as he walked up beside you. You were standing on the gravel road watching him ride off on his motorcycle after another failed conversation with the man. Rick put a hand on your shoulder. “He's…not good with his feelings”

“I know. Just wish he would talk to me.” You told the older man. “I like him but sometimes it hurts too.”

“Sometimes love hurts”

“That's not helping this situation Rick” you told him sarcastically.

“I know. I'm sorry. Daryl…he's like a deer, startle him and he’ll run”

“That's probably the best way to describe him,” you said laughing. Rick smiled, patted your soldier, and walked back to helping the others with walker controle.

Daryl kept burying his feelings for you, deep, deep down. He felt his skin burn when he was near you, so he never put himself in that situation. That never worked because you would seek him out more than he wanted you to. It took 6 months of being in the Prison before something happened that forced him to feel what he was trying not to.

You joined Daryl, Michonne, and a few of the new people at the Prison on the run. You rode with Michonne in the pickup truck while the others tagged behind. Daryl rode beside the truck, failing at not watching you in the passenger seat. You knew he was watching, knew you wanted to be on that motorcycle with him, but knew you needed to let him come to you.

Once you arrived at the store a few miles from the prison and looked to have not been raided, you all made your way inside. The building was dark and muggy, and it sounded like a few employees didn't make it. You took care of the ones on your side of the store. Daryl closes behind, keeping an eye out. You glanced around before motioning to Daryl to hand you one of the bags to start filling. You got about halfway down the aisle when a Walker jumped you out of nowhere. He didn't bite you, but shit, he scared you.

“Fuck” you cursed as the walked pushed you back twords the wall, making you knife fummble out of your handsat the supprise. Daryl jumped into action shoving the walker off you and killing it before it could get a taste of skin. Daryl jumped back over to you looking over every inch of skin.

“He didn't get me. He didn't get me. Im fine” you told him, repeating the phrase over and over till he looked you in the eyes. “Daryl, im fine”

“You ain’t comin’ out ‘ere again” he said seriously, “No more runs”

“You can't bench me Daryl” you told him turning from fright to anger.

“Hell I can” he said back.

“No. I'm not yours, Daryl. You have made that very clear. You can't come back and act like you care,” you said angrily, letting all those pent-up months of feeling like nothing to Daryl out. He stared at you blankly, realizing how horrible he must have made you feel, always shoving you away.

“I….” Daryl started, wanting to scream at himself for what he had done.

“No. Im done” you told him pushing the man off you, “i'm going over there, stay the hell away Daryl”

Daryl stared blankly at where your body had previously been before you walked off, grabbed your knife, and continued on to the next row, far away from him. For the rest of that run, you stayed away, walking to another aisle whenever he tried to keep close. Michonne picked up on the energy shift between you, too, without having to say anything.

“If she doesn't want you around Daryl, it's because you pushed her so far to do so” she told him.he nodded back, knowing it was his fault and that he caused it. “You have to fix it. No more shoving her away”

“I know”

“Good. Now get back to work, we leave in thirty” Michone said.

That night Daryl found you at your guard tower sitting outside watching the stars. He knocked on the window on the corner wall by you. Glancing over you raised it was him, you rolled your eyes.

“I thought i said to stay the hell away Daryl” you said, a bit of venom dripped in your voice. Something Daryl had never heard from you.

“I know, Im sorry”

“Sorry isn't going to cut it” You told him, “For months you have pushed me away, made me feel worthless to you and I pushed through but you have no right…”

“I know,” he said, cutting you off. “I was afraid of getting’ hurt y/n”

“Hurt?”

“yer sunshine and I'm…”

“A starry night,” you told him. Holding his gaze. “You're like the stars in the night sky, bright enough to make the darkness not so scary. I always thought you were, but then you changed.”

“I…I couldn't stand yer optimism” he said, “ya made me feel…”

“Made you feel what”

“Like my heart was gonna explode” he said, crouching down by you, “yur makin me feel optimistic about the world”

“I like having that effect on people” you told him, “I like having an affect on you”

“Ya do” he said, “Ya make me feel happy like I haven't been in a while”

“Good” you said and pulled him down to you, crashing your lips onto his. You pulled away from him, “Tell me your sorry again”

“I'm sorry Y/N” he said, the husky voice of the redneck sent shivers down your spine.

“And that you won't ever push me away like you did”

“I promise,” he said, smiling at the way you were making him tell you what you already knew was true. You pulled the man back and kissed him deeply. He pulled you closer to him, picked you up, and carried you into your tower. The sounds and moans that escaped your guard tower that night were heard across the starry sky, which seemed to smile down towards the Prison.

#daryl dixion #twd daryl #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x female reader

207 notes · View notes

smoft-demons · 7 months

Text

MC gets turned into a tiefling

I have had an idea!! Imagine,, MC gets into some magic bs, touches a cursed book Satan left lying around or trips over Solomon mid-experiment or some shit, and gets turned (temporarily) into a D&D tiefling. (Not using strict D&D rules, this is mostly just vibes. This setting doesn’t super work with D&D, as we all probably know)

You’ve got horns and a tail! Your teeth are sharper, your pupils are slit like Levi’s, you’ve got some sharpened senses and boosted magic and fire resistance. Maybe you even automatically know infernal now.

All that’s very cool, but it wouldn’t take long for the dumb baby tief shit to start happening. You’re a human, you’re not used to being shaped like this!

I’m imagining Lucifer, going just a bit broody over their human. Lucifer’s hand shooting out to catch your horn before it slams into a door frame. Lucifer sighing exasperatedly, suppressing laughter with all his willpower as you get tangled up in fabric as you try to put a hoodie on, because you’re not used to making normal clothes work properly with horns. He’d help you sort it out. He’d fuss over you like the mother hen he’d never admit he is.

Then Mammon, outright laughing at you when you step on your own tail or close a door on it—laughing at you, but still not hesitating for a moment to help. Tending to your injuries, checking you over and reassuring you without missing a beat. Being the very good (and a bit annoying) big brother that he is. He’s had lots of practise at this—5 little brothers worth of practice. Your tail lashing in agitation if Mammon doesn’t quit making fun of you, and Mammon softening, because that’s such baby Satan behaviour and he can’t help but melt about it.

Your body language mirroring Levi’s even more than before, and Levi sometimes having to turn around and stuff his fist into his mouth so he doesn’t scream about how endearing that is. Levi, adjusting the way your headphones sit on your head to accommodate for the new horns. You and Levi watching an anime together, both your pupils blown wide open in excitement. Your tails are swooshing happily in sync. (Beel was coming to collect you two for a snack run, but he just HAS to film this)

Beel, giving you satisfying stuff to bite, listening patiently as you screw up speaking in a new way, because your teeth are suddenly longer and sharper. He’d be reassuring and non-judgemental about that learning curve. About all the times you’d inevitably end up cutting your own lip or tongue on those new sharp teeth, too. It’s mildly embarrassing, but he would remain chill. He’s nice like that.

Asmo would help you maintain your new horns. He’d have all the products needed to keep them as pretty as possible. He’d want to take over styling your hair (because you can’t do it the same as usual now! There are horns in the way!) at first, out of both novelty and caring for you, and then he’d teach you how to do it yourself. He’ll still wanna do it for you sometimes though. You know Asmo, he can’t resist spoiling his MC. He’d be one to fuss over minor injuries… but he’d ALSO be one to want to test your new (slightly) increased resilience with products that were just a little too strong for you as a human. Like, a face mask with fire salamander ingredients that WOULD burn a human’s skin, but not a demon’s. Someone would have to step in to remind him that there still might be risk. Tiefling =/= high demon lord!

I imagine Asmo probably gossips with Mammon and Satan in infernal, about whoever they don’t like from RAD or wherever. I imagine the twins probably use infernal together too, just for minor references and things that are not worth the time to explain to you. I imagine they’d all be in the habit of using it for things they don’t want you to hear, like if they’re planing to surprise you. Imagine the surprise for all of them when they comment among themselves in infernal and suddenly their human (who is shaped like a tiefling) replies!

Satan would, upon learning that you know infernal now, make you read every untranslated story he has that he thinks you’d like. He’d get excited about experimenting with your boosted magic. He’d understand when you lose control, like if you hurt yourself while cooking and then instinctively react with hellish rebuke, setting the whole stove on fire by accident. He gets it! Imagine you and him doing the synchronized tail swoosh too.

Belphie would put pool noodles on your horns like a baby goat so they don’t accidentally stab him. Again. Belphie would tangle his tail up with yours, maybe to be annoying, maybe to be affectionate. Who knows with him tbh, it’s probably both. Belphie would be one to make fun of you for getting stuff tangled up in your horns, or stepping on your own tail, dumb baby tief stuff like that. He’s used to being the weakest, babiest demon in that house! But, since it’s you, he’d probably find some enjoyment in getting to baby (and make fun of) a younger, smaller demon (or rather, human newly shaped like a demon) in the family. Just because it’s you, I imagine he’d enjoy taking the role of older sibling for once. Just because it’s you.

(Should I make a proper headcanons/oneshot post about this?)

283 notes · View notes

pinkgy · 7 months

Note

okay, ignore the previous ask, i can't be more blind and stupid (💀).

so, if it isn't a bother, may you write some headcanons about the kings (satan, mammon, beelzebub and leviathan) with a reader who's slightly chubby and dislikes their (reader's) body.

thanks in advance, dear.

–☕ (wishing to end myself after this one.)

Hi ! Thank you so much for your request and congratulations for being the first request that is not about sex lol I needed a break.

Here it is! I loved writing this request and I hope you like it ♡

It's a bit OOC in some parts (Leviathan), but in my defense, it's not easy to write fluff about them.

Also, I'm sorry if I didn't focus much on the body type part, I'm not a great fan of specifying the reader's body type, race, and sometimes even height, but it's okay! I tried my best.

Also, this is my contribution to the soft and sweet Mammon HC.

𝗪𝗛𝗕

𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦

"𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘𝗟𝗙 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 𝗜 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨"

♡

𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗡

✮ He’s in denial, Satan has you on a pedestal and he genuinely cannot believe that you think this way about yourself, simply because it’s a completely different opinion than the one he has of you.

✮ If you dare to mention any discomfort with your appearance in front of him, he will laugh in your face telling you to stop joking about such things, and when you look at him completely serious he might realize that he was wrong.

✮ Satan genuinely doesn't have any specific body preference, in his eyes you’re perfect, all he cares about is that you’re healthy both physically and mentally.

✮ Once he fully realizes, you won't EVER hear him joking about it, and if someone else dared to they’re dead within seconds. The same goes for you "jokingly" mistreating yourself, that's the biggest offense for him and the lecture your life awaits you.

✮ This situation would become a priority for satan, he's capable of leaving aside all his work just to do the impossible to make you feel better about yourself.

✮ He gets very frustrated every time you talk negatively about yourself, and he feels sad every time he notices that you feel insecure about your body, Satan somehow puts himself in your shoes, and that makes him take everything too seriously.

“Stop looking at yourself like that, I know what you're thinking and I don't like it” He hugs you from behind "Let's talk, you're too pretty to be thinking those things"

𝗕𝗘𝗘𝗟𝗭𝗘𝗕𝗨𝗕

✮ He might believe that you’re joking if you tell him, and he also might jokingly tell you something like “Yeah, I don’t like your body either” Clearly no offense intended, he would genuinely think that you’re not being serious.

✮ Beelzebub won’t realize that his “Harmless comment” made you feel bad unless someone else tells him that he screwed up, probably many days later he will approach you and actually apologize.

✮ Don’t expect any elaborate apologies from him, he will tell you what is necessary. But after he has taken a long time trying to remember everything you said to him that day, he will subtly start looking for ways to make you feel better about yourself.

✮ Believe me, Beelzebub is going to make sure you hear every chance he gets about how perfect you are, and in case he forgets to tell you, Bael is under strict orders to remind him.

✮ He’s really supportive but he sucks at showing it, his main goal is to distract you from your insecurity by at the same time trying to not distract himself, and somehow, it works.

"And who said that being yourself is not okay? As long as that beautiful body of yours is well-fed and healthy, you are the hottest person out there"

𝗠𝗔𝗠𝗠𝗢𝗡

✮ He would get offended, but like, really offended, the moment he notices or when you tell him about it he acts like those Latina grandmas when their grandchild tells them they're gay,

literally him.

✮ He's never seen anyone more ethereal than you, how do you even dare to dislike yourself?

✮ He genuinely doesn’t care about your body type, your weight, etc, as long as you’re healthy he’s going to love every part of you.

✮ He’s an amazing listener, Mammon will encourage you to vent to him while he slowly caresses your hair, and every time you say something he’s not okay with, he kisses your forehead.

✮ He wouldn't think you're joking, the opposite, Mammon would take this really seriously, but like, too seriously, to the point where you’re not getting out of Tartaros without loving your body as much as he loves it, and believe me, that’s a lot.

“How can you hate such a beautiful body like yours? Every inch of you is perfect and just looking at you feels like a privilege, so don't overthink too much please”

𝗟𝗘𝗩𝗜𝗔𝗧��𝗔𝗡

✮ Leviathan will genuinely get mad at you, if he finds out, he will ignore you, and if you tell him, he will leave and ignore you too, but it’s temporary, he will get over it in a few days.

✮ He kind of sucks at comforting people, but he can and will try his best with you, just don’t expect much from him, and know that he’s genuine about it.

✮ He will make an annoyed face every time you comment something negative about yourself, and trust me, you will notice.

✮ Leviathan has a very good memory, and he’ll make a mental note of every part of your body that you mention that you don’t like, and every chance he gets he will make sure to kiss or caress that part. He won’t be very obvious, but somehow, he will find a way to discreetly improve your opinion of yourself.

✮ He would hang anyone who dared to make jokes about your body, and would also hang anyone who complimented you, only he has the right to do that.

✮ And on those days when you feel particularly bad about your body, Leviathan will be sure to find a way to distract you with something else, he’s very observant so he wouldn’t need to listen to you to know how you feel, he’ll just suddenly leave his work for a few hours and take you to one of your favorite places, even if he hates the place, he hates more that you have a bad opinion of yourself.

“Get those thoughts out of your head, people should be jealous of how you look, okay? Don't be ridiculous”

#prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#what in “hell” is bad?#whb #whb satan #whb beelzebub #what in hell is bad x reader #whb mammon #whb leviathan #whb leviathan x reader #whb satan x reader #whb mammon x reader #whb beelzebub x reader

215 notes · View notes

myunghology · 1 month

Text

can you see me, using everything to hold back?

summary — watching silly little romance animes with natsume, as he unexpectedly points out that you guys act like silly romcom anime main characters.

pairings — natsume sakasaki x gender neutral reader.

tw — NONE...??? i think ooc natsu a bit, established relationship also this is really short. i only promised a small fic ok 🙁

a/n — @lunavixia hey. (threat)

"It's almost 2am in the morning, I genuinely start to wonder how you got me to watch fruits basket with you." Natsume deadpans at you, looking up at your sitting figure while your attention was most definitely glued to the tv screen.

You crane your head down to face him, a slight pout on your lips. "I'm wondering that, too.." He sighs, before you move slightly sideways on the couch so you're aligned with him, as he was sitting on the floor right under you.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth, clicking his tongue playfully. "Come on, I know what you're trying to do. Quickly," He pats his shoulder as you let out a small laugh.

You roll your eyes playfully, before placing your legs on his shoulder as he let's out a sigh of relief, when you run your fingers through his hair afterwards.

The male's head pulls back by it's own instinct, making eye contact with you for a second, before he closes his eyes in bliss and smiles, before he opens his eyes once more.

"You remind me of Tohru.. A bit." Natsume whispers, as you tilt your head in confusion, before pausing the anime playing on your tv, and then looking back down at him. "Why?"

He hums. "It just comes naturally. Don't you realize? You're like.. A sweetheart when it comes to things like these. And you somehow never get mad at me when I'm acting like an ass. And lastly.. You're pretty just like her."

You pause, processing his words for a second, before smiling softly. "Are we already in this part of our relationship where in you actually speak your mind for once?" You tease.

"I remember.. When you used to hate me for like.. What? I don't even know what reason you had." He groans as you bring up what happened before you even started dating, letting out a sigh.

"I'm pretty sure I hated you because.. I thought you were wayyy too nice for your being. Maybe in a way that I was jealous." He hums, while you let out a laugh.

"Jealous of what? Me being nice?"

He shakes his head. "Nope. Being mean is absolutely free. I was jealous of people you were being nice to, I guess? If that's how you would word it."

Now it's your turn to hum in amusement, before leaning back onto the couch— earning a small whine from Natsume.

"Stop that, I wanna see your face. What's the point of me looking up if I can't see it?" He snarks, before grabbing one of your hands to pull you back to sit up again.

"You could look up at the ceiling for a change," You humble him, saying it as if it was a lesson he needed to learn: as he shakes his head in response.

"The ceiling isn't as pretty as you are. It's so plain.." He says matter-of-factly, before you brush his bangs out of the way with your fingers, making another smile creep up to his lips.

"You're a bit like a cat." You mutter.

He let's out a small laugh, "Are you referencing me to Kyo.. Or?" You shake your head, "No! You just act like one generally." You quickly defend, continuing right after.

"You look like one too. Specifically.. Maybe a Siamese cat? Your eyes remind me of them sometimes."

You mutter, tilting your head slightly to look at him better. "Actually.. Screw that. You look like your cats." A playful scoff comes out of your boyfriends lips as you say that.

"They are my children at this point, no?"

"Our children. But I guess you have a point.."

a/n — i can't read u, but if u want, the pleasures all mine.

#jian’s works!#ensemble stars x reader #enstars x reader #ensemble stars #enstars #natsume sakasaki #sakasaki natsume #natsume sakasaki x reader #enstars x you #enstars x y/n

61 notes · View notes

weird-an · 1 year

Text

Billy knows his dad doesn't act like a dad.

Has known from the first moment when Neil's hand slipped for the first time. Gets reminded everyday, when he's a girl, a loser, a faggot and never a son.

He thought it was just words and bruises that made it bad. He should actually be lucky to even have a dad at all. Where would he be without Neil?

Steve's eyes, wide and horrified, tell him something else. It makes Billy uncomfortable, in a way the school nurse back in California did, when she asked him if he's got a safe place to go to and he didn't have an answer, because he was nine and scared.

"What?" Steve says. His voice got an edge like he's choking up and tries not to.

"It's no biggie." Billy's got the sinking feeling he has screwed everything up, like when he told the nurse that he sometimes hides in his closet or under the kitchen sink until Neil falls asleep.

"You just told me you didn't get dinner for two nights in a row." Steve rubs his nose and Billy sees tears in his eyes. That can't be worth anybody's tears, can it? "And that you slept in your car."

"I just wanted to get out of his hair." Billy rolls his eyes. It's better to avoid Neil's moods. He's glad he's got the Camaro. It's a fucking privilege. Maybe rich guys like Steve don't get that.

"Yeah?" Steve squints his eyes. "What did he say?"

"Get out," Billy repeats. Cuts himself off before he can add the "fucking pussy" Neil screamed. Maybe it wasn't even that. Neil screams a lot, way too much that Billy can remember it all - and Steve's upset enough.

Somehow it feels like it's all Billy's fault. He shouldn't have mentioned that he's fucking hungry and relieved that he got his paycheck today.

Steve sucks in a deep breath. Leans forward and Billy digs his fingers in his palms, trying not to flinch. It's a reflex. Whenever someone is angry, he's all tense, like he's about to be stretched apart any second.

Steve presses a kiss on Billy's cheek.

"You can always come here," he says. "Always."

It's a lie, something inside Billy whispers. He'll get tired of you. Even your mother did leave you.

"I'll give you the spare key," Steve promises. "You don't have to sleep outside."

"Why would you do that?" Billy asks, brows furrowed. If Steve isn't home, they can't have sex and that's all Billy is probably good for.

"I want you safe, baby." Steve flushes. "Billy, I mean."

He rubs his neck. "I'll make us dinner, okay?"

Every word feels like hug. Billy's chest grows warm. "Okay."

Maybe he will have a place to go to after all.

#i want that guy safe #steve calling billy pet names in his mind and having no filter #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #harringrove ficlet #steve x billy #tw child abuse

425 notes · View notes

luvrodite · 1 year

Text

MARLBORO NIGHTS JASON TODD

↳ smoking jason's favourite brand of cigarettes after his death. reader is an adult. sfw, angst.

Smoke curls through the winter air, tobacco bitter on your tongue. The packet in your pocket lies heavy like stones, and you fiddle with the lighter. On, off, on, off. The flame sparks to life and is snuffed out, again and again.

You know that when you return to the warmth of your apartment it’ll be with the scent soaked into your clothes. It isn’t a foreign scent to you–the bones of an old friend, of a life long gone.

The first time you catch Jason smoking is in the tenth grade, just after your fifteenth birthday. He hides out in the stairwell by the school’s rear entrance, where the smoke alarm is notoriously faulty–and when you happen upon him, you half wonder if it isn’t because of him. You stare, jaw agape, and he turns when he hears your footsteps, relaxing at the sight of you.

“What are you doing?” you ask shrilly, panicky as though a teacher might come by and call home just on account of your being there. You don’t plan to go down with him, and you wave your hands at him to put it out. “Are you insane?”

He doesn’t listen to you. In fact, he laughs.

“Will you relax?” he sputters, coughing when he inhales accidentally. A tear slips past his lashline, and his mouth stretches in a broad grin. You stare at the path it makes down his cheek, water staining his skin. When you look back up, he’s watching you. You grimace, feeling your face warm.

“Someone could see you,” you hiss, clutching the strap of your bag. A door slams somewhere around the corner, and you startle.

“No one’s going to see me,” he soothes, and then pauses as if to think about it. “Unless you keep making a fuss. Then, they’ll definitely find us.”

You stare at him, cross. “Us? This is all you! I’m not doing anything.”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles around the cancer stick. “You look pretty suspicious.”

“You’re hopeless,” you snipe, crossing your arms. “I hope you get caught.”

Smoke curls out of his mouth, and you wrinkle your nose at the smell. He tilts his head, teal eyes assessing you carefully. “Nah, you don’t.”

You flush all the way right down to your fingertips.

It becomes something of a routine, to wander through the rear hallways on your way to study hall, and linger a few paces away from Jason who almost always has his lighter in his hands and a white and orange stick in his mouth. Nobody ever says anything when you show up ten minutes after the bell, so you figure you’ve gotten off clean.

The older boy doesn’t seem to mind your company, or your questions, or your gentle reminders that the cigarettes are bad for him. He smiles around the paper cylinder at you when you screw up your face, and always laughs when a far off noise spooks you.

“Why do you do that?” you ask, leaning against the wall opposite Jason. He quirks a brow silently. “You don’t get mad, when I come bother you?”

He shrugs. “What’s there to be mad about? You’re funny.”

You furrow your brows, unsure what exactly he finds so humorous. He smiles, boyish and unaffected, taking one last drag before dropping it to the linoleum and crushing it beneath his sneaker.

“You’re not bad company,” he adds, patting you on the shoulder as he passes. Your shoulder burns for the rest of the day.

Jason kisses you for the first time a few weeks before he dies, fifteen and hiding from the hall monitor who he swears has a vendetta against him. You're too busy trying to hide to tell him that maybe there's a reason for that. You duck into an empty classroom–Gotham City High School has a surprising amount of rooms that remain unoccupied–hiding behind the frosted glass with his hand in yours. You’re crouched beneath the window, eyes wide and staring back at him.

There’s none of that fear you seem to always carry, in his eyes. Jason is always brave–sometimes reckless, but you think that requires a certain degree of bravery, still. He grins back, fingers clutching yours tightly. You hold on tighter when the footsteps echo closer, shadows spilling beneath the door.

Relax, Jason mouths at you and you glare at him. Your heart thunders in your ears.

This is your fault, you stress back at him, pointing at him with your free hand for emphasis. He only smiles, and before you know it, you’re leaning forward clumsily to press your mouth to his.

He smiles even then. One hand in yours, the other coming up to cup your face. You can taste the tobacco on him, and the brush of his hair against your temple tickles.

Two weeks later, he’s gone.

The lighter remains in your locker for the remainder of the year, where you can’t bear to touch it until the last day of school. You slip it into your pocket, fingers smoothing over the plastic casing. The JT scrawled on the bottom makes your stomach dip.

High school is long behind you now, but the weight of the lighter is familiar to you still, the turn of the metal wheel and its sparks bringing forth old ghosts. In the dead of night, you can close your eyes and pretend the drag of wind against your face is something else, that the rustle of the leaves in the street almost sound like footsteps.

“Anybody ever tell you those are bad for you?”

is this totally shit? i hope not. i've never smoked a day in my life you guys please ignore inconsistencies/inaccuracies. anyway i've been thinking a lot about first love jason and the tragedy of having that ripped away just as you get to have it. anyway, i hope this was somewhat enjoyable. please don't expect a part 2 lol.

#jay my heart #jasonsmirrorball #jason todd x reader #jason todd fic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd imagine #jason todd reader insert #x reader

270 notes · View notes

intimidating-fettuccine · 9 months

Note

Could you do sully and poly lj and Jason's reaction to seeing how someone makes their Y/N cry?

You see, I'm a person who usually has trouble expressing my anger or discomfort, so people tend to take advantage of that and take out their frustrations on me, and a few days ago I really got screwed emotionally, so could I get some comfort please?

Sully:

Listen... Fists are gonna be flying. Sully tries to promise you he'll handle it like an adult if someone ever upsets you, but the second someone makes you cry his fists are connecting with their face, and it's game over. Sully will quite literally beat the shit out of anyone that makes you upset, and he sort of blacks out during the whole thing, only coming to by the time they're on the ground begging for mercy and you're trying to get him to stop. Of course, it's not always that bad, sometimes he just gets a bit threatening and gets them to fuck off, but today he just couldn't take it and let loose on them. He turns around quickly, scooping you into his arms and carrying you somewhere that the two of you can be alone, checking in on you and making sure you're alright. He'll kiss your cheeks and assure you gently that it's okay, a very stark contrast to how he was just a few minutes ago, and he'll hold you close and tight until you're able to stop crying. Sully gets very protective over you, and he cannot stand the sight of you crying, it just hurts his heart too much, so he'll do whatever he can to cheer you up, whether it's spoiling you with some yummy food, or just holding you close and cuddling with you. Today it's cuddling, and he rushes you quickly back to the mansion, curling up with you in bed and snuggling you until you're both on the cusp of falling asleep. He'll reassure you, comfort you and remind you that none of the negative things people might tell you are true, and that you're alright, and loved and cared for and needed. Sully adores you so much, and he'll do anything to put a smile back on that captivating face of yours.

Jason/LJ:

While these two can get just as boiling hot and angry as Sully does, they tend to prefer to try to be a bit more subtle, although it doesn't always work. When Jason outright demands for the person who upset you to apologize and retract their statement, LJ holding you close and whispering to you that it's okay and they're there for you, Jason expects them to apologize, and if not, that's when he blows his top. Assuming the person apologizes Jason lets them off with a warning and some harshly coded threats before going off with you and LJ. Assuming the person doesn't apologize, LJ is instructed to take you home, and Jason will beat them up worse than Sully had. Jason has a no tolerance policy in the Underworld for people making you cry (something pretty well known), and he won't hesitate to remind people just who it is you're dating. Regardless of what happens today, when the three of you are finally home together, it's time to get comforted and spoiled. You've got both of them cuddling up to you, holding you and pressing kisses to you, reassuring you and making sure you're alright. LJ grabs some snacks and Jason prepares some delicious drinks, and they'll sit with you and do whatever they can to make you laugh and feel better. If you really need to unwind, Jason is also always ready to prepare a nice luxurious bath for the three of you to relax and calm down in. They'll wash away your worries and make sure to love on you and spoil you a whole lot in the next few days, as both of them just want you to feel safe and happy and loved, so they'll do for you whatever they can to keep you that way.

#creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #homicidal liu #homicidal liu x reader #homicidal liu headcanons #homicidal liu headcanon #jason the toymaker #jason the toymaker x reader #jason the toymaker headcanon #jason the toymaker headcanons #laughing jack #laughing jack headcanons #laughing jack headcanon #laughing jack x reader

153 notes · View notes

asolareclipses · 6 months

Text

(Previous Part)

Taking a bus halfway across Maine was not on Nicos bucket list. Yet, there he was in a stuffy bus that looked, and smelled, like it had been made back in the 20’s—which Nico would know, he was there. Next to him Leo sat anything but still, his fingers drumming against the arm rests and occasionally grabbing things from his tool belt to tinker with. Sometimes he looked like a toddler hyped up on too much sugar. His constant movement comforted Nico though, it was a reminder that he wasn’t alone.

Of course he was still mad at Leo for ruining his genius plan to face a goddess alone, or at least he was trying to convince himself he was mad.

“Dude, this bus needs so much work.” Leo said, as he held up his freshly made penguin that consisted of various screws. “I’m not sure how they got it to last this long, it’s like beyond messed up.”

“Probably why the tickets were so cheap,” Nico replied as he watched the screw penguin’s head bobble around.

“I give it about an hour before it breaks down,” Leo suddenly paused, titling his head as if he were hearing something. “Scratch that she’s going down now.”

As soon as he said that the bus sputtered, losing speed as the driver pulled over to the side of the road.

“Sorry everyone, we seem to be having some problems.” The bus driver grumpily announced, he acted as if this were a regular occasion.

“It’s my time to shine,” Leo grinned as he stood up from the seat. “Don’t worry mortals, Leo’s got this all under control.”

“Please ignore him,” Nico gave the few confused passengers a smile as he pushed Leo towards the door. “You can just call people mortals.”

“Oops,” Leo shrugged as he hopped down from the last bus step onto the pavement. “Anyways let’s see what’s up with this bad boy.”

Nico rolled his eyes as Leo popped open the hood of the bus to reveal the engine. The driver appeared shocked, as Leo shouldn’t have been able to just open it without releasing the latch.

“Hey kid, what do you think you’re doing?” The driver called out as he slowly made his way out of the bus.

“Just fixing up some stuff, don’t mind me.” Leo didn’t even look up as he pulled some tools out of his belt.

Nico was about to try and mediate the situation when he realized something was wrong. Back in the bus he hadn’t noticed it due to the overpowering musk of age, but the driver was most definitely a monster.

By the change of expression on the drivers face, Nico saw that he too realized they weren’t just regular mortals. Leo was, of course, oblivious to this.

“Looks like I have a rat problem,” The bus driver snarled in their direction.

“Nope, not rats, just a really rusted battery.” Leo offhandedly replied.

“Leo, he’s not talking about the bus.” Nico nudged him, as the mist around the driver began to evaporate, morphing his two eyes into one.

“Then what is he-holy smokes!” Leo dropped his wrench in surprise as he saw the undercover cyclopes be revealed.

“Should’ve known you demigods would’ve snuck in here sooner or later,” The driver clenched his bulky fists as if preparing himself to attack.

Nico scanned the area for any makeshift weapon, he was really regretting leaving his sword behind.

“Hey buddy,” Leo raised his hands in attempt to reason, “I’ll fix your bus for free, how about you don’t kill us?”

“Killing you is much better than driving this piece of junk,” His eye was focused on Nico as he spoke. “Especially you, you reek of the underworld.”

“And you reek of spoiled eggs,” Nico snapped back, “at least I have an excuse, what’s yours?”

The cyclopes didn’t like that, which was made apparent by him grabbing a chunk of dirt and lobbing it towards them.

“Hit the deck!” Leo called, which didn’t really apply to them as there was no ‘deck’ but Nico didn’t point that out. Instead, he dropped to the floor as the piece of earth sailed past their heads.

“Leo, does your tool belt supply weapons?” Nico asked while the cyclopes reloaded on dirt.

Leo rummaged for a moment before pulling out a weird hatchet-hammer tool, which later Nico found out was a drywall hammer. “How’s this?”

“Good enough,” Nico said as he grabbed the hammer thing.

Another mound of dirt flew towards them but it was blasted to dust when Leo shot a ball of fire towards it. “Take that dirt boy!” He screamed.

Using Leo as a distraction Nico bolted off to the side, running around the bus so that he ended up behind the cyclopes. Unfortunately the cyclopes seemed to have predicted this as he quickly spun around, his arm slamming into Nico resulting in him being thrown into the side of the bus.

Before the cyclopes could do anymore damage Leo screamed, “Take this dirt face!” Then a wrench bounced off the back of the cyclopes’s head.

A flash of rage appeared on the cyclopes’s face as he turned towards Leo, grabbing an extra large chunk of dirt. “Oh you’re going to regret that.”

“I am?” Leo asked with a grin.

The cyclopes had forgotten about Nico leaving him the perfect opportunity, “I will crush you-” The cyclopes stopped mid sentence as Nico stabbed the hatchet into his back. Then with a look of shock, he erupted into dust.

“Nice!” Leo called out.

“Yeah..” Nico winced as he looked down at his arm, the bandages had been soaked through with blood after the hard hit he took.

“Dude, ouch.” Leo’s smile dropped as his eyes moved over the once white gauze.

“It’s fine,” Nico sighed looking back towards the bus, “more importantly. What are we going to do now?”

Leo seemed to realize they were now faced with a bus full of angry commuters, with no bus driver, and still had about 150 miles to go. “Right, looks like we’re taking a ride on the Leo express!”

—

Leo knew how to drive, mostly.

While he’d never taken the time to get an official license, he knew machines better than anyone. A bus was certainly easier to handle than a giant flying ship.

Fixing the engine was also a piece of cake.

The difficult part was the passengers, turns out they weren’t thrilled by the sudden staff change.

“There’s no way we can just let a 15 year old drive!”

“Hey!” Leo snapped at the lady who looked like she was about to demand to speak to his supervisor. “I’ll have you know i’m 18!”

“Do you even have a license?”

“Now now, everyone calm down. Listen, i’m a trained professional.” Leo shrugged with his palms up, “I mean, do you want to stay on the side of the road forever?”

The bus went quiet with defeat.

“Right, well then sit down, get comfortable, because the Leo train is leaving the station!” Leo didn’t get the cheers and applause he expected from that statement, just a few groans and unpleasant mutters.

Soon, the bus was driving smoothly across the roads and Leo barely had to pay attention as he’d fixed up a temporary autopilot gadget. Beside him, Nico winced as he removed the bandages from his scratches. Somehow the wound looked worse.

“Dude, that looks really bad,” Leo frowned as he pulled out more bandages from his tool belt.

“It’s fine,” Nico mumbled, not even looking up at Leo.

“Yeah you keep saying that but I’ve yet to start believing it.”

Nico wrapped the bandages carefully around his arm, gritting his teeth as he tried to hide the pain. “It’s just a scratch, i’ve seen worse.”

That didn’t comfort Leo, in fact in made him feel worse. Of course, it’s only expected that a demigod face some pretty rough injuries here and there—Leo himself had seen quite a few. But Nico’s insistence on ignoring his pain made Leo worried that if it were to be serious, he’d never know.

Despite that, he knew arguing would just make Nico more annoyed, so he tried to liven up the atmosphere. “You know, if we were in an episode of the Magic School Bus right now you’d be Arnold.”

“What the Hades is the Magic School Bus?” Nico looked at Leo as if he were crazy.

Leo threw his head back in exasperation, “You’ve got to be joking! You don’t know the Frizz?”

“The what?”

“That’s it, i’m making a list of all the things you need to watch when we get back to camp.”

“Whatever,” Nico rolled his eyes, “as long as you don’t put Twilight on there i’m happy.”

“Hold up, Twilight?” Leo tried and failed to hold back a smile.

“Yeah, Will told me it was iconic, or whatever.” Nico paused as if remembering something unpleasant, “If iconic means torturous, then it surely was.”

Leo burst into laughter at the thought of Nico actually watching Twilight, “Dont worry, we will not be watching any vampire shows.”

The rest of the ride was spent with Leo determining what things Nico had and hadn’t watched. Turns out Will had caught him up on quite a lot, but Leo still developed a lengthy list of things he would bless Nico with. In a way Nico’s unawareness of modern culture reminded him of Jason, due to his upbringing by wolves he was a bit out of the loop when it came to many popular things. Leo figured he’d do a “modern culture” class at camp, maybe invite Hazel. The idea made him smile, it was something to look forward to.

Eventually, they made it to the bus station, where he and Nico quickly snuck away to avoid suspicion. To their luck no one at the station had realized what happened until they were long gone.

Not to their luck, they still had a five mile walk ahead of them.

They spent a large part of the walk in silence, as it was hard to focus on anything other than the heat. Eventually, Leo got bored and tried to think about anything else, his mind wandering back to their previous conversation.

“I’m really wishing I had a magic school bus right about now,” Leo whined as he trudged forward. The warm air was now unpleasant as the sun beamed down upon him.

“And i’m really wishing I left you back at camp.”

“Hey!” Leo glared at Nico who bit back a smile, “You’re lucky! I blessed you with my company.”

Nico scoffed, “Right, blessed, that’s the word I was looking for.”

“Why does this place have to be out in the middle of nowhere?” Leo asked as he peered into the distance in hopes of seeing the outline of the school.

“Guess they didn’t want any kids running off,” Nico shrugged. “Honestly I don’t remember much about it, I was only there for like a year?” He seemed to think about it for a moment before giving up.

“That was after the casino?” Leo asked, he decided to take this as a chance to ask more about Nico’s past. It was the one topic Nico avoided, or maybe Leo was the one who avoided it, after all he knew how much old memories could hurt.

“Yeah, time felt so messed up back then. I mean it was like seventy years? But then suddenly i’m in the 20th century at some school in a state i’d never heard of before.” Nico sighed, “Not sure how I wasn’t more confused, it just felt normal, or whatever I thought normal was.”

Leo nodded, he was afraid to speak, careful to not scare Nico away.

“You don’t have to be so on edge,” Nico turned to look at him, almost as if he’d read his mind.

“I’m not...” Leo paused, “It’s just you’ve never talked in depth about this stuff with me before.”

“Yeah, I hadn’t talked about it with anyone until Will. But Mr. D says ‘talking is good,’ so might as well take his advice for once.”

The idea of Mr. D being a therapist threw Leo for a loop but he didn’t say anything about it, “Yeah, I guess I never really told anyone about all my stuff until Jason.”

Nico suddenly smirked, “You too seem pretty close.”

Leo’s face flushed red as he avoided Nico’s eyes, “What? No-I mean, of course we’re close, we’re best friends. Totally platonic best friends.”

“Right, and I totally believe you.” Nico rolled his eyes with a grin. There was a peaceful silence for a split second before Nico’s smile faded. Now, in the distance the outline of a large school could be seen.

Nico sighed, a hesitant look flashing across his face before he spoke, “We’re here. Welcome to Westover.”

Part Six

81 notes · View notes