#have this vague memory of putting it away somewhere slightly different?

[daisywords]

weeping wailing and gnashing of teeth

[musings-of-a-rose]

Mistake

Pairing: Frankie Morales/Santi Garcia x f!reader

Word Count: 3000+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Angst galore. Thanks to @vanemando15 for being a beta and @mermaidxatxheart for bouncing ideas around!

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❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Frankie Morales Masterlist

Santiago Garcia Masterlist

It's bright. Why is it so bright in here? Blinking my eyes open, I'm met with the light streaming in through the curtains, shining across my face. 

And then the headache slams into me. 

Groaning, I grab my head, my fingers kneading into my temples, willing the pain to go away without having to move. I drank way too much last night and I'm certainly paying for it now. Nausea starts to set in, churning my stomach slightly as if it's preparing me for a lengthy bathroom session later. It's when I reach for my stomach that I realize I'm not wearing any clothes. A peek under the covers reveals that I'm completely naked. Well, at least I got comfortable before bed?

I play the events of last night in my head. Having the same best friends as your fiancé has its perks, but when they're all former soldiers, you definitely have to work to keep up with their drinking, especially with us being in Vegas. Our Bachelor  and Bachelorette parties were combined, all of us simply hanging out in each other's rooms and basically drinking, playing the occasional game. I vaguely remember Santi telling me, somewhere between my 6th and 9th drink, that this was why he added a day between the party and our actual wedding. He knew we'd need to recover and he was right. 

If you had told me 5 years ago that I would be engaged to Santiago Garcia, I would have laughed in your face. Not that he's a terrible person, but he's not the kind of guy I usually fall for. He's impulsive, hard headed, and a giant flirt, which is why it took me so long to realize he was serious when he asked me out. I'm honestly surprised I'd said yes, considering the amount of women I'd seen run through his home, some of them throwing things at him as they left. 

I remember the first time I saw that happen. Frankie chuckled and shook his head, saying that's just how Santi is. Frankie is the one of the group I'd bonded to the fastest, quickly becoming best friends and remaining so, despite my desire to be more. But life had other plans, giving Frankie a baby from a girl he barely knew. And though they gave it their best shot, it didn't end well. 

But then Santi swooped in and somehow, we fell for each other. And now we're getting married, which is something I never thought he'd agree to. 

I roll onto my side, headache following me and I see a toned, tanned arm sticking out from the between the sheets. I reach out, my fingers brushing his skin as I smile, a handful of flashes of the night before dancing in my head. Santi is an amazing lover, always responding to my every need and desire with fervor. Something feels different about the memories, though I can't quite put my finger on it. 

Rolling to my other side, I groan, swallowing down the churning feeling in my stomach. Soft skin, and that same arm wraps around me, calloused fingers gently rubbing my stomach, a sleepy attempt to help quell my quesiness. 

"Santi."

I feel Santi scoot up behind me, his body molding to mine as he pushes his nose to the side of my neck, nuzzling into it. 

His hand skates sleepily down my body, gently rubbing circles between my thighs in an effort to make me feel better. My pulse quickens, my breaths coming quicker as he continues to work me open. A nip to my shoulder sends warmth between my legs and my breath hitches. I bring my hand up, reaching behind Santi's head to grip his curls. Except, I'm not met with the tight, short curls of my fiance. These ones are longer, softer, more flipping out before becoming actual curls. My brain is rapidly waking, pushing past the hangover to process what was happening, who was happening. A small moan from him and my brain finally clicks it all into place. 

Frankie.

I grab his hand and toss it from me, yanking my body forward to create as much space as I can considering I'm pinned under the sheets. He protests, his hands still reaching for me. 

"Frankie?" I question, hoping to anything that I was wrong. 

"Mmm?" 

Shit. 

"FRANKIE." I'm more firm, scrambling to disentangle myself from the sheets that now feel like a prison. 

"Come back to bed. You weren't finish-"

"Frankie."

His body stills as my voice finally seems to permeate his sleepy, hungover state. He sits up quickly, hand flying to his head as he blinks, swearing under his breath as his head pounds. He whispers my name and I can hear the desperation behind it, hope that he's hearing things and didn't sleep with his best friend's fiancé.

"It's me."

His large hands run down his face, rubbing at his eyes before he finally looks at me, regret pouring out from behind his deep brown eyes. 

"I- what..did we…" He stutters, already knowing the answer to the questions he's trying to ask. 

"I..I think so." Tears well up in my eyes, my voice cracking as the weight of what had most likely transpired comes crashing down on me.

On us. 

"Shit….SHIT!" Frankie yells, slamming his fist down on the bed. "What the fuck happened?"

I clutch the sheet, holding it up to my neck as the tears start to fall. "All I remember is drinking way too much and I think you offered to take me back to the room? Santi… I don't know what happened to him. But Frankie, what..what do we do?"

"I don't fucking know, do I? Shit, this is bad. I mean not that I haven't thought about… but that's not the point…wait. Are we sure we even really…"

"You had half your hand inside me just a few minutes ago, Frankie. Safe to assume we did."

Frankie is silent a moment. "Unless you thought I was Santi?"

"Does it even matter?"

An uncomfortable silence falls between us, so much left unsaid whether from fear or self preservation, I don't know. 

"Don't look."

Frankie glances over at me. "Why not?"

"I'm getting out of the sheets. Turn around."

"Haven't I seen it all?"

"Do you remember?"

"Fair point." Frankie turns his head and shifts his body away from me, attempting to give me some semblance of dignity. Whatever is left of that anyway. 

I extricate myself from the sheets, reaching down to grab my clothes off the floor. Which is when I see a certificate on the table. Pulling my dress over my head, I walk to the table, picking up the paper and scanning it, my eyes growing wider with every word. 

"Fuck…fuck!"

"Did I mess up your clothes?" Frankie asks. 

I wish that was our problem. 

Grabbing the paper, I walk around the bed and stand in front of him, shoving the paper towards him. Frankie blinks up at me and takes the paper, slowly turning it around to read it. His eyes grow wide and he stands abruptly, nearly knocking me on my ass. 

"WE GOT MARRIED??"

"I don't remember!"

"Fucking hell, I… I don't remember either!" His eyes scan the paper again, looking for the butt of a joke and finding none. 

"May…maybe we can get it annulled?" I offer up. 

"Could we?"

I shrug. "They did on Friends."

He glances back down at the paper. "That's only half our problem."

"I'm supposed to get married tomorrow, Frankie. What the fuck am I supposed to say to Santi?"

He looks at me, regret oozing from him. "I don't fucking know, do I? I can't remember anything to even tell him, aside from waking up with a major hangover and my hand shoved between his finance's legs."

He stands angrily and I back up a few steps to give him space. But he misinterprets my reaction and his eyes narrow. 

"Do you think I'd hurt you?"

"What? No, I was giving you space."

He steps towards me and I step backwards, my own back bumping into the hotel wall. 

"I'd never hurt you. I've only ever wanted to love you and be with you but not…not like this."

"Like this?"

He gestures around. "Whatever the fuck happened." He takes a step towards me again and my breath catches in my throat. I'd given up on Frankie a while ago, trying to give him the space he would need for his daughter and his doomed relationship with her mother. 

His hand comes up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers linger there, thumb rubbing into my cheek as his eyes find mine. 

"I don't want you to marry Santi." It's whispered, but he may as well have yelled his confession. 

"I..what are you saying?"

His finger traces my cheek as I hold my breath, my eyes locked onto his as I wait.

"I love-"

Knock, knock!

I jump, swatting his hand aside as I walk to the door, smoothing out my dress before I look in the peephole.

Santi. 

"Querida, you in there?"

I glance back at Frankie who is still standing where I left him, pants pulled on but still shirtless. He crosses his arms, biceps pulling with the effort and he nods once. 

Taking a deep breath, I crack open the door and see Santi standing there, smiling when his eyes meet mine.

"Querida you're alive!" He chuckles and takes a step forward. When I don't open the door wider, he stops, eyebrows coming together.

"Is everything ok?"

Tears fall, tracing wet paths down my cheeks. But before I can speak, Santi steps forward and reaches out, wiping them from my cheeks. 

"Querida, what's wrong? What happened?" He's not joking around - he knows this isn't the time. His eyes take in my face, raking down what's visible of my body to check for any injuries. 

Suddenly, I can't talk. "I…I…" 

Santi's voice lowers, nearly to a whisper. "Blink twice if there's someone in the room that will hurt you."

Determined not to blink, I stare back at him. His shoulders relax after several seconds and he lets out a breath of relief. 

"Querida-"

"I love you, Santi."

"I love you too, but what-"

I pull open the door the rest of the way, inviting him in. His eyes are on me as he steps in and I gently close the door behind him.

"Querida, what-"

Frankie had shuffled his feet and Santi turns around, immediately on alert for trouble. He relaxes when he sees Frankie, not taking in the situation.

"Hey, Cat. You're alive too I see?"

Frankie glances at me. "I survived the night."

Santi laughs. "Surprising. You had so much to drink. I'm nursing a mad hangover so I know you have…to…be…" Santi's speech slows, his brain making the connection between my tears and Frankie being shirtless in my room, the sheets all mussed up. Santi's eyes snap back to Frankie's after looking at the bed. 

"Oh, what the fuck man?" I can hear him holding back his anger, hoping that he's misreading the situation. 

When Frankie doesn't reply, the hope disappears from Santi's eyes, replaced by a hurt that pierces me straight through. 

"You were supposed to get her back safe!" Santi yells, stepping closer to Frankie. 

"I did! She's here isn't she?"

"She's here and fucked by you! I knew I shouldn't have trusted you with her. I fucking knew but I thought you were over that little crush you had-"

Frankie moves away from the wall and steps towards Santi, finger pointing at him angrily. "It was never a little crush and you fucking know that. And you went after her anyway!"

"You went and got some girl pregnant! It's not my fault you weren't there."

"But you made damn sure you were there after!"

"Someone had to take care of her!"

Frankie steps closer, glaring down at his friend. "You fucking took her from me!"

"You fucked my fiancé!"

They were in each other's faces now, just a step away from each other.

"You never cared for her! Only wanted her after I said I loved her!"

Santi's eyes flash red, his entire body shaking. I've never seen either of them this mad before. 

"I fucking love her, Frankie!"

"Love her so much that you sent her back to a hotel room with the guy who she's been in love with for years and who loves her back?"

WHAM!

Santi's fist collides with the side of Frankie's face, sending his head flying to the side, Frankie stumbling from the force of it. Santi takes advantage of Frankie's momentary distraction and lunges at him, fists flying and hitting their targets. Frankie rallies quickly, throwing his own punches, shoving Santi back, his head hitting the carpeted floor as Frankie climbs on top of him, fist raised and ready to slam into Santi. 

"STOP!" I yell, but he doesn't hear me. I lunge for him, shoving Frankie sideways off Santi onto the floor. He shakes his head and looks at me, anger flashing in his eyes. 

I turn back to Santi who was trying to sit up, blood gushing out of his nose and his right eye swelling quickly. I reach out to touch his face and he flinches, swatting my hand away. 

"Don't touch me." It's quiet, but his words echo around my head. 

"Santi, I-"

"Let me guess. You're sorry?"

"I am, but -"

"No buts. You slept with Frankie. My best friend."

"I didn't know-"

"Do you have any idea how much you're killing me?" His eyes are watering and not from punches. "I never thought I'd stay with anyone and then…there you were."

"I-"

"You pulled me from a dark space. One I never thought I'd be pulled out of. I fucking loved you, querida." Tears fall from his eyes now and my vision blurs with my own as I watch him.

"And now you've fucked my best friend. My best friend! You just-"

"She didn't know." Frankie hasn't moved from where I had shoved him to the ground, aside from sitting upright.

Santi looks at Frankie with digust. "Didn't know? Did she just fall naked into the bed then? Just an oops?"

"It's my fault."

"You wanna elaborate on that?"

Frankie takes a deep breath, his eyes heavy and weary as he glances at me before looking at Santi. "We were both drunk. Her more than me. I really only remember getting her up here, making sure she took off her shoes. I told her to change her clothes because she had throw up on them. The next thing I know, she's yelling at me to get up, shoving me away from her."

"That doesn't-"

"She kept calling me Santi."

Frankie looks at me, hurt in his eyes. "She thought I was you right up until she was fully awake."

"I thought you said you don't remember-"

"I'm getting flashes. She called me Santi."

"How is it your fault?" Santi asks. "It's not like you just let her-"

"I didn't stop her. She called me Santi and I didn't stop her. I should have…but I didn't."

He moves too fast for me, olive skin bunched into a fist collides with Frankie's face, sending him flying backwards. 

"Fuck you, Frankie." Santi struggles to his feet, his hand coming up to dab at his bleeding nose. I stand with him, hands moving to his face to inspect his injuries. He flinches at my touch, but his eyes find mine and I break. 

"I'm sorry." It's not enough but all I can choke out. 

His hands grip my wrists, bringing them away from his face. 

"I love you, querida. But I…I can't." He cries, tears falling silently as his heart breaks from the pain I put there. "I can't do this. I can't even look at Frankie, and you? You're the last person I thought would ever hurt me."

"Santi-"

He drops my wrists and heads towards the door, pausing at the table where the marriage certificate between Frankie and I lays. He stares at it for several long moments before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a wedding band, my wedding band, and sets it on the certificate. He doesn't say a word and he doesn't look back as he leaves the room, quietly closing the door behind him. 

The room is oppressive with its silence, despite not being alone in it. I feel like I'm suffocating, dying, like a part of me went with Santi and I knew I'd never see it again. 

"I'm sorry." Frankie quietly breaks the silence. 

"You're sorry?" I turn to face him. I know I am not innocent but what he just revealed makes me sick. "You knew I was calling out for Santi and you didn't stop me?"

"I-"

I wanna throw up, scream, throw things, something, anything to get away, crawl out of my own body. 

"I trusted you."

"I…lied."

"What?"

"I guess I didn't realize how much you actually love him. And how he loves you. And I wanted to give you a shot so I lied."

I take a step closer, anger radiating out from me. "Lied about what exactly?'

Frankie takes a deep breath. "You never called out his name. Not until this morning before we both were….aware."

"Then-"

"You called out my name. And I just…I couldn't resist. I'm so sorry. I'm a weak person I know. I was drunk and in love and…" He gestures randomly. 

"Get out."

"What?"

"Get out of my room."

I don't have to repeat myself. Frankie gets up off the floor, grabbing his shirt on the way out. He doesn't say anything but pauses to look back, regret and pain in his eyes. 

I don't blame Frankie. The more the day wears on the more I start to remember. I definitely started it, thinking it was Santi. When I realized it wasn't, I didn't stop. Just switched to the right name, my long love for Frankie winning out over drunk logic. 

And now I get to go back to an empty home, all because of someone's love for me that was not my fiance. 

>>Mistake Part 2>>

-------

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[tmisaccidentreportbook]

MAG005, Thrown Away

Case #0092302, Keiran Woodward Release date: April 2, 2016 First listen: 14th October I think? Going but the notes. Presumably early on the walk into work.

Ah, the buck toothed step child of a statement that no one could categorise until Jonny set it straight in the Q&As. He admitted that this is a version of The Flesh that still hadn’t been quite realised, but I really liked it. And by really liked, I mean it freaked the bejeezus outta me.

- I have vague memories of listening to thing on the walk into work. Walking in the early morning, y’know, the same sort of time that the refuse collection teams are out…

- I’m not sure if I’m built odd, and I appreciate that refuse collection is hard, sometimes dangerous work, but I think I’d prefer it to office work. I don’t have the constitution for office work, I did admin for a year and it got to the point that every time a phone went I hissed at it. And that role had puppies included.

- ‘A strange side to humanity, but an honesty one at that,’ feels like such a fond line. I love it. And I can appreciate it. I have a somewhat odd inherited habit of skip diving and I’ve found… strange things. Also, I know well the planning needed for the strategic disposal of wine bottles. I don’t drink, but my family has hosted A LOT of shindigs over the years and you learn to chip away at the pile.

- The dolls. Actually, no, the doll heads. An excellent, damn creepy choice Jonny. I didn’t really have a problem with dolls before this podcast, but it’s amazing how many things I’ve come to realise, oop, yup, nope, don’t like that. But I have spent time working at the find arts auctions with my mum on occasion, and I usually on the miscellaneous lots; lots with no real category and were all thrown in together so it was unreasonable to have the person manning it have a deep understanding of everything, so throw the student who knows nothing but is delighted to learn on there. Only, sometimes they had dolls. And they always attracted a strange breed of dealers. Typically little old ladies with slightly unnerving stares.

- I think this episode was a discussion on surplus and waste but there’s something odder still. It’s one thing to have a bag of doll’s heads. It’s another to have a bag of doll’s heads that look purpose bought and then purposely distressed only to be thrown out.

- ‘Waste collecting, second most dangerous profession in England’. OK, checking that out… So a few tabloids are putting it around 12th but they appear to be going off the same data set. uk.indeed.com have it in 2nd after deckhand. Business leader has ‘waste management’ in 5th but I think that’s an entire industry rather than roles. I’m tempted to go with Jonny, Kieran and uk.indeed.com’s assessment because any other publication I’d trust more than The Mirror or The Sun have their articles about the reports behind a sodding paywall…

- Not UK related but I think I read somewhere about the mottos and titles of different city departments in New York. Fire fighters, ‘New York’s Bravest’. Police, ‘New York’s Finest’, ACAB. The Department of Sanitation, are ‘New York’s Strongest’.

- Alan so interested in the bags’ contents. Another one being punished for curiosity. Or rather, the curiosity, almost morbid in this case, made for an easy take.

- The Lord’s Prayer, written over and over again in Latin. Latin = Bad News. We’ve got another one! I’m really interested to hear how Jonny came to this choice. The doll’s heads and the teeth are macabre and could be seen examples of waste and excess and the expandability of people. But I’d love to hear what inspired this line of thought. Was it just something unnerving and almost occult? A prayer passed over a flame? Was it about the organised religion and the history of excess and corruption? Was it about the impacts of prayer over action? The same prayer over and over and over again? Was it just something that was damn creepy? No, I’m not spiralling, Jonny I just want to talk. I’m an atheists, I have no horse in this race, but I have been in a lot of churches and sat through a lot of services, Jonny, what does it mean!?

- The teeth… The mounting dread of the team, apart from Alan. Kieran, the designated pick-uper of the bag. I wonder how many teeth you can fit in a bin bag… Am I gonna risk goggling that?

- All I got was ideally that they need to be disposed of in medical waste and sites selling tiger bags, yellow and black striped bags.

- Dave, vomiting into a drain. Good lad, not compromising the scene or the evidence. Well done.

- Phoned the police. Yeah, there’s no confidentiality clause with the bin teams.

- It’s a little thing, but the officer that knocks on the door is gendered as female. So was one of the officers that attended to Not!Graham and was shown his passport photo. Part of me wondered if perhaps they were either Basira or Daisy or perhaps the same officer. But I’ve looked at the map, and I don’t know how the allocation of police beats works, but Clapham and Walthamstow are clear across the river from one another. And can not see Daisy or Basira laughing with Not!Graham or being rattled by the teeth.

- Poor old couple being the unwitting site of eldritch fly tipping… Ooooh THIS might be why I got so upset someone was leaving bags to go out with my rubbish…

- Yeah, in a job like that, the last thing you want is someone becoming a danger.

- ‘Needed to know’… Ermmm… and coupled with the appearance of the music…

- Fell asleep at the wheel. Jonny makes a point of saying no one was hurt, but there has been a number of terrible and tragic collisions involving bin lorries in recent years in the UK.

- Dark green ribbon. Why dark green? In mockery of the typical council uniform?

- Bronze heart ‘roughly carved’ but the name ‘Alan Parfitt’ engraved with ‘machine like precision’? Like… although whoever it was knew it was to be Alan, but just not what memento was to be left?

- I have often fantasised about disposing of things in our medical waste bins to be incinerated... This is not to be used against me in a court of law, but there’s padlock on that thing and if you put it in a tiger bag… OK, so I will say that during one summer internship, a friend and I effectively wrote a murder mystery between us in an effort to keep ourselves sane and discussed all the ways we could THEORECTICALLY dispose of a body at a falconry breeding centre. We were going to call it ‘Tuppence A Bag’.

- ‘End of statement. So nice to be able to verify this one.’Jonathan, so happy, yes, time stamps, names, addresses, good.

- ‘Got Martin out of the archive for an afternoon, which is always a welcome relief.’ MEAN. SO MEAN. An aside, but I love time travel aus where they go back in time and see just how grumpy and mean past-Jonathan can be. And just how ‘not taking your shit’ future-Martin is. I love starfleetrambo’s stuff.

- Apparently the officers called to 93 Lancaster Road were Officer Suresh and Officer Altman, so defiantly not Basira or Daisy. I can’t remember if it’s mentioned what units the two served with beyond Section 31.

- So you can get 2780 teeth in a bin bag, good to know. The deliberation he takes to say ‘the exact... same... tooth...’ screaming

[foreverindreamlandd]

Awake My Soul • 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

WC: 3.5k

Summary: It’s been 5 years since zombies first started their invasion, and despite everything you’ve been through, you’ve managed to survive up until this point. Now it’s time to face your most dangerous challenge yet….the grumpy, untrusting, fiercely protective Bucky Barnes.

Chapter Warnings: Canon level violence, gets pretty gruesome (it's a zombie fic lol), vague mentions of torture, Bucky is angy.

Series Masterlist / Series Playlist

It was raining.

Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, a flash of a memory brought you back to the days when you could sit by an open window, inhaling the smells from outside made that much sweeter by the rain. The pine scent from the evergreens that surrounded your home was sharper, the aromas from the flower garden just below you wafted upwards, making your bedroom smell like lilacs.

If you were lucky, your mom would have made hot chocolate, walking it over to you and sitting beside you within the alcove in your room, the two of you watching the rain in silence, allowing the sounds of droplets create a symphony with the different surfaces it fell upon.

But that was just a memory. A time when you could simply observe the weather and appreciate it with very little thought.

Now, every minute shift in your environment was a potential hindrance to your survival.

Rain was no longer just rain.

It was a sound you could hide behind, a substance that could wash away your footprints.

It was a lubricant that made climbing more difficult, a resistance added to your steps as you trudged through the thick mud.

Still, even as you sat atop an oak tree, eyes scanning the area for any signs of movement, the faint taste of chocolate lingered on your tongue.

Five years of this desolate life, and still those happy memories managed to poke through.

The snap of a twig caused your head to whip over to your right, eyes narrowing as you tried to focus through the wall of raindrops to the brush below.

It took a few seconds, but then you saw them.

There were three. Two adults and one kid, dragging their deteriorating bodies along. The rainfall was loud enough to create a reprieve for you from the horrific moaning sounds that continuously fell from their skeletal mouths.

Zombies.

You shifted on the branch ever so slightly to hide from them. Their gazes remained downward as they slowly walked down the wooded path, and you were grateful for the fact that you had just applied a fresh layer of moss to your skin.

They were twenty feet ahead of you now, gaze still focused on a nonexistent destination.

Just a few more minutes and they would be gone, and then you could continue moving.

It still wasn’t safe yet. You needed to put more distance between you and them.

Not that any amount of distance would ever make you feel safe. Not from the people who terrified you more than any undead creature could.

“I will always find you.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing your breathing to remain steady.

Just when they stepped out of sight, another twig snapped.

Right below you.

Your head shot down, hand tightening around the hilt of your handaxe ready to strike.

But then your eyes widened, your mouth dropped open, and your heart stopped as you saw the source of the sound.

Kids. Two boys.

Alive.

They looked up at you, hands gripping the bark of the tree in panic.

The younger boy let out a small whimper, and you nearly jumped the 20 feet down from your spot to clamp your palm over his mouth, but it was too late.

You looked back ahead, and sure enough, there they were, bodies hobbling to what they hoped was their next meal.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, releasing your hold from the handaxe and grabbing the branch below.

The boys jumped back as you landed onto the muddy surface, their arms now grasping one another instead of the trees. The younger one looked like he was on the verge of sobbing and you slowly raised your pointer finger to your lips.

The older boy nodded in understanding, covering the younger one’s mouth.

You closed your eyes, hands moving to your side as you held onto the hilts of both axes, taking a long, deep breath as you forced your ears to block out the rain and listen for the terrifying groaning that approached.

On the exhale, your eyes shot open and you turned to run at them.

You went for the adult on your right first, lodging one ax into their neck and spinning behind them to gain momentum to pull it out as your other ax landed on the top of the kid's skull. The second adult barely had time to turn their neck before your blade was lodged inside its cheek.

They were on the ground, unmoving as you panted, securing the weapons to your sides once more. 

Then, you returned your attention back to the boys, who had stepped away from the tree, staring at you.

The older one opened his mouth to speak but you shook your head, finger going back to your lips and his mouth clamped shut.

You walked back to them, grabbing them both by the shoulder and ushering them back to behind the tree. 

After stepping back to do a quick scan of the perimeter, you looked back, face inches from theirs.

“Are you hurt?” They shook their heads. “Have you…have you been bitten?”

Their eyes widened as the head shaking grew more frantic. Then, they rolled up their sleeves and pulled the collars of their shirts, proving that there were no marks on their skin.

You nodded, letting out a sigh of relief. “Are you alone? Do you have people watching over you?”

The younger one’s bottom lip trembled as the older one whispered out, “We lost Momma and Bucky a few hours ago. There was a raid and we got separated.”

Fuck, you thought instead of saying out loud. “Do you have any idea where you last saw them?”

They shook their heads again.

Finally, the younger one was no longer able to contain himself as he quietly sobbed out, “Will you help us find Momma?”

You bit the bottom of your lip. It had been years since you had been part of a crew, when a betrayal put a target on your back and put you in a prison that made you desperate to escape to where the undead lurked.

Since you had finally managed to break free weeks ago, you’d been on your own. You preferred it that way. It was easier to be alone. 

Less people to worry about, less people to worry for.

It was that mindset that had you considering saying to the boys good luck and goodbye. Maybe if you gave them a spare blade they could stand a chance until someone alive might find them.

But then you saw the wetness on the young one’s cheek switch from rainwater to tears, and your body sagged in defeat.

“Yeah. I’ll get you to your mom.”

Overcome with emotion, the young one jumped forward, wrapping his arm around your middle. You froze, unsure what to do at first, and then your hands rested on his head and his shoulder in some semblance of a comforting gesture.

“I’m Cass,” the older boy said. “This is my brother AJ.”

You nodded. “Cass. AJ. I’m Y/n.” Pulling back you rubbed AJ’s head with a small side-smile, and you were surprised how much your heart swelled when he smiled back. 

That’s when you realized you were going to do anything and everything these two kids asked of you. “So, which way did your momma-”

Your words died in your throat as your ears picked up a sound nearby. 

Lifeless, dragging moans.

A lot of them.

More walkers, headed in your direction.

You looked to the wide-eyed faces of the boys, grabbing their hands and pulling them along. “Come on, and be quiet,” you whispered.

You started jogging to the right, careful to make sure the pads of your feet landed on the ground as quietly as possible, eyes scanning the area for any type of landmark you could hide in.

The moans grew softer and softer as you ran, and you felt a pit in your stomach start to diminish. They couldn’t catch up, meaning they didn’t have a fast one in their pack.

Those ones could have reached you easily, especially at the slowed pace with the boys.

Finally, about half a mile later, you noticed a large cliff with different jagged rocks sticking out, and some were structured together in a way that looked like they were caves.

It wasn’t awesome, but it would have to do. You could feel the boys starting to drag.

Once you reached the base of the rocks, you linked your fingers together and lowered them, gesturing to Cass to step on and climb up. Once he reached a flat point, you did the same for AJ, and Cass grabbed his younger brother’s arm to help him make it all the way up. 

You turned your head, listening for any signs of approaching zombies. It was quiet, but you didn’t want to test your luck.

With that, you hoisted yourself up the rock to Cass and AJ. Now that you were higher up, you noticed some deep crevasses further ahead and climbed over to hide within one of them.

The three of you huddle down, your arms wrapped around them while they clung to you, their breath shaky, tears streaming down their faces.

You wanted to tell them it was okay, that they were fine. But you couldn’t. You needed to keep quiet in case those walkers caught up.

Also, you didn’t actually know if you were okay.

After thirty minutes or so without hearing anything, you deemed the area safe, slowly moving up to stand, gesturing to the boys to stay where they were while you inspected your surroundings.

The rain had stopped, making it easier to listen for any alarming sounds, which you couldn’t detect. You looked up to the sky, now cloudless, noticing that the sun was starting to set. It would be dark soon. 

You thought for a moment. It was possible that you could continue on and cover more ground, and maybe you could find Cass and AJ’s camp before nightfall.

Or, you had run in the completely opposite direction and this might be the only semi-safe space you would find today.

If it had just been you, you would have gone with the more reckless option.

But now you had two small humans to look after.

With that, you walked back to the boys and told them you were going to camp out here for the night and head out first thing tomorrow. They both nodded, but you caught AJ’s bottom lip tremble.

The kid can’t be older than eight, you thought, heart breaking. Unable to control yourself, you stepped forward, pulling them both in for a hug.

“I promise I’ll do my best to keep you safe. I’ll get you back to your momma, okay?”

You felt them nod against your shoulders.

After a few moments, you pulled away and grabbed your bag, taking out the thin blanket you kept packed in there and wrapping it around them.

“Stay here,” you told them, zipping up the bag and putting it around your shoulders. “I’m going to try to find us some food. Cass, I’m putting you in charge until I get back.”

Cass’s chest puffed up, and he bobbed his head up and down. You gave them a reassuring smile before making your descent back to the ground.

It had been a while since you had traveled with anyone, and it surprised you how quickly you felt overwhelming worry and dread for the boys the further you got from them. You hoped this would be a quick trip and you could find some consumable mushrooms or a squirrel.

In the end, you settled for a pocket full of berries you deemed safe to eat. Luckily, you had left your canteen open while hiding in the tree earlier during the rain, so you had enough water to get you through tomorrow at least.

It was almost pitch black by the time you returned to the rock wall, and you smiled as you let out a sigh of relief knowing you were soon going to be reunited with your young companions.

Just as you raised your right hand against the hard surface to begin climbing, you heard an almost imperceptible shuffling sound behind you. Before you could turn around to see what it was, something had grabbed onto your wrist, pulling it down and shoving your body against the rock.

You let out a soft oof from the impact, using all of your strength to try to get out of this hold, but the arm against your back was immovable.

Hot air brushed against your ear as you heard a gruff, venomous voice whisper, “Where are they?”

“Who the fuck are you?” you whispered back, still trying to break out of the man’s grip.

Suddenly, you were spinning, and then your back was slamming against the hard surface.

And you were face to face with your attacker.

Years of surviving outside made it so that your eyes could see just as well in the darkness as it could in the light, and you were able to make out the giant man who towered over you.

His hair was cropped short, unkempt scruff covering his face. His right hand held a dagger up against your throat as his bottom lip curled up in a snarl.

You looked to his left, and noticed the sleeve to his blue henley was cut and sewn together at the shoulder.

There was no arm to require the extra fabric, apparently. Not that he needed any extra strength to hold you in place. 

“I’m not gonna ask again,” he said, his breath now hitting your cheeks. “Where. Are. They.”

“They’re here! I got them!” another voice called quietly from above you. The man’s eyes shot up from yours and you both looked to see a woman peering over the edge of the rock, Cass and AJ on either side of her.

“Don’t hurt her Bucky!” AJ cried out, and the woman covered his mouth to shush him.  

“She saved us from a pack of walkers earlier and was trying to bring us home!” Cass whisper-yelled in agreement.

Bucky’s jaw tightened, and his venomous gaze met yours. “We can’t trust outsiders,” he said, loudly enough for Cass to hear but you knew the message was aimed toward you.

“Buck, settle down,” the boys’ mom chastised, her tone filled with relief. “They’re here and they’re safe. Let’s just go home.”

AJ wiggled out of his mom’s hold. “Y/n is coming with us, right?” he begged.

Bucky shook his head, opening his mouth to say something but you spoke first. 

“AJ, I think it’s best for you and Cass to go back with your mom and Bucky,” you said, narrowing your eyes at the man who had reinvented the term of being stuck between a rock and a hard place. “I’ll be fine on my own.”

“No,” AJ wailed, now beginning to sob. “You have to come with us! We need to keep you safe!”

Your heart broke into a million pieces, but you refused to let Bucky see tears well in your eyes. However, you could have sworn that you caught his murderous expression soften for a fraction of a second at AJ’s distress.

“She’s good, Bucky,” Cass said, and you were amazed at how adult the young boy sounded in this moment. “She risked her life to save us when she didn’t need to.”

Silence.

Then, “Y/n?” the woman from above called out and you looked up, feeling the blade scrape against your throat. “We have a small camp. It’s well-protected, with a lot of good people who are willing to risk their lives for one another. It’s hard for us to trust newcomers to invite them to stay, but-”

“Sarah, don’t,” Bucky bit out.

“-But you saved my boys, and I don’t know what else I can do to thank you but offer whatever protection we can provide. As long as you’re willing to do the same for us.”

You looked back down at Bucky, who was shaking his head, eyes pleading.

The more his composure was breaking, the more you were able to see behind those eyes. And suddenly, the large, pissed off man before you was just a scared boy.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t just as terrified.

It would be the right thing to do, to say no. To stay on your own and continue running from the living demons that refused to stop hunting you down. Setting roots anywhere meant that you were not only putting a target on your back, but theirs. It would be selfish to expose these people to the dangers that went beyond the undead.

You couldn’t let them find you or anyone else.

But…

“Please, Y/n,” AJ begged. “You have to stay with us. Please.”

It had been so long since you were wanted. Since someone cared about you. Not your body, not the blood flowing through your veins.

Just. You.

“That depends,” you said. “Does staying with you mean this beefcake is going to keep a blade on me at all times? Or will I be able to, like, eat, sleep, and pee without risking getting my neck sliced open.”

The boys let out soft giggles and Bucky’s eyes widened with shock before narrowing. Were the corners of his mouth twitching?

“Bucky,” Sarah said, “Let her go. She’s fine.”

He stared at you for a few seconds, unmoving, and you set your jaw, raising your chin in defiance. 

With one last shake of his head, he loosened his grip, stepping back from you. You rubbed a hand over your neck.

“We’re too far from camp to get there safely in the dark,” Sarah said. “This spot looks safe enough to stay until dawn.”

“I scavenged some berries that y’all are welcome to,” you said, glaring at Bucky when he scoffed.

“That’s great, thank you, Y/n,” Sarah said, then ushered the boys back to your little camp above.

You were about to start your ascent back up when Bucky grabbed your arm, spinning you around until you faced him, the two of you only inches apart.

Instead of feeling fear or anger, you felt heat.

“If you do anything, anything,” he threatened between clenched teeth, “To put one of them in danger, you’ll be wishing one of them flesheaters got their hands on you first.”

He was so close, so close to you, and yet some insane part of you felt the urge to move closer. It must have been your insanity that made you hallucinate his eyes flashing to your lips for a millisecond before meeting yours once again.

But then, thankfully, your wits returned and you smirked.

“Save your threats for those who are actually trying to kill you, beefcake.” He scowled at the pet name you had apparently given him. “As intimidating as I may seem, there’s much scarier shit out there. Scarier than you, so excuse me for not falling victim to your threats. You don’t scare me, you just annoy me.”

Then, Bucky did the one thing you never expected.

He laughed. A low, grizzly chuckle that vibrated the parts of your body connected to his, then he clicked his tongue as he pulled away from you, moving toward the rock wall.

Though the man before you had done literally nothing to earn your sympathy, realization of his missing arm caused you to feel an unshakable urge to offer to help him climb up the wall.

Before you could say anything, Bucky reached down to his right hip, pulling out a small metal grappling hook attached to a thick piece of rope.

You watched him toss the hook up the cliff to where Sarah and the boys were, pulling it taught to make sure it was secure.

Then, he placed his right foot against the rock, turning back to you with a grin.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he said, the sweetness in his voice coated with disdain. Then, he turned back around and began to seamlessly climb the rope.

You watched him in awe, eyes glued to his back muscles as they carried his body up.

It was then that you realized you were alone at the bottom of the cliff. You turned to look over your shoulder into the unending forest.

You could run, you thought to yourself, hand moving up to your stomach, rubbing over the indentations. You could try to get as far away from them as possible. It would be a kindness.

But then you looked back to Bucky, who had made it up the cliff, and was now leaning down, his right arm extended down to you.

He raised his eyebrows questioningly, as if able to sense all of the doubt running through your mind, as if expecting you to run.

It may be a kindness to leave these people be, but it would be a crime to prove Bucky right.

So with that, you reached up the rock wall and grabbed his hand.

Chapter 2

[labomi]

selfish | one (18+)

Summary: You're a former coworker of Kento Nanami back when he was just an office worker. You accidentally run into him at a bakery many years later which gives you a second chance at getting to know the man who had always caught your eye.

Pairing: Kento Nanami x f!Reader

Words: 11.1k+

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, creampie, explicit language, attempted sexual assault, kidnapping, canon-typical violence, alcohol

Note: Read on ao3 here! I’ve been on tumblr on and off for about 10 years at this point (yikes), but I recently decided to start a new one as sort of a writing blog with a lot of anime gif reblogging on the side as well haha. Kind of nervous to post my first fic on tumblr for some reason, so I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading!

Index: [Part One] [Part Two]

“Nanami? Kento Nanami? Is that you?”

You couldn’t believe your eyes. It had been years! Was that really him?

---

The night you accidentally ran into Kento Nanami started off like any other night in your life. After an exhausting day of work, you decided to treat yourself to some sweets at a nearby bakery. The small chime on the door signaled your entrance with the lone employee warmly greeting you.

“Welcome!”

There was only one other customer in the small shop. A tall man stood at the cash register. 

Hmm.

There was something strangely familiar about the man’s demeanor. Curious, you drifted over to the display case next to the register to try and sneak a peek at his face. While admiring the delicious-looking pastries on the counter, you listened in on the conversation between him and the cashier.

“That will be 2000 yen,” the lady said.

“I’ll pay with card.”

You stiffened slightly, eyes widening in surprise. 

That voice!  

You recognized that voice!

The man shifted his face towards you as he reached to grab his wallet from his pocket. You were finally able to get a glimpse of his face. 

You gasped.

“It is you!” you exclaimed in surprise. “Nanami!”

He looked as prim and proper as ever. The man still wore a suit and tie with his hair neatly parted. The only major difference in his appearance was the sunglasses that now completely shielded his eyes.

“It’s good to see you again! How have you been?” you asked eagerly.

Nanami looked at you silently, trying to recall where he had seen your familiar face before.

Then he remembered.

A flood of memories from a different life overcame him. The man hesitantly said your name, like he couldn’t quite believe your unexpected appearance before him. You nodded enthusiastically while he absentmindedly handed his credit card to the cashier.

“Oh wow,” you breathed, feeling a little giddy. “I haven’t seen you since you quit all those years ago. What are you doing now?”

Nanami seemed to pause for a second, adjusting his sunglasses. “I work at a school.”

“Oh! As a teacher?” 

“No, just as staff.”

“That sounds nice. What school?”

“It’s a private religious school in the mountains. It’s not particularly well-known,” the man replied vaguely. 

“Oh, I see.”

A loud beep of a cell phone interrupted the conversation. Nanami reached into his other pocket and took out his phone. He frowned, looking at the device. “I apologize, but I have to go immediately.”

“Oh, uh, ok,” you said, feeling slightly disappointed. You barely had any time to catch up with your former coworker. Nanami grabbed the bag from the counter and swiftly exited the store. You watched him walk away with a sigh. What were the chances that you would bump into him again? You pouted, upset that the circumstances hadn’t exactly worked out in your favor.

“Oh no!” the cashier suddenly cried out. “He forgot his card!” She pointed at the blue credit card on the counter.

“Lemme see if I can catch him!” you responded, already running out of the bakery. You pushed open the door and ran in the direction you saw the man leave. “Nanami!” you shouted. Other pedestrians looked at you curiously, but you couldn’t see the tall man anywhere. You walked around a bit further out, continuing to call his name but to no avail. Sighing, you headed back to the bakery.

“No luck,” you said to the cashier. “He’s gone already. I have no idea how he disappeared so quickly.” Crossing your arms against your chest, you looked at the forgotten card in frustration. “What should we do now?” If only you had his number! 

“I guess I can keep it here in case he comes back,” the lady reasoned.

Hmm.  

An idea popped in your head. 

A selfish one.

“Wait! How about I take it and return it to him?” you asked. Then you realized that your request might come off as suspicious. “We used to work together, I promise I’m not trying to steal it or anything.”

The cashier smiled at you softly. “I trust you. You come in here quite a lot and that man did say your name, so I know you’re not lying.”

You sighed in relief.

Thank goodness.

After buying some pastries for yourself, you walked out of the bakery holding Nanami’s credit card in your hand. You carefully stored it in your bag before beginning the walk back to your apartment.

A private religious school in the mountains, huh?

It shouldn’t be too hard to find.

---

You groaned, fighting the urge to pull your hair in frustration. 

How hard was it to find this damn school?!

You were sitting at your desk in the dark. The only light in the bedroom came from your laptop screen which was full of search engine results for “tokyo private religious school”. You were on page 15. Not a promising sign.

Recalling your conversation with Nanami, you remembered the man said he worked at a religious school in the mountains. However, none of the private schools you had found so far were located in the mountains. You frowned. Had Nanami been lying?

You shook your head to yourself.

No. 

He’s not the type to lie. He did say it wasn’t well-known.

You scrolled further down and clicked on the next page. Quickly skimming the results, you finally found something that caught your eye. 

Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College.

Huh. What a strange name for a school.  

You clicked on the link. It brought you to a strange forum that looked somewhat sketchy and unreliable, but someone had at least posted an address for the school. You grabbed your phone and immediately plugged the address into the map app.

You punched the air in triumph.

“Yes!” The dot was located in the mountains by some Tokyo suburbs. 

This has to be the place!

Luckily, tomorrow was Friday which meant you had no classes, and you weren’t scheduled for a shift at work. You were free to find the school and return the card to Nanami in person. 

“Ok!” you said to yourself, rubbing your hands together. “Now to find out how to get there.”

---

You looked at the dot of your current location on your phone and then back at the vast empty woods in front of you.

This can’t be it!

You groaned out loud in frustration, stamping your feet in a little tantrum. 

Why is it still so hard to find this damn school?!  

Looking at your phone again, you double-checked the map to see that you were in fact at the exact location of the address you inputted, but nothing was here. It was just trees!

You sighed in disappointment but refused to give up right away. Maybe your phone’s GPS was off because you were so high up in the mountains and the signal was bad. You decided to follow the road that led up the mountain with the hope that you might accidentally stumble across the school. If there was a road, it had to lead somewhere! But strangely enough, you hadn’t seen any cars, buildings, or pedestrians since entering the area. 

After walking around for almost an hour, you decided to take a break. Sitting in the shade of some trees by the side of the road, you took your water bottle out of your bag for a quick sip. You admired the beautiful, quiet scenery in front of you.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

You were currently lost in the mountains of Tokyo looking for a school you weren’t quite sure actually existed. And it was all because you were selfish and wanted to see Nanami again. Your old coworker.

You hadn’t been particularly close to him at work, though he didn’t seem overly friendly with anyone in the office. Nanami was the stoic and serious type. He didn’t talk much with the team, but you could tell he worked hard. He was always one of the last people to leave the office for the night, if he did leave. On many occasions, you found him dozing at his desk in the morning when you arrived early to work before everyone else with the sneaking suspicion that he had spent the entire night in the office.

Unlike most of the other employees and especially your boss, Nanami seemed to still care about the clients instead of just the company’s profits, judging from the small snippets of conversations you overheard from him. You had always wanted to get to know him better, but he didn’t particularly have an approachable demeanor. At the time, you were just a young, newly graduated woman who was afraid of everything and everyone. So you often just kept to yourself.

You sighed, looking down at the ground. Taking Nanami’s credit card hostage was a pathetic way of trying to rekindle a relationship that never existed in the first place. You made up your mind. It was time to head back home and drop off the card at the bakery so he could pick it up himself. Today’s excursion was just a giant waste of time much to your disappointment.

“Excuse me, miss. What are you doing here?”

“Huh?” A man was hovering over you. You swore he hadn’t been there a second ago.

You screamed. “P-please don’t hurt me!” You put your arms out in front of you, shielding yourself from any potential harm. “I don’t have much money, but you can have it all!”

The man burst out laughing. You slowly lowered your arms, hoping that his laughter meant he wasn’t going to attack you.

“I’m not going to hurt you, and I especially don’t want your money.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.” No longer afraid, you took a closer look at the stranger. He was tall. Very tall. Wearing a black outfit and a matching blindfold that spiked up his white hair.

What a strange appearance.

“Well, I won’t hurt you as long as you tell me what you’re doing here.” You gulped, hearing the silent threat in his words.

“Umm, umm, well, you see I-I got a bit lost and w-was just taking a rest,” you stuttered nervously, fiddling with your hands. “I heard there’s a private school around here and I’m trying to find it, because I know someone who works there. His name is Kento Nanami and we used to work together many many years ago and I just happened to run into him last night at a bakery but he left his credit card there and I wanted to give it back to him in person, so I thought it was a good idea to deliver it at his workplace but this school is so hard to find I have no idea where I’m going and-and I think I’m just going to leave now actually.” You realized you were rambling, so you forcibly shut your mouth to stop yourself from looking like a complete fool in front of the stranger.

The man hummed in thought for several seconds before suddenly grinning and chuckling to himself. His demeanor no longer felt threatening.

“Kento Nanami, huh,” the man said, still smiling happily.

“Oh, you know him?” You perked up, suddenly hopeful.

Maybe they work together!

“Leave it to me!” the stranger cheered, giving you a thumbs up. “I’ll escort you to the school and make sure you hand-deliver that credit card to Nanami!”

You felt relieved, tears almost prickling your eyes. “Oh thank you so much!”

---

“Satoru.”

“Mm.”

“Can’t you tell there’s a human who has been wandering near the barrier for quite a while now? It looks like they’re trying to find a way in,” Yaga commented.

“Well, they can’t. Isn’t that the whole point of the barrier?”

“I know that!” the principal grunted angrily. “But since you’re just lounging here around doing nothing, go check it out.”

“Fine.” Gojo got off the couch and headed outside, wondering how a human accidentally wandered this close to the school so far up the mountains.

---

It only took several minutes before you and the strange man found a path leading to the school. You blinked in surprise. You felt like you had walked by this part of the road earlier but had seen nothing.

Walking alongside the man quietly, you suddenly realized you had completely forgotten your manners. Quickly bowing to your escort, you introduced yourself and thanked him for taking the time to safely bring you to the school.

“It’s no problem. Any friend of Nanami is a friend of mine. Oh, and I’m Satoru Gojo by the way. I’m the first-year teacher here.”

He was a teacher? This man wearing a blindfold in broad daylight? You swallowed nervously. You wondered what kind of school Nanami was working for exactly.

Once you finally reached the main school grounds, all of your reservations immediately melted away. “Wow!” you breathed. The campus was absolutely gorgeous with beautiful statues, shrines, and gates. You couldn’t help but stop and admire your surroundings. “This school is beautiful.”

Gojo brought you to the teacher’s lounge and gestured for you to sit down. “So, tell me again how you know our dear Nanami?”

---

Nanami had just finished a mission when his phone chimed, signaling a text. He finished wiping his blade clean before grabbing the device. The message was from Gojo.

Gojo: Come back to Jujutsu Tech. Your girlfriend is here ;)

The sorcerer stared at the message. 

Nanami: I have no idea what you mean.

Gojo: ( ˘ ³˘)♥

He angrily shoved his phone back in his pocket and walked over to the car where Ijichi was waiting. He entered the back seat before closing the door behind him. “Hurry up. I need to find a certain white-haired idiot and destroy him.”

---

Nanami was walking towards the teacher’s lounge when he heard your bright laughter. He froze for a couple of seconds.

What were you doing here?

He picked up the pace, quickly entering the lounge to see you giggling on the couch next to Gojo. For some reason, it bothered him to see how close the idiot was to you and how happy you looked in his presence.

“Nanami! You’re here!” Gojo exclaimed, immediately noticing the other sorcerer’s presence. 

You turned your head quickly towards the doorway with a bright grin. “Oh, Nanami! Hi again!”

Nanami observed the scene, trying to figure out what was going on, but he was drawing a blank. 

First of all, you weren’t a sorcerer. How did you enter the school grounds? 

Second, did you know Gojo? The two of you seemed quite friendly on the couch together. 

Third, was Gojo implying that you were his girlfriend? That was absolutely ridiculous.

“What are you doing here?” Nanami asked you cautiously, adjusting his sunglasses. 

“Oh!” You dug around in your bag, pulling out your wallet. You removed a blue credit card. “You left this behind at the bakery yesterday. I tried to chase after you, but you disappeared so quickly. I had the day off today, so I thought I would try to find your workplace and give your card back to you.” You got off the couch, approaching Nanami and handing him the card.

Nanami took the card from you before placing it back in his own wallet. “You didn’t have to do this. How did you even find your way here?”

“I found her wandering nearby!” Gojo jumped in, grinning at the other sorcerer. “Imagine my surprise when she said the two of you used to work together back when you were just a salaryman. I just had to invite her back here. You never mentioned you used to work with such a lovely lady.”

You visibly blushed at Gojo’s words which just bothered Nanami even more. “Thank you for returning my card, but I think it’s about time y—”

“Nanami. Nanami. Namami,” Gojo said in a singsong voice. “You’re all work and no fun. It’s been years since the two of you have seen each other, and you’re already trying to get rid of her? Don’t you want to catch up a little bit?”

You played with your hair, a little nervous. “I mean if you’re busy Nanami, I can go. But I was hoping we could talk a little bit.” You looked up at him with bright eyes. “I want to hear how you’ve been doing.”

Nanami took one look at your hopeful face and immediately gave in. “Alright.” He gestured for you to sit back down as he walked over to one of the armchairs. The sorcerer pretended like he didn’t see your little jump of excitement as you hurried back to the couch with Gojo.

Once the three of you were all seated comfortably, you brought up what you had been previously discussing with Gojo. “I didn’t know you’re teaching at the same high school you went to as a student. That’s pretty cool!”

“He was one of the few students who graduated and decided to leave the community,” Gojo pointed out. “Most of us stay here and continue working for the school.” Nanami subtly glared at the white-haired sorcerer, wondering how much he had told you about the jujutsu world.

“Why did you decide to come back then?” you asked curiously.

“I changed my mind,” Nanami simply stated. “I realized I would find my career slightly more rewarding if I worked for the school than that company.”

You nodded in agreement. “That makes sense. I’m glad we eventually both left that job.” You slightly grimaced, just thinking about your past. It didn’t go unnoticed by Nanami.

“When did you leave?” he asked.

You hummed, recalling the past. “It was probably a couple of months after you left. I, uh, messed up something really badly and I got fired.”

Nanami raised his eyebrows in surprise. You didn’t seem like the type to make big mistakes. He remembered you as quite the careful and diligent worker. He narrowed his eyes slightly, wondering if you were being deceitful.

“It’s ok though,” you continued. “I worked a couple of odd jobs afterward to keep up with the bills until I decided I wanted to become a nurse! So I’m actually back in school now and working part-time to help pay tuition.”

“A nurse, huh,” Gojo remarked. “What a noble career choice.”

“Ahh, I wouldn’t say I’m noble or anything. I just think I would find my life more fulfilling if I was actively helping people,” you explained. “Probably similar to how you felt when you switched careers, Nanami.”

He nodded at your words.

uThe three of you chatted amicably the rest of the day. Gojo and you mostly carried the conversation, but Nanami would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy listening to your voice. After he ran into you at the bakery last night, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. It was the first time he was confronted with his old life after deciding to become a sorcerer again. Part of Nanami wanted to never look back on that phase of his life again, but perhaps it wasn’t all bad. Sure, he hadn't particularly liked anyone from that office, but he didn’t mind you. You had always been quiet, polite, and hardworking. 

Nanami still remembered his last day at the office. You had organized a surprise farewell party just for him with a cake, balloons, and everything. After everyone had their fill of free food and left the conference room, you had shyly wished him luck in the future and said you would miss seeing him in the office. All those memories came rushing back after encountering you in that bakery.

The sun started to set when you finally noticed the time.

“Ah! I should probably go,” you announced, checking your phone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstay my welcome.”

“No, no,” Gojo assured. “You are very much welcome here. Like I said earlier, any friend of Nanami is a friend of mine and all my friends are welcome here!”

“How do you plan on getting home?” Nanami asked, mildly concerned.

“Don’t worry!” Gojo said. “I got it handled. Ijichi will drive her back.”

“Huh? No, it’s fine,” you tried to argue. “I can get back by myself. It’s not a problem.”

“What kind of gentlemen would we be if we didn’t ensure you got home safely? Ijichi is our finest chauffeur,” the blindfolded man insisted. “He will take care of you.”

You looked at Nanami who simply nodded at you, encouraging you to accept Gojo’s offer. Sighing, you crossed your arms over your chest with a pout. “Alright. Thank you.”

The two men waved goodbye as you left in Ijichi’s car to head back home.

“Was it really wise to have her on the school grounds?” Nanami asked.

Gojo hummed. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. Normal humans aren’t allowed here for a reason.”

The blindfolded sorcerer didn’t reply. Instead, he took out his phone and started tapping on the screen. Nanami’s phone chimed. It was a text from Gojo. Opening it, he saw it was a string of numbers.

A phone number.

“You should call her sometime,” Gojo said. “She likes you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. What kind of woman travels to the mountains on her day off to try and find a publically non-existent school to return a credit card to someone she doesn’t like?”

Nanami remained silent.

“Just because we’re adults and jujutsu sorcerers doesn’t mean we aren’t allowed to have some normal fun. It’s alright to be selfish every once in a while.”

How badly Nanami wanted to believe Gojo’s words.

---

You heard the door open and close.

“Hello! How many I help y—Gojo?”

You blinked in surprise, not expecting to see the teacher at your workplace. While taking classes to become a nurse, you worked part-time at a small boba tea shop. You had just finished serving the flurry of college students who needed a midday pick-me-up when Gojo appeared. Several of the seated patrons whispered and pointed at him, wondering why he was wearing a blindfold and how he could see.

“Thought I would drop by and say hi,” he said with an easy grin.

You returned his smile. “Is Nanami with you too?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

“No, not today, unfortunately,” he replied. You tried to ignore the flash of disappointment you felt. “I’ll bring him next time.”

You perked up at Gojo’s promise, nodding eagerly. “Sounds good. So, would you like something to drink?” 

The man ordered a large brown sugar milk tea with extra sugar. You looked at him, mildly concerned. “You sure you want 120% sugar? It’s pretty sweet to begin with. Trust me.”

Gojo nodded. “Yup!”

“Alright,” you said with a shrug. You did try to warn him. 

You finished preparing Gojo’s drink and handed it to him along with a straw.

“Hey, do you mind if I borrow your phone for a second?” the teacher asked.

“Oh, sure,” you said, grabbing your phone from your back pocket.

Gojo took the device and opened the camera app. “Smile!” That was the only warning you got. He had taken a selfie of the two of you together. You weren’t even smiling in the photo, completely caught off guard. But Gojo was at least prepared, grinning happily and showing off his milk tea in one hand. You watched as the man repeatedly tapped on your phone screen.

“What are you doing?” you asked hesitantly.

“Here!” Gojo handed the phone back to you. Looking at the screen, you saw that he had sent the selfie of the two of you to a random number with a text that said “Having fun without you!”

“Um. Who did you send this to Gojo?”

“Nanami, of course!”

“Oh,” you said quietly, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

Nanami’s number!

You finally had it! 

Gojo chuckled to himself as he saw the way your eyes lit up.

“Oh, by the way,” you said, looking up from the phone. “It’s my birthday next weekend. I’m going out with a couple of friends on Saturday at 8pm at the bar around the corner, and I was wondering if you and Nanami would like to join? You should bring Ijichi too and anyone else from the school! Only if you want though. It’s ok if you don’t want to come or you’re worried about being awkward with my other friends even though they’re super cool and encouraged me to invite you guys and I promise I won’t be upset if you can’t make it because this is kind of last minute and I—”

“Sounds great!” Gojo interrupted your rambling. “I’ll be sure to pass along the information. We'll be there.”

“Really?” You grinned at the teacher. “Awesome! I guess I’ll see you then!”

Gojo waved at you goodbye as you tried to compose yourself before the next wave of customers arrived.

---

“Ahh!! You guys actually came!” you squealed as a group of individuals approached your table in the bar. You stumbled out of the large booth where your other friends were seated, already several shots in for the night. You clumsily hugged Gojo without thinking. Releasing him, you took in his new appearance.

“You look so different!” you commented. “But not in a bad way!” The man had traded in his signature blindfold for a pair of sunglasses that still hid his eye. His hair was lying down flat instead of its usual spiked-up look.

Behind Gojo, you saw Ijichi with a woman you didn’t recognize. 

“That’s Shoko Ieiri,” Gojo said, following your gaze. “She’s the doctor at our school.”

You happily greeted both of them, thanking them for coming. 

And finally, you saw the person you were looking forward to seeing the most. Nanami looked good as always. He was dressed a little more casually for the night without his signature jacket, tie, and sunglasses. Instead, he wore a crisp, blue button-up shirt with the top few buttons undone. You tried not to stare too much at his revealed skin.

As you approached Nanami, you reached out to hug him but you managed to stop yourself in time. You were worried about coming on too strong and opted for a small wave instead.

“Thanks for coming, Nanami! I’m so glad you came!”

Sitting at the table altogether, your other friends immediately fawned over Gojo. One of them grabbed you and whispered in your ear.

“What the hell? You didn’t tell me one of your friends was incredibly hot?”

You shrugged and ordered another round of shots for the whole table. Gojo ended up passing because he didn’t drink, so you took it upon yourself to finish it for him.

Nanami quietly nursed a beer as he observed the scene. He didn’t typically like crowded, loud bars like this, but he would make an exception for you. Gojo had also been extremely intent on making sure everyone from the school attended your little celebration. He managed to get Ijichi to come along only after getting Shoko to agree by bribing her with free alcohol.

Nanami was currently sitting across the booth from you, watching as you chatted with your friends. You were wearing a dark red dress that perfectly showed off your curves. The left strap of your dress was a little loose and it kept falling down the entire night despite you constantly readjusting it, not that Nanami had noticed. 

You looked so carefree and lively in this atmosphere. Every once in a while, you caught Nanami’s gaze and beamed at him happily.

At some point during the night, you left the table to go to the bathroom. It was only once you tried walking back to everyone that you realized how drunk you were. Stumbling a bit in your high heels, you leaned against the wall by the bathrooms for stability.

“Excuse me miss, are you alright?”

A man approached you, but you instantly waved him off. “Mmm, I’m good,” you replied. “Thanks though.” You were determined to make it back to your friends on your own, but as soon as you took a step away from the wall, you tripped. The man caught you before you could hit the ground. He had a tight grip on your waist.

 “You don’t seem good,” he chuckled softly. “How about I help you?” You could feel his hands starting to go lower, and you quickly latched onto them and tried to pry them off you.

“I said no,” you said firmly, but the man ignored you and pressed you against the wall. “Get off!” You struggled against him but to no avail.

Suddenly, the weight of the man was lifted and you felt like you could breathe again.

“Are you alright?” a smooth voice asked. 

You looked up to see Nanami in front of you. You nodded silently and admired his strong jawline and sharp eyes in the bar’s dark lighting. 

“Can you walk?”

You nodded again. Taking a step away from the wall, you immediately staggered again much to your embarrassment. Nanami grabbed your arm and lifted you up until you were half leaning on him for support. Inhibitions suddenly gone from all the alcohol in your system, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and gave him a hug. The man tried to ignore the shiver that went up his spine when he felt your warm, soft body pressed up against him. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was quite jealous that you had hugged Gojo when they first arrived. What was so special about that idiot anyway? Nanami slowly wrapped his arms around you, indulging himself for once and returning the hug.

“I’m so glad you came,” you mumbled against his chest. “I was so happy that I ran into you at the bakery that one night. But I was afraid I would never see you again.” You paused. “I really wanted to see you again.”

Nanami didn’t know how to respond to your words, so he gently rubbed your back instead. You leaned into his touch happily.

“Let’s get back to the others,” he said gently. You sighed and reluctantly removed yourself from the embrace. Nanami half-carried you back to the table and carefully deposited you next to your friends. To your disappointment, he didn’t sit down next to you and instead headed towards the front doors.

“Nanami? Where are you going?” Gojo asked, eyebrows raised.

“I’ll be back.”

When Nanami exited the bar, he was greeted by several couples who were taking a smoke break. He walked a bit further away, so he could be alone. The sorcerer leaned against a random building, taking a deep breath and trying to calm himself down. 

Nanami felt quite ashamed of himself. Acting like a hormonal teenage boy just because he briefly held you while you were wearing that damn dress. He tried to ignore the way his cock was straining in his pants. Gritting his teeth, he willed his body to relax. Nanami refused to let you see him so worked like this. He especially couldn’t let Gojo see. He could only imagine the endless teasing he would endure from the blindfolded idiot.

Inside the bar, you watched sadly as Nanami left. You wondered if it was something you did to scare him away.

Gojo sat next to you and handed you a glass of water. “Drink,” he commanded.

You did as you were told, keeping an eye on the doors to see if Nanami had come back in yet. “Does Nanami not like me?” you asked Gojo quietly with a pout.

The man chuckled. “I assure you that’s not the case.”

You turned to look at him. “How do you know?”

Gojo lowered his sunglasses slightly, and you were able to get a glimpse of his gorgeous blue eyes for the first time. “Trust me. I have good eyes.”

---

Nanami ended the call with Ijichi. He leaned against the wall of the bathroom with a grimace. He was still applying pressure to the wound he had received from Mahito. The sorcerer scrolled through the contacts list on his phone. He found himself hovering over your name.

Yes, he did save your number from Gojo’s text. Why wouldn’t he? It would be frivolous to ignore that kind of contact information.

Nanami grabbed another wad of paper towel to replace the one that was already drenched in blood. He grunted in pain.

A nurse, huh.

He wondered what you would do if you saw him right now. If you fuss over him and take care of his injuries yourself. Nanami sighed. He wouldn’t mind that. Would you carefully unbutton his shirt to get a better look at the wound? He could almost imagine the way your fingers would ghost over his stomach.

With a groan, Nanami banged his head against the wall. He couldn’t believe he was fantasizing about you while profusely bleeding in a public restroom.

The sorcerer cleaned up his blood all over the sink and threw out the dirty wads of paper towels. He went outside to wait for Ijichi to bring him back to school for proper treatment.

---

“I’m going to take my break!” you announced to your coworkers as you exited the bubble tea shop. You decided to go outside for a quick breather because it was such a nice, sunny day. Avoiding the crowds, you headed over to the alleyways near the shop to scroll through Twitter in peace.

You were so engrossed by your phone that you didn’t notice the presence of someone next to you. It was only when you heard them clear their throat that you looked next to you to see a man wearing sunglasses and a hat.

“Oh, sorry. Am I in your way? I can move.”

In the blink of an eye, he held a knife to your neck. You felt the cool blade lightly press into your skin. You held your breath, afraid to react in any way.

“Don’t scream. Don’t move,” he hissed.

Your eyes widened in shock.

That voice.

You recognized that voice.

The man grabbed you by the back of the neck and pulled you in the opposite direction of the busy street where unaware pedestrians were still walking by. He pressed the knife against your side now, digging it into the thin t-shirt you had to wear for work.

“Walk.”

He led you to an abandoned building several minutes away. Once you were inside and the door closed shut, he roughly shoved you to the ground.

You landed in a heap, groaning in pain. Turning around, you finally faced your captor.

“It’s you, isn’t you,” you said evenly. “Boss.”

The man chuckled, removing the hat and sunglasses. It was your former boss from the company where you and Nanami had once worked together. You dug your nails in the palms of your hands. If he was here, you knew you were in trouble.

“You called the cops, didn’t you!” he yelled at you, pointing the knife at you menacingly.

Cops? What was he talking about?

“No, I didn’t,” you replied honestly.

“You BITCH! Don’t lie to me.” He waved the knife closer at you.

“I promise! I didn’t tell anyone!”

With a shout, the man grabbed your hair and held the knife to your neck again. You squeezed your eyes shut and couldn’t help but let a small whimper leave your lips.

The truth was you weren't just fired from your job. You were threatened. When numbers weren’t adding up, you realized that your boss was embezzling money and had been doing so for a long time. He found out that you knew the truth and protected himself by forcibly ousting you from the company. As a young professional, you knew better than to fight against a big shot financial executive. When he warned you to stay quiet or face his wrath, you were wise enough to shut your mouth, clean your desk, and leave the building immediately. True to your word, you had never mentioned your boss’s crimes to anyone. You thought you were safe to move on with the rest of your life but apparently, that was not the case.

The man spat at you before roughly kicking you away. He started pacing as you wiped his spit off your cheek with a disgusted groan.

“This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. I’m about to lose everything. EVERYTHING!”

As he muttered to himself, you tried to survey your surroundings and determine if there was a way you could safely escape. Before you could figure anything out, your old boss approached you again, knife still in hand. He seemed to have made up his mind about what he was going to do.

“You’re going to fix this. Yea. This is your fault. I’ll pin it all on you. You’ll go down for this, not me!”

As the man ranted and raved at you, something appeared in the shadows behind him. There was some movement. You blinked your eyes, wondering if it was just a trick of your imagination. But to your horror, a green creature grew larger and larger in the background. It had three heads, each with multiple eyes and giant drooling mouths with huge teeth. The monster raised its multiple arms, hovering over your boss with all eyes fixed on him like he was a piece of prey.

“Scared, aren’t you?” the man commented with a chuckle. He was misinterpreting the horrified look on your face. “This is what you get for messing with the wrong man.”

You shook your head slowly and lifted a shaky finger to point behind him.

He turned around, dropping the knife in shock.

The weapon clattered to the ground.

Your boss screamed. He immediately tried to run away, but one of the monster’s arms snatched him in a tight grip. The three heads fought with each other as if deciding which one of them would get to swallow the prize. You took that as a cue to start running.

The monster was blocking the way you entered, so you ran towards the only other door you saw, which led to a stairwell. You ran up a couple of floors before hiding in a small closet you found. It was cramped and dusty but you hoped it was enough to hide you from that creature.

Sitting on the ground, you took out your phone shakily and called the police.

“Hello, what is your emergency?”

“I’m trapped in an abandoned building, and there’s a monster here.” You realized it sounded ridiculous, but you didn’t know what else to say in the moment.

The dispatcher groaned. “This is the last time! You kids have to stop with the prank calls. This line is for emergencies only!”

They hung up on you.

You stared at your cell phone in disbelief.

Shit.

Instinctively, you scrolled through your contacts list until you found who you were looking for. You pressed the call button.

Please pick up. Please pick up.

It went to voicemail.

You cursed to yourself again.

“Nanami,” you whispered quietly, voice quivering. “I don’t know when you’ll listen to this, but you have to believe me. I’m in an abandoned building near my job, and I swear there’s a monster here. I-I think it might have killed our old boss. I don’t know what to do, I tri—”

There was a loud bang. You quickly hung up and pressed the phone into your chest while you covered your mouth and nose with your other hand to quiet your harsh breathing. The sounds got closer and closer until it sounded like it was right outside the closet door. Your heart was beating so loudly you were worried the monster would hear it. But luckily, the noises started to become fainter. Eventually, you heard nothing even after a long time of terrified waiting.

Once you were reasonably convinced the coast was clear, you quietly opened the closet door and peeked out. The hallway was empty. Maybe this was your chance to finally escape the building.

You carefully climbed to your feet and tiptoed your way back to the stairwell. 

Your phone loudly chimed. The noise echoed throughout the empty building. It was a text message from your coworker asking where you went. You had forgotten to turn your phone on silent.

Almost instantaneously, the monster started roaring from the floor beneath you. You barely caught a glimpse of it before running up the stairs again until you reached the top floor. Exiting the stairway, you ran through the hallways until you reached a dead end.

Back pressed up against the wall, you watched in horror as the monster let out a sharp laugh as it approached you. There was blood dripping out of the mouths of all three heads. You didn’t want to think about where it came from. With no other options left, you weakly held your arms up in front of your face and squeezed your eyes shut with a whimper.

Suddenly, there was an angry shout and a loud splat.

You felt some sort of liquid splash all over you. Lowering your arms, an unexpected sight greeted you. It was the body of the monster all chopped up into pieces. You realized you were covered in its blood.

Behind the monster’s corpse stood Nanami. He had a covered blade in his hand that was also stained with the creature’s purple blood.

“N-Nanami?” you whispered hoarsely.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. Did he take down that monster? With a sword?

Nanami wiped the blood off his weapon, putting it away in its holster. He approached you as you shuddered violently, still in shock.

“Are you hurt?” he asked gently.

You shook your head no, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He kneeled down in front of you, taking out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping the droplets of blood from your face.

“What was that thing?” you whispered.

Nanami sighed, twisting the handkerchief in his hands once your face was relatively clean.

“A curse.”

You gave him a confused look.

“It’s a long explanation.”

“Yo!”

You flinched as Gojo suddenly appeared out of nowhere in the hallway. You instinctively grabbed onto Nanami’s arm in fear. He glared at the blindfolded sorcerer in anger for startling you.

“Oh, you’re already done here? I thought I’d check up on you two to make sure everything’s okay.”

First, your boss had threatened you with a knife. Then, a giant monster, no, curse appeared and attacked both of you. Nanami killed said curse. And now Gojo had appeared out of thin air. Your brain was officially broken. You just wanted to go to sleep. Surely this had to be a dream. You would wake up and everything would be normal again.

“We should probably bring her to Shoko just to make sure she’s fine and clean her up,” Gojo said, observing how your eyes were starting to glaze over.

Nanami nodded in agreement. He lightly touched your shoulder, but you hardly reacted. He said your name quietly. Blinking slowly, you finally turned to acknowledge him. “I’m tired,” you mumbled.

“I know,” Nanami said gently. He picked you up in his arms. “You can go to sleep. I’ll keep you safe.” With a sigh of relief, you closed your eyes and surrendered to the darkness.

You woke up in a small room, tucked under the covers in a warm bed. Nanami was silently sitting in a chair next to you. You let out a deep breath and turned towards the man. The rustling of the covers alerted him that you were finally awake.

“Why was the boss with you?” Nanami asked suddenly.

So it wasn't a dream.

“Oh. He was trying to threaten me,” you explained. “I didn’t lose my job because I made a mistake. I found out he was embezzling money. He said the cops were starting to question him, so he accused me of reporting him.”

Nanami clenched his fists in anger. That bastard.

“Is he alive?” you asked.

“No.”

“I figured.”

You quietly observed Nanami. He had taken off his sunglasses and blazer. You admired his wide shoulders and the way his tie was slightly loosened. 

“Nanami. What do you actually do?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to tell you.”

You gripped the covers. “Why not?”

“Because,” Nanami sighed. “It’s a dangerous profession. You don’t need to be dragged into this world for no good reason.”

“What do you mean?” You didn’t understand what he was saying. “I do have a reason. It’s you.”

The man didn’t respond.

You sat up in bed suddenly. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll ask Gojo.” You started to climb out of bed, but Nanami stopped you.

“Fine. Fine. I’ll tell you. Sit back down.” He let out of a deep breath, rubbing his face.

You silently listened as Nanami discussed the existence of curses, the theories behind cursed energy, and the role of jujutsu sorcerers. He explained how the school’s true purpose was to train the next generation of sorcerers and act as the main headquarters for all jujutsu-related activities. 

You only asked one question. “Why was I able to see that curse?”

“Regular humans can see them in life or death situations.”

“I see.”

Nanami was surprised at your reaction to learning about cursed spirits thus far. He expected you to ask more questions, to be more doubtful, to laugh and call him an idiot, or to scream and accuse him of being crazy. But you did none of those things. You just listened quietly and accepted everything he said as true. 

In your heart, you knew there was no reason to doubt Nanami. You were trying to wrap your brain around the existence of curses you couldn’t see, but you didn’t consider that the sorcerer was lying to you for a single second. He wasn’t that kind of person.

Nanami abruptly stood up. “Ijichi will drive you back home.” He started to walk away from you, but you quickly grabbed his wrist.

“Wait, don’t go,” you pleaded, eyes wide. “I haven’t thanked you for saving me yet. Thank you, Nanami.” You didn't want him to leave you. Not yet. You didn't want to be alone.

The sorcerer refused to look at you. “I think it’s best if you kept your distance from Gojo, me, and this school.”

“What?” you breathed. “What are you saying? I-I won’t tell anyone about curses or that you’re a sorcerer if that’s what you’re worried about. I promise.”

“That’s not it. I already told you. This world is dangerous. You should stay away.” He paused. “Stay away from me.”

You flinched, releasing Nanami’s wrist. The sorcerer walked out of the room without another word. You didn’t call out after him.

As Nanami walked away, he knew he made the right decision. There was no reason for you to get involved with the jujutsu world. He wanted you to live a normal life, not one plagued by constant death and despair. He was doing this for you. For your future and your safety.

“It’s alright to be selfish every once in a while.”

Gojo’s words echoed in his mind.

No. This wasn’t about him. It was about you. It wasn’t right for him to drag you into his world. He should be happy. Happy that you would eventually move on and live a long, successful life.

But why did he feel so sad instead?

---

Numerous opened textbooks and notebooks were scattered around you on your bed. You had an upcoming exam at the end of next week and were in the midst of cramming a semester’s worth of information in your head.

There was a knock on the door.

You frowned, carefully getting off the bed and walking over to the door. You weren’t expecting any visitors or a delivery today. Looking through the peephole, you gasped. You clutched your hands against your chest, trying to calm your frantically beating heart.

What was he doing here?

You hadn’t talked to or seen Nanami since your last conversation with him at Jujutsu Tech. And that hadn't ended well. You respected his request to stay away from him and Gojo, making no attempts to contact either of the two sorcerers. Instead, you had thrown yourself into your schoolwork and picked up some extra shifts at the boba shop. The less free time you had to think about your emotions, the better.

But now the man who still weighed heavily on your heart was at your doorstep. You wondered whether or not to pretend you weren’t home, but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn him away. He had clearly come here for a good reason and you wanted to know why, especially because he was the one that told you to keep your distance from him.

You unlocked the door and opened it slightly.

“Nanami.”

He said your name quietly.

The two of you looked at each other in complete silence. You waited for him to say something, but the man just continued to stand there without a word.

“Umm, well, I have an exam I need to study for, so if you have nothing to say I’m just going to g—”

Nanami suddenly pushed the door open wider, shoving you into your apartment. You stood there in shock as the door slammed shut behind the sorcerer. His unusually aggressive behavior had you baffled.

“What’s wrong with you?” you asked sharply. The man told you to leave him alone but then showed up at your apartment and invited himself inside without a word. You couldn’t help but feel a little irritated. “What are you do— mmph!”

Nanami had pushed you against the wall and kissed you.

You froze in surprise for a second before immediately kissing him back fervently.

One of his hands had settled on your waist while the other was pressed against the wall by your head. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed him closer to you, unable to get enough of this man. Nanami eventually left your lips, causing you to groan in frustration before he attacked your neck with wet kisses. You panted heavily, brain suddenly fuzzy as you tried to process that this was actually happening.

“W-what happened to staying away?” you breathed as Nanami sucked on a particularly sensitive spot that left you weak.

“I changed my mind,” he muttered against your skin before continuing to attack your neck.

After Itadori had saved him from Mahito’s domain, Nanami realized he had been given a second chance. He didn’t want to live a life without regret, especially as a sorcerer. So he decided to heed Gojo’s advice for once. 

He wanted to be a little selfish. 

He wanted you.

Nanami pressed his forehead against yours as he rubbed his hands up and down your soft curves. You breathed heavily, trying to catch your breath as you got lost in his dark gaze. 

“Bedroom,” you whispered. Nanami nodded and quickly released you, so you could guide him to your room. 

As soon as you entered the bedroom, you inwardly cursed. In the heat of the moment, you had completely forgotten what you had been doing before Nanami arrived. “Uh, sorry, let me clean up real quick.”

What a way to kill the mood!

Nanami didn’t seem to mind. He looked fairly amused as you swiftly closed all the books on your bed and haphazardly tossed them on the ground. Once the bed was finally cleared, you turned around to face Nanami, but he was already one step ahead of you. He gently pushed you on the bed, so you landed on your back as he hovered over you. Your breath caught in your throat as you admired the man in front of you. He was absolutely perfect. 

Nanami played with the hem of your shirt. Taking the hint, you sat up a little and swiftly removed your shirt and bra, throwing them in the corner of your room. Nanami let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as you took in your body. You fought the urge to cover yourself, feeling slightly embarrassed at how intensely the man was looking at you.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed as you flushed in response. He reached out with both his hands to start kneading your breasts. You moaned as he began playing with your nipples that were already hard from excitement. Nanami removed his hand from your left breast and replaced it with his mouth. You squirmed underneath him in pleasure as he lapped and sucked on your nipple. Once he was satisfied with his work, the sorcerer switched to your other breast to give it the same treatment. With every flick of his tongue, you could feel electricity run through your body. You only craved his touch more and more.

Nanami started kissing down the valley of your breasts to your stomach. He eventually reached the hem of your shorts. “May I?” he asked.

You nodded, unable to trust your voice at the moment.

As he started tugging down your shorts, you lifted your hips to assist him. The garment was carelessly tossed to the ground. Immediately, Nanami could see how soaked your underwear was with your own arousal. His dick twitched in his pants. The sight of you so wet and eager from his touch alone only heightened his lust for you.

You practically sighed in relief when Nanami removed your underwear, fully exposing yourself to him. The heat from your core was overwhelming. You needed him to touch you and relieve some of that pressure before you lost your mind. A single finger stroked your folds, already slick with arousal. You gasped while Nanami groaned, enjoying how wet you already were for him.

“I’ve barely touched you and you’re like this already,” Nanami teased. You panted, trying to grind yourself on his hand for more friction, more pressure, more anything. He chuckled seeing how desperate you were for his touch. The sorcerer finally reached your swollen nub and rubbed it leisurely. You immediately cried out, arching your hips into man’s touch.

“Fuck,” you cursed as pleasure surged throughout your veins. Your eyes were squeezed tight as Nanami continued to play with your clit. You were so distracted by his fingers that you barely registered the hot breath near your entrance. It was only when a wet tongue began to prod into you that you realized what was happening.

With a gasp, your eyes flew upon to see Nanami’s head comfortably settled between your legs as he licked at your cunt without restraint. The sight of him eating you out only stoked the raging fire inside you. You buried one of your hands in Nanami’s hair as he worked diligently to get you off. The way he lapped at your fluids and sucked at your entrance had you moaning and quivering uncontrollably. 

“You taste so good,” he groaned against your folds as you barely registered his words.

A familiar pressure was building in your body. As it got stronger and stronger, you couldn’t stop your legs from thrashing about. With a growl, Nanami locked his arms around your legs to keep them as still. It only took a gentle suck to your swollen clit for the tension in your body to finally snap. Mouth opened wide in a silent scream, you writhed around on the bed as you finally reached your peak. 

Your mind was completely emptied while white-hot pleasure overtook your entire body. You swore you could see stars behind your eyes. As you rode out the last waves of your orgasm, Nanami eagerly slurped up your release, refusing to let a single drop go to waste.

Once you came down from your high, you released Nanami’s hair and laid back on the bed with a sigh. He removed himself from between your legs. Your fluids still covered his face, and his normally styled hair was a complete mess from your grip. Just the sight of him was enough to cause another spark of desire to flare between your legs. This man was going to be the death of you.

“Holy fuck, Nanami,” you breathed.

“Kento,” he replied, wiping his mouth clean on his sleeve. “Call me Kento.”

You flushed. Saying his first name felt incredibly intimate. 

“Kento.” 

He grunted with approval and then began to unbutton his shirt. You licked your lips as his broad shoulders and wide chest were finally revealed to you. He was incredibly well-built with defined muscles and abs, but a number of scars littered his body. Some looked quite fresh while others were old and almost completely faded.

This was the body of a jujutsu sorcerer.

You now understood why Nanami warned you that the jujutsu world was unsafe. You couldn’t imagine the suffering behind all those wounds. Perhaps one day he would be willing to share his pain with you, so you could understand his world.

You wanted to rub your hands up and down Nanami’s bare chest, but he moved out of your reach to start fiddling with his belt. Eyes lowering, you swallowed nervously as you stared at the large bulge that greeted you. Nanami slid down his pants and underwear in one go, erect cock finally released from its confines and bobbing in the air slightly.

The sight of him was both mouthwatering and intimidating. You admired the bulging veins and the bits of pre-cum that were already leaking out from the tip. He wasn’t excessively long, but he was incredibly thick. You nervously wondered if you would be able to handle his impressive girth.

You wanted to touch and taste him, but Nanami wasn’t interested. He gently pushed away your eager hands and instead spread open your legs once again. At the moment, he was more concerned about prepping you than chasing after his own pleasure.

He pressed one finger into your entrance, groaning as your walls greedily sucked him inside. You gasped, clenching around him. With how easily you were able to take one finger, Nanami slipped a second into you. It didn’t hurt, but you could feel your cunt stretching around them as they thrust in and out of you. Nanami’s fingers were so thick and long that you already felt so full.

“You’re so tight,” Nanami hissed as you got lost in pleasure once again. He pushed those two fingers in and out of you, occasionally scissoring them to loosen you up. You could hear how wet you were as he continued prepping you to take his cock. Nanami moved his fingers at just the right angle to hit a spot that had you instantly moaning and clenching around him. But he suddenly removed himself from you which had you whining at the sudden loss of contact, feeling empty. However, you stopped complaining as you watched Nanami stroke his dick, spreading your fluids and his pre-cum all over himself.

“Are you on birth control or do I need a con—”

“I’m on birth control,” you cut him off impatiently. “Hurry up. I want you inside me.”

Nanami didn’t keep you waiting much longer. He lined himself at your entrance and slowly began to push in. It wasn’t painful, but you still gasped as your walls stretched to accommodate his girth. The sorcerer immediately cursed when his tip entered you. You were so hot and tight around his cock that it took all his self-restraint not to immediately ram his full length into you. With slow, shallow strokes, you were able to accommodate more and more until his entire cock was buried inside you.

You felt so incredibly full. Your hand gripped the blanket on your bed to anchor yourself as you tried to get used to the sensation of being stuffed with Nanami’s dick. He tried to remain still above you, waiting for your signal. Eventually, you met his gaze and gave a little nod. He sweetly kissed you on the lips before he started to move.

Nanami started at a slow pace afraid to hurt you at first, but he eventually settled into a rhythm that had you moaning his name over and over again. You were so wet that he slid in and out of you effortlessly, rubbing against your walls in a way that had you seeing stars again. You had wrapped your legs against his waist, allowing him to enter you even deeper. 

You were almost babbling nonsense at this point, unaware of exactly what you were saying as your mind was just consumed by pleasure. “Fuck. Kento. You’re so big,” you whined. “Faster. Harder. D-don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

Nanami adjusted the angle of his thrusts until he finally found the spot that had you gasping and clenching down on him again. He groaned, making sure to continue hitting the same exact spot with strong, fast thrusts at just the right tempo. “You’re so perfect. Looking at you, taking my cock so well,” he growled.

The pressure was building again. Everything was so overwhelming. The lewd, wet noises of your bodies moving together. The way Nanami growled praises of you in your ear. The muscles on his back rippling with exertion underneath your wandering hands. You just needed that one final push.

One of your hands sneaked down to rub your clit, but Nanami pushed it away and pressed his thumb against your swollen nub instead. Just a couple of strokes had you reaching your peak again. You clenched down so hard around Nanami that his hips stuttered, groaning loudly in your ear. You were completely consumed by wave after wave of pleasure. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t hear. You couldn’t see. All you could register was the pure bliss that racked your entire body, leaving you gasping and shuddering.

Nanami continued to fuck you through your orgasm, ramming his cock into you over and over again. His thrusts had become more frantic and uneven, chasing his own climax after you started to come down from yours.

“Where should I cum?” he groaned with gritted teeth.

You wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him down closer to you.

“Cum inside me,” you panted against his ear.

He groaned. You were perfect. Absolutely perfect.

With a couple of more thrusts, Nanami completely buried himself inside you when he flooded your cunt with his cum. He remained inside for several more moments to catch his breath before finally removing himself from you. You slightly winced as his cock brushed past your sensitive walls. Nanami couldn’t help but admire the way his cum slowly dribbled out of you.

He laid down next to you as you both began to calm down. No words were needed between the two of you. The silence was comfortable as you cuddled against his chest. Nanami rubbed your back absentmindedly as you hummed in delight.

Eventually, the two of you got out of bed and cleaned up. The textbooks and notebooks haphazardly thrown on your floor were ignored for the rest of the day. You thought you deserved a break anyways. The two of you ate dinner together, cuddled on the couch while watching a movie, and went at it again for another round before settling down to go to sleep.

You were passed out next to Nanami, completely worn out from the day’s activities and normal sleep deprivation you had as a student. Your heavy breathing was the only sound in the tiny apartment. It strangely calmed Nanami just listening to you. He turned towards you and stroked your hair affectionately. 

A part of Nanami still worried if he had made the right choice with you. He was still concerned about your safety and well-being. Would he only bring you more grief if you constantly agonized over his dangerous missions as a jujutsu sorcerer? 

He let out a quiet sigh. He knew he would have regretted it if he continued to push you away. And if he was going to be a sorcerer, he wanted to be a sorcerer with no regrets. 

Nanami only hoped that he would never cause you any pain and anguish because of his profession. It was rare for sorcerers and non-sorcerers to find happiness as a couple. But perhaps the two of you would be an exception.

He prayed the two of you would be an exception.

---

“Welcome! How may I help y—oh!” You blinked in surprise as three individuals walked into the small boba shop.

Gojo waved at you with an easy grin. Nanami stood next to him as handsome and stoic as ever, but there was a new face behind them. He looked like a high schooler.

The blindfolded teacher wrapped his arms around the boy’s shoulder and pointed at him. “Meet Yuji Itadori! One of our first-year students!”

“Oh, it’s nice to meet you,” you said introducing yourself.

The boy tilted his head, looking at you curiously. “How do you know Gojo-sensei and Nanamin?”

Nanamin?

You chuckled at the cute nickname. 

“I told you to stop calling me that, Itadori,” Nanami replied, clearly bothered.

“Well, I’m…” you hesitated. You didn’t know what to say. A friend? An ex-coworker? A normal person who couldn't see curses but knew about their existence?

“She’s Nanami’s girlfriend!” Gojo exclaimed to your horror. You immediately flushed and looked to Nanami for him to clarify, but he didn’t react. He glared at the blindfolded sorcerer as per usual but didn’t refute the statement. Your eyes widened in realization. 

“Uh, y-yeah,” you stammered. “I guess I am.”

“Nanamin has a girlfriend!?” Itadori gasped. He had even more respect for his mentor now.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Nanami growled much to your amusement.

You took their orders and began to prepare the drinks. Nanami and Idatori were talking in the corner while Gojo hung out at the counter near you. You had just finished sealing the drinks when the teacher explained something to you.

“Oh, by the way, Yuji is supposed to be dead so be sure to not mention his existence to anyone else.”

You almost dropped the drink you were holding. “Um, okay.” You thought it was better not to ask questions.

Gojo thanked you as he took his drink from your hand and grabbed a straw for himself. “Yo! Nanami! Yuji! Grab your drinks and let’s head out!”

Itadori followed Gojo out the door once he had his milk tea, but Nanami stayed behind.

“I meant it.”

“Huh?” you asked, cleaning the counter with a rag.

“I want you to be my girlfriend.”

You blinked, processing his words. A bright smile grew on your face. “Well, according to Gojo, I’m already your girlfriend.”

Nanami let out a rare chuckle and flashed you a small smile. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Goodbye!” You waved as he left the shop.

Your coworker came out of the back room, looking at you suspiciously. “Why are you so smiley?” She looked around the empty shop. “There’s no one here.”

“Oh, no reason," you replied with a hum.

[triptuckers]

Drunken words - Kaz Brekker

Request: yes "Hi, I have just binge read almost all of your shadow and bone one shots and was wondering if you could do one where f!reader goes out drinking with Nina and when she comes back drunk she accidentally confesses her love for Kaz but doesn’t remember it when she wakes up and Kaz doesn’t mention it but he also loves her?" Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader Summary: You wake up with a pounding headache and some very vague memories of the night before. Luckily Nina is there to help you remember Warnings:  mentions of alcohol/drinking, language Word count: A/N: mmm see this? this request right here? I like it 😌 thanks for requesting it! TAG LIST (grishaverse): @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15 @dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha @story-scribbler @romanoffstarkovs @daliareads @meiitanoia @itsnotquimey @sanktaesperanza @whymyparentscheckmyphone @aleksanderwh0r3 @ilovemarvelanne1 @marlenaisnthappy @brekker-zenik @just-deka @graceknxwlson @the-very-tired-mess TAG LIST (kaz brekker): @mufnasa @Janesofia7 @stairscortana @parker-natasha @illicitghosts @brick-by-brick553 add yourself to my tag lists here

Every last Friday of the month, you go out for drinks with Nina. It's a tradition you started a while back. You'd gotten back from a particular rough job, and Nina suggested to go and have a drink. The others were tired, so you were the only one to accompany her. Ever since, the two of you go out every last Friday of the month.

Sometimes you both make it back in time, sometimes you don't show up til morning. And sometimes you're leaning heavily on each other, giggling and laughing.

The crows didn't mind now, though they were a bit concerned at the beginning. But after you showed them that even drunk, Jesper is only a slightly better shot than you are, they trusted you to come back home alright.

On one Friday night, you and Nina stumble into the kitchen of the Slat somewhere around 2 am. You're surprised to see it's not empty.

Kaz is sitting in one of the chairs, and he looks up when you and Nina try to silently enter the building. You fail when you stumble and squeal as you hold on to Nina's arm to prevent yourself from falling.

Nina seemed to be less drunk than you are. At least she can stand on her own feet.

Kaz' eyes follow you as Nina drags you to the kitchen to get you a glass of water, hoping it would sober you up a little.

You hop on the counter and take the glass from Nina without protest. When you look at Kaz, you see he's turned his gaze away from you.

'Aren't you going to ask if we had fun?' you say, pouting slightly.

Kaz looks at you. You're wearing a dress that's only reserved for nights out with Nina. You're also wearing heels and though you'd styled your hair nicely before you went out, it's now messy as it falls over your shoulders.

'You look like you had fun.' says Kaz. 'But I'll ask anyway. Did you have fun?'

'Yesss.' you say, dragging out the word. You don't look up when Nina puts a new glass of water in your hand.

'You should come sometimes.' you say to Kaz.

He merely raises an eyebrow, and doesn't answer you.

'I don't think Kaz is the type of person who goes out a lot.' says Nina.

'But it's fun!' you say somewhat offendedly. 'If anyone needs to let loose every once in a while, it's Kaz.'

'How so?' says Nina, chuckling.

'His jaw is always clenched.' you point out.

'No it's not.' says Kaz.

You nod, smiling happily. 'Yea it is! Don't think I wouldn't notice, I look at you a lot.' you say.

'Do you, now?' says Kaz, not paying much attention to you, as you're drunk and probably not aware of what you're saying.

'Most of the time. All of the time.' you say. 'Just a lot, really.'

'You're drunk, Y/N.' says Kaz. 'You should go to bed.'

'Night's not over yet!' you say and you jump off the counter, spilling some of the water on yourself. 'We could still go out! You should join us, Kaz.'

'I think you should go to bed, Y/N.' says Nina.

You glare at her over your shoulder. 'Buzz killer.' you say.

Nina puts up her hands in defence. 'I'm just saying tonight I'm not going out anymore, I'm going to bed. And you should too.' she says.

When she walks past you, she gives you a new glass of water. You're not aware of taking it, but you drink half of it anyway.

'Nina, you should stay.' you say when she walks to the door. 'Don't leave me alone with Kaz!'

'Why not?' says Kaz immediately, his curiosity getting the better of him.

You turn to him, then back to Nina. 'Nina! Don't leave me alone with Kaz, you know I say stupid shit when I'm drunk!' you say.

She looks over her shoulder. 'You say a lot of things when you're drunk, Y/N. At least drunk words are sober thoughts.' she says as she walks away.

'Nina come back! I might end up exposing myself!' you say.

This makes Nina stop and turn around. She looks at you and frowns.

'Expose yourself how?' she says.

'I might tell Kaz I love him.' you whisper, loud enough for everyone to hear.

You see Nina's eyes go wide. Before you can say anything, or turn around to look at Kaz, Nina's marched up to you, grabbed a hold of your arm and is pulling you up the stairs.

In the doorway, you look over your shoulder at Kaz.

There's an odd expression on his face you can't quite read, you've never seen it before. He doesn't look at you as you start to walk up the stairs with Nina's help.

You barely register anything after that moment, the exhaustion suddenly kicking in. You fall down on your bed without even taking your heels off.

The next morning, you wake with a pounding headache despite all the water Nina made you drink. You push yourself up in a sitting position and rub your head.

None of the crows had been so stupid to wake you. Everyone knew the last Friday of the month was spent drinking, and the morning after it would be unwise to wake you or Nina before noon.

After stripping off your tight dress and heels, you take a hot bath, scrubbing all of the sweat of last night off of your skin.

You get dressed in comfortable clothes and head downstairs to get a big cup of coffee.

But when you want to enter the kitchen, you are met by Nina standing in the doorway.

'Oh good, you're up.' she says.

'Morning.' you say. 'How's your headache?'

'Almost over.' she says. 'Don't go into the kitchen.'

'Why not?' you say, frowning.

'Because Kaz is there.' says Nina.

'What, is he in a bad mood or something?' you say.

'No. But he hasn't said anything all morning.' she says.

'So he's normal.' you say, pushing past Nina.

She attempts to stop you, but you walk away from her, straight to the fresh pot of coffee. You pour yourself a generous amount of it, and then sit at the same table Kaz is sitting at.

He looks at you, but doesn't say anything.

'You good?' you say after a while. 'I'm sure that's the longest you've ever looked at me. Have I got something on my face?'

Kaz shakes his head.

'Then why are you looking at me like that?' you say.

'Do you remember anything from last night?' asks Kaz.

You squint your eyes, trying to remember.

'Nina and I played card games with some Zemeni tourists. They lost. Then we lost. Then we lost again. I don't think I threw up, though. I remember walking back to the Slat and going to bed.' you say.

'That's all?' says Kaz.

'Yeah, I think that's it.' you say. 'Why?'

'Just curious.' says Kaz.

'You're never just curious, Kaz, you always have a reason. What's this all about?' you say.

'Fine.' he says. 'I have a bet with Jesper, how much you would remember. It appears he needs to pay me.'

He gets up and without another word, he leaves the room. Your eye catches Nina's gaze and you shrug, turning back to your coffee.

'Did I do something stupid last night?' you say. Most of the times when you got drunk, you did stupid stuff. You wonder if last night would have been any different.

'Well.' says Nina as she sits down in front of you. 'That depends.'

'On what?' you say as you finish your coffee.

'You should talk to Kaz about that.' says Nina. 'He doesn't have a bet with Jesper.'

'Then why would he leave like that?' you say.

'Again, you should talk to him about that.' says Nina.

'What aren't you telling me, Nina?' you say.

You see her debating wether or not she should tell you.

'Tell me or I'll tell everything how horrible you dance when you get drunk.' you threaten.

'You told kaz you love him.' she blurts out.

Your eyes widen. 'Oh no.' you say. 'No, no, no, I did not. Fuck.'

'Well, you didn't exactly tell him. You told me not to leave you alone because you might end up telling him.' says Nina

You bury your face in your hands. 'Oh, Saints, this is bad.' you say. 'This is really fucking bad.'

'How so?' says Nina.

'He's still technically our boss, Nina. And there's no way he has the same feelings for me.' you say.

'You won't know unless you ask him.' says Nina.

'What would I even say to him?' you say.

Nina shrugs. 'Well you could sit here thinking about it, or go up to his office and talk to him.' she says.

You shake your head and rub a hand over your face. 'Fuck.' you mutter. 'You're probably right.'

'I always am, darling.' says Nina.

You finish your cup of coffee and get up. Nina gestures for you to start walking. You head to the stairs and walk them as slowly as you can.

Would he be mad? What if things would forever be awkward between the two of you? Maybe if you were fast, you could still take it back. You were drunk, you could tell him you didn't mean it.

You stop in front of the door to Kaz' office. You determinedly raise a hand to knock on it, but your fist only hovers mid-air.

'It helps if you actually knock.'

You jump slightly at the sound of a voice. When you turn around, you see Kaz standing behind you.

'Or you could just go in if you have a key.' he says, walking up to the door and pulling out his key.

You're at loss for words, watching as Kaz opens the door and head inside. You're still standing in the doorway when Kaz looks up.

'You can come in, you know.' he says.

You enter his office and slowly close the door. He did not seem bothered by last night at all.

'We need to talk.' you say.

Kaz looks at you and merely raises an eyebrow at you. He gestures to the chair in front of his desk and you sit down.

'About last night.' you say. 'Nina told me what I said. I didn't say it to you, but, well I might as well have. I was drunk and it was stupid, and I'm here to apologise.'

He looks at you and then he starts to smile. Your eyes widen a bit, you'd never seen Kaz smile. Let alone smile at you.

'Are you okay?' you say hesitantly.

'Y/N, I wasn't in my office when you got here because I was at your door.' says Kaz, his words taking you by surprise.

'Why?' you wonder out loud.

'I was going to bring you a glass of water, Nina once told me it helps when you're hungover.' says Kaz.

Your lips part in surprise. 'You were?' you say.

'That saying Nina said last night, drunken words are sober thoughts? Well, I'm glad your drunken self decided to speak the truth last night.' says Kaz.

You stare at him, not sure you heard it correctly. Kaz pulls a stack of papers toward him and begins to read through them. He doesn't tell you that you need to go, so you decide to keep him company while he works.

Who knew a night out with Nina could lead to something like this?

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[mrpenguinpants]

Childe/Tartaglia: Fiancé HCs

Aww, I give major points to anyone that actually reads my tags because it’s a whole lot of word vomit and brainworms. THIS IS MY FINAL OFFERING TO CHILDE SO BUDDY  👏 COME 👏 HOME 👏 This will probably be my last fic this week since I’m going to be busy with term tests and 1.1. Can you tell how slow I am with these asks?

I need to stop tagging so much because tumblr keeps making me repost...

This isn’t necessarily a part 2 from my other Childe fic [ “Enemies” to “Lovers” ] but you can go ahead and read it that way. Not sure if this counts for tags but it doesn’t hurt. To be honest, I was planning for this to be the direct part 2 but then his character story dropped and I got slapped in the face with inspiration.

 [taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@youaskedfurret​ @diaxfeliz​ @wintergreen-aix​ @dandelily​ @thegayrubberducky​ @lovelykittycatmeow​ @yuunoagivesmelife​  @dokidokisama @hanniejji​  @mikeysbike​ @unionwitch​ @musekala​ @twistedsunnshiii​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​

---

Childe/Tartaglia: Fiancé HCs

Your relationship with Tartaglia is unorthodox to say the least. Usually, the average length of an engagement is 13 to 18 months but you didn’t need a calendar to tell you it’s been far longer than that. You probably spent more time with your fiancé’s sister than with the man himself but that was okay with you. Tonia was a really sweet girl and you knew what you were getting into when you accepted and returned his feelings when you two first started going out.

Before he became a Harbinger you were friend’s with him and Tonia. Almost everyone in Snezhnaya was part of the Fatui, working in factories, or a devote follower of Tsaritsa. So it was a breath of fresh air to meet two people that didn’t align themselves to that mindset or become a slave to work. You slowly became closer to the two siblings until the day a stuttering and pink Tartaglia confessed his feelings to you. You think back on that moment fondly since that was probably the first and last time you’ve seen him act in such a shy manner.

The day he proposed to you was the night right before he became a Harbinger. It wasn’t anything grand and you were pretty sure he hadn’t even told Tonia he was planning on proposing that very night. He said that he was waiting for the right moment and somehow felt the right moment was when you were in-between consciousness. When you couldn’t even give him a proper answer since he popped the question right as you fell asleep, but for all intensive purposes, that was probably on purpose. You had to chase him down in freezing cold weather, coat not even properly tied, as you yelled he was a piece of shit and that if he never came back you would hunt him down and kill him yourself.

He just grinned innocently and waved back to you as the ship departed. When asked by a curious merchant who wasn’t native to Snezhnaya asked if he had some...family issues he simply waved it off and said you were his beloved fiancé. The merchant was left very confused on Snezhnaya’s customs and traditions on marriage.

You both made an agreement that only he would write to you. He said that it was because trying to get in contact with him would be impossible, considering how often he moves, plus the different names he goes under. But in actuality, it’s because he want’s to keep the people closest to him as private as possible. The Fatui know of his sister already and most likely know of your existence but as long as he remains a Harbinger they can’t do anything. He won’t let them. But the Fatui have many enemies and while he hates denying your existence, if it’s to make sure you live a peaceful life with his sister, he’ll continue to pretend he’s never heard of your name before.

While he writes to his sister that he’s taking care of trivial matters when he’s on his assignment, he writes a bit more honestly and detailed in his hidden letters to you. You make sure to keep them in a box hidden away from Tonia so she never discovers them but you have an inkling she knows what her brother is up to. She watches the way your face pinches, that your fingers clutch the paper a little tighter, and how you seem to tap the page two times in sequence.

Despite the raging winter storms that swirl around Snezhnaya, you are always warm. He thinks you’re secretly a pyro vision user waiting for the right moment to make good on your word and burn him alive. Whenever his travel’s run late into the night and he arrives home tired and cold, he seeks Tonia’s room to make sure she’s sleeping peacefully. Then to you to do the same. Sometimes when you’re lucky and you wake up early, you’re greeted to Tartaglia clinging onto you refusing to move because you’re warm. Even going through daily routine’s he always has an arm around you or some part of his body against yours. You feel that his habits is rubbing off on his sister because slow morning’s like these see’s you as the human heater. With Tonia hugging you from the front, arms wrapped around your waist, while Tartaglia support’s from behind, arms around the both of you. Your hands laced with his as you both act as a shield for little Tonia.  

Tartaglia’s hands are always numb. He could be in Natlan where it never snows or facing the harsh winters of Snezhnaya, they are always numb. As if the skin of his fingertips were scalded off. Touching anything gives him an uncomfortable sensation so he wears gloves all the time except for two occasions. When he need’s to replace his gloves with a new pair or to lace your hand into his. He can vaguely feel the heat from your hand, see that you don’t have the same callouses that he has from wielding weapons, and can feel the same tingling sensation that would usually have him wrenching his bare hand away if it had been anything or anyone else, besides his sister of course. Instead he holds on as if you’re his last lifeline in the middle of the ocean, commits to memory the feeling of your hand in his, and the pins and needles that prick his fingertips fade away.

He grows restless when life is ordinary and boring so he’s always off fighting or doing something completely dangerous. He was the same before he became a Harbinger which leads to some fights between the two of you. You both handle fight’s pretty badly due to the upbringing of Snezhnaya and it makes Tonia sad when she sees her family argue. So instead you convey your inner worries through taps. One is for annoyance. Two is for worry. Three is for anger.  Likewise, Tartaglia has his own system.

On one rare occasion, Zhongli managed to catch the sight of a flicker of light on Tartaglia’s clothing. It confuses him since aren’t ring’s meant to be worn on the hand? The only response he get’s from Childe when he asks why is a vague answer filled with mirth. He say’s that he’s holding onto it for someone. Zhongli doesn’t quite understand since wouldn’t it be better to keep the ring in a box if it were meant for someone else? Childe wears a ring on his pinky already but it might be a Snezhnaya tradition to wear one ring on the hand, while the other is close to the heart.

He keeps his cheerful attitude on even when it feels as if the world is crushing him. That might be why he names himself Childe. But when it’s just the two of you he takes the mask off, the armor slips off, and let’s himself relax. Time’s like this he just wants to hold you and as he puts it, recharge.

For all his confident nature in fighting he knows that a committed relationship with him is hard. That if you ever want to walk away and find someone new he won’t stop you, but that you never contact him or his family. He won’t open his heart for another person for a long while or ever. He would still give you your ring and whatever you choose to do with it is up to you.

Tartaglia’s goals won’t change. He still has his family to take care of and even if you decide to leave, that doesn’t change the fact he still sees you as apart of his family.

You don’t mind if his goal takes him away from Snezhnaya for years and years. Or if the letter’s he writes become fewer and fewer.  As long as he comes home you don’t mind waiting.

It’s the middle of the night and he’s still awake. He just returned from his last assignment and Tsaritsa is already sending him across Teyvat for “business” related reasons. He just finished checking up on Tonia to see her sleeping soundly. She’s growing up really fast, he smiles slightly at the thought. She can already sleep on her own. He gently opens the door to your room, well really it’s both of yours but he hasn’t been doing a lot of sleeping there, and cringes slightly at the creek the doors give.

He takes a small minute to lean on the doorway and relaxes. He won’t have enough time to bask in your presence if he’s too make it on time. The winter storm continues outside, as if Tsaritsa herself is yelling at him to start moving. He doesn’t think there’s ever been an instance when they’ve been silent.

“I care about three things in this world. My sister, you, and my home,” Tartalia says softly as he walks over and kneels down beside your laying form, resting his hand beside yours as he places a soft kiss on temple. “When those three things are safe I can rest.”

You tap him two times. Your hand has laced around his in a loose grip to which he tightens. You both sit in silence as he wait’s for the pins and needles to stop spreading across his arm before speaking again.

“I know I already proposed but let’s elope somewhere. My next assignment is taking me to Liyue. I heard it’s quite a beautiful place. I’m thinking a spring wedding perhaps?”

One more tap but he’s learned to take your annoyance as you jesting or being flustered.

“Promise me you’ll be safe,” you ask.

“I can try but I can’t guarantee everyone else will be,” he laughs.  

You tap him three times. If you weren’t half asleep you would have probably thrown your pillow at him. He gives one last chuckle as his finger’s rubs patterns into your hand.

“I promise,” he swears.

He hears you hum happily as you begin to relax back into slumber. Slowly letting the feeling of his heartbeat lull you to sleep until your grip loosens around his wrist. Even as the winter winds howl outside you can sleep so peacefully. Unlike him where in the back of his mind are restless thoughts. Tsaritsa is asking something huge of him, another test of his loyalty and strength. He silently stands up as to not wake you again, gives you one last squeeze of the hand, one last fond look, before he leaves. Closing the door as quietly as he can, he steels himself to go back out into the cold.

[luxekook]

when fire meets frost | kth

as part of the christmas with bangtan: secret santa collab

❅ pairing: kim taehyung x reader

❅ genre: second chance romance, exes to lovers, angst, smut, fluff

❅ summary: just like a bad holiday song, you gave taehyung your heart last christmas. only in this scenario, he broke it eight months later. now you’re both back at that same damn holiday party where you first met one year ago and you’re just praying for you and your heart to leave in one piece.

❅ word count: 5.8k

❅ warnings: 18+, cursing, suggestive comments, drinking, DIY mistletoe, light violence, random ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’ references, drunk tae (TM), break-up flashbacks, weird humor, hella tension, hella groveling, making out, smut [oral (m to f)], the fluffiest of fluff (borderline cheese...actually...full-on cheese)

❅ banner by: the almighty and powerful maggie @kimtaehyunq​ - who also is the collab host!

Present Day: The Christmas Party, 8:00PM

Taehyung is staring at you. Again. Though you're facing slightly away from him, you know that if you give even the slightest glance over, your suspicions will all but be confirmed. The heated gaze you feel skimming over your body continues as you take a much needed sip of your mulled wine and pray that you get out of his line of vision soon with your dignity still intact.

Seokjin, your best friend and current partner in conversation, notices your predicament and scoffs, “You really should just put that boy out of his misery, (y/n). Scrooge himself would be down to have a foursome with the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future if he was around all this pent-up sexual tension.”

Your red-painted lips curl in a surely unattractive manner that resembles something between a grimace and a grin. You’ve heard variations of this argument about a dozen times from just as many sources, but Seokjin’s might just be the most absurd.

“I don’t know how or why your brain went right to a ghost-fucking analogy, but I’ve long since given up trying to understand your thought processes.”

Seokjin’s chest puffs up at your words like they incite something he should feel proud of. You sigh and shake your head at him, feeling a mix of exasperation and endearment - a constant haze of comfort you feel around your best friend.

“I’m just saying,” Seokjin continues, completely undeterred by your attempts to divert the conversation onto him, “He’s hot. You’re hot. He’s still into you. You’re still into him. I don’t see the problem.”

“I never said–!” You cut yourself off. He’s baiting you. “You son of a nutcracker. You know full well what the problem is. I’ve told you more times than Yoongi has yelled at someone for getting too close to his precious sound system.

At your words, you both look over to your left where Yoongi is currently chewing out a sheepish Namjoon with a death-grip on his expensive ass speakers.

“And I’ve told you that your reasons are shaky at best, (y/n),” Seokjin sighs, placing his chin in his palm and leaning over to you. He continues with a conspiring whisper, “Just because you’re scared you’ll get hurt again doesn’t mean you should never put yourself back out there.”

“Oh yeah,” You scowl, “That’s easy for you to say. You’ve never been dumped by the boy you love because he ‘wants to explore other options’. And then have to keep being around said-boy because you’re in the same friend group. And then fast forward a few months to when that same boy shows up drunk at your doorstep asking for you to take him back because you’re ‘the only one for him’. Spoiler alert: that’s fucking bullshit. And then–”

Seokjin slaps a palm over your mouth, effectively cutting you off mid-rant. “Babe, you have to stop rehashing this. Taehyung clearly is still in love with you. He looks at you like he wants to fucking eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Besides, Tae hasn’t even hooked up with anyone since he asked for another chance.”

“That we know of,” You mumble darkly behind Seokjin’s palm - your words only a barely audible jumble of syllables.

“Are you accosting my date, Jin?” The voice of your co-worker and close friend Felix meets your ears as you shove Seokjin’s hand off of you. When you invited Felix to come to Jimin’s annual holiday party, you briefed him on the situation - like any good friend would. You needed him there as an extra buffer. While you love Seokjin, he definitely can get swept up into petty drama - namely baseless arguments with Jungkook.

As your closest work friend, Felix knows all about you and Taehyung, and therefore he agreed to be your “date” in exchange for your help in getting him a date with Alicia, the new accountant in your office. You’ve spent countless hours sitting next to each other as desk neighbors and coworkers. Felix is quiet, cute and respectful - not to mention his voice is to die for.

Felix’s hand settles on the middle of your back in completely friendly territory, but you can’t help but feel the eyes on you have ramped up in intensity. You wonder if Felix can feel his hand burning from the heat and almost think he does when Felix drops his hand a second later.

It’s one thing to make you uncomfortable. You’ve learned to stomach that. But it’s another thing to make your friends uncomfortable. And for that you turn and level a glare at that beautiful asshole, sitting at a nearby table with Jimin and still looking at you with those goddamn eyes.

Taehyung shamelessly stares back at you as Jimin prattles on about something in his ear before noticing Tae’s mind is elsewhere. Following his gaze to you, Jimin groans and shoves Taehyung’s shoulder before strutting away towards the kitchen. You watch as Jimin saunters by and roll your eyes when he winks at you when your eyes meet. That one has always been trouble.

When you turn back around, Taehyung is still staring at you. No, this time he’s staring at your body - namely, your ass. You ignore the burst of heat that runs through you and make a face somewhere between a scowl and a glare. He looks up at you without the least bit of remorse.

Your eyes narrow. Your ass isn’t even out! Your green ugly Christmas sweater adorned with real ornaments basically falls to your knees. But then again, Taehyung has always had a vivid imagination - and an even better memory. His mind is like a goddamn vault.

You tug your attention away from your ex and back to the current conversation. But your thoughts wander. You still feel that pull towards Taehyung - that same damn pull that’s been there since you first met him. And that scares the shit out of you.

Flashback: The First Meeting, Last Christmas

You’re perched on the arm of Namjoon’s black pleather sofa (“It doesn’t stain! Can you believe that?” “Namjoon, it’s ripped in seven places.”). Surveying the flurry of friends scattered throughout the cozy apartment, you only see a few people that you don’t know. But something feels different tonight, and you just can’t figure out why.

Did Namjoon rearrange his plants? Did Jimin part his hair differently? Did Hoseok change his outfit - again?  

“A-yo, (y/n)!” Seokjin yells over to you from clear across the room. You’re always baffled at how clueless that boy is to social cues. “Come meet Taehyung!” Your friend continues to yell, practically pinwheeling his arms to beckon you over to his side of the room. You can vaguely make out an unknown figure standing with their back to you, facing Seokjin in conversation.

You sigh. Might as well get this over with before Seokjin decides to start pretending to lasso you over to his side of the room. Or worse - get his actual lasso that he has for some unknown reason. A natural performer that boy is. Getting to your feet, you cross the room. Your heartbeat thuds in your chest and you rub a hand over your heart absentmindedly.

What is wrong with you? Meeting new people always brings nerves, but you never usually feel this out of sorts. You step into Seokjin’s outstretched arm and into the embrace of your best friend. And then you look up at the newcomer.

Hooded dark eyes. Curly black hair. Perfect pink lips. Jawline chiseled by the gods.

Your breath catches in your throat. Words buzz in the air around you but you can't distinguish one from the next. You’re pretty sure Seokjin is making some sort of joke because his sides start to shake and the beautiful stranger looks exasperatedly amused. Yet, his eyes never stray from yours.

His lips part like his breath is caught in his throat.

“Taehyung-ie, don’t be rude! Say hi!” Seokjin shoves Taehyung, jolting you both out of your little staring contest.

“Hi,” Taehyung repeats. Your stomach flips at the depth of his voice. “I’m Taehyung. Kim Taehyung. You can call me Tae. Or V. Or just Taehyung.”

Your smile widens at his ramblings and the rising color of his cheeks. “Hi, Tae,” You can't help but grin up at the adorable, beautiful boy. He really looks angelic under the kitchen lights. His halo of curls frames his face in such a way that makes you want to curl your finger around one and tug.

Vaguely, you can tell that Seokjin is shooting rapid looks between you and Taehyung, looking like some sort of bobblehead in 100mph winds. Suddenly, a Grinch-like grin takes over his face. “Why don’t you crazy kids get some more wine? I need to talk to Yoongi...” Seokjin slips away.

In hindsight, you should have immediately been tipped off that Seokjin was up to no good. Seokjin seeking out Yoongi? Nothing good ever comes from that.

And you were right. Not twenty minutes later, you and Taehyung are both stuttering messes underneath a hastily tapped up branch of mistletoe - at least that’s what Seokjin’s calling it. You think it looks like a clump of grass with a grape thrown in there.

Just as you start to tell Taehyung that he doesn’t have to feel pressured by your lame friends, he cups your face in his hands and lowers his lips to yours.

Fucking magic.

There aren’t fireworks or sparks. There’s a whole blazing inferno between the two of you.

Your hands slide up his back, tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck. Taehyung lets out a small gasp as your fingers tug on his locks, and you slowly slide your tongue across his lower lip.

“Uh, okay… Hello? Hey, guys!”

Finally, Yoongi slams together two pans from the kitchen, jolting you both away from each other in fright.

“Break that shit up,” Yoongi shoots a glare at a grinning Seokjin. “I did not sign up for that level of PDA, Jin.”

“I can’t predict love, Yoongi-ah. I can only bring lovers together,” Jin sighs, clasping his hands over his heart dramatically. Yoongi pinches Seokjin in the side, immediately instigating a fight.

Taehyung reclaims your attention, shyly intertwining his pinky with yours. In the midst of all the chaos around you, he just looks at you like you are the only thing that matters.

Present Day: The Christmas Party, 9:02PM

“I don’t know how you survive when he looks at you like that. I’m practically melting just being in proximity of the two of you.”

Your friend Ciana’s comment pulls your attention away from your demon of an ex as he strides by, leveling you with a calculated smolder.

It’s a look that says he’s going to fuck you up in the best way - the way that used to leave you weak in the knees and covered in hickies. Taehyung’s fuck me eyes are your kryptonite. He knows it. You know it. The whole party knows it. Hence, it makes sense how he’s shamelessly using them any fucking chance he can just to mess with you.

It’s practically a fulltime job pretending it doesn't affect you. And it's a job you are failing at miserably.

You sigh and take a big sip of your drink. “Oh, I'm not surviving,” You confess, “This is just a hologram image of me. I’m practically clear across the country by now.”

Ciana laughs, “Girl, I don't blame you, but I have to say… He looks like he would follow you anywhere.”

You scoff. There was a time where you would wholeheartedly agree. Since your first meeting, Tae made you feel like you were the center of his universe.

After talking all night at Seokjin’s party, you exchanged numbers and within a few days Tae asked you out.

Your first date was to an art gallery. The two of you spent hours there, studying art and exchanging soft murmured interpretations. You would often catch Taehyung staring at you instead of at the paintings decorating the walls, and it made you feel all warm and fuzzy.

The dates continued until Taehyung managed to gather up the courage to ask you to be exclusive - his words, not yours. You hadn’t believed that he could ever have doubted your answer. But in hindsight, you probably should have doubted him.

Things were great for a while. No - they were better than great. They were the best eight months of your fucking life. Until they weren’t.

“Why did y’all break up again?” Ciana asks, pulling your attention to her once more.

You let a bitter laugh escape. “You’ll have to ask him that.”

Flashback: The Break-Up, August

“I want to see other people.”

The words strike you like a serrated blade. The plate you’re washing falls into the sink with a clatter. Your heart stills in your chest.

“What?” For a second you believe that you must have misheard him. Only he crushes that hope into dust within seconds.

“I said I want to see other people.” Taehyung repeats, a bit louder.

“You mean like taking a break?” You refuse to turn around and face him. You refuse to believe that your relationship is crumbling down. Your mind tries to grasp at straws. “Or trying ethical non-monogamy?”

“No, (y/n),” Taehyung sighs, “I mean that I want to break up.”

“But why? I don’t understand.” The tears begin to sting your eyes as you blink rapidly, trying to make sense of the blindside that Taehyung just threw at you. “What did I do? How can I fix this?”

“You can’t, okay?” The exasperation in his voice is palpable. “I’m bored here. I feel tied down. We’re both so young... How can we know we’re right for each other when there’s so many other people out there?”

“Where the hell is this coming from?” You seethe, finally whirling to face him. Taehyung flinches when he sees your tearstained face but you persevere and continue, “I bore you? That’s sure not what it seemed like two days ago when you were fucking me against the wall of that club bathroom.”

“Things change,” Taehyung scowls, “I need to explore other options, (y/n), and I think you should, too.”

Your heart is breaking, a fissure splitting it right down the middle. “You want to explore other options,” You repeat, in a deadpan voice. “Do you already have someone in mind?”

The split second pause Taehyung takes is all you need to know the answer to that.

“Get out.”

“(Y/n), it wasn’t the only reason!” Taehyung scrambles to explain. “We haven’t even done anything yet!”

“Oh, you’re a ‘we’ already? Fuck you, Kim Taehyung.”

“No! That’s not what I meant!”

“Well, I hope you’re happy with them. I hope they don’t bore you or tie you down. I hope you’re right for each other. I hope youre fucking happy with yourself and your decision.”

“Can’t we still be friends?”

You don’t deem that question worthy enough of an answer and slam your front door in the face of the person who ten minutes ago had been the love of your life.

Present Day: The Christmas Party, 10:21PM

The amount of love in the room is making your stomach turn. You watch as your coupled up friends exchange presents and kisses. You’re so happy for each and every one of them, don’t get you wrong. You just can’t help but feel increasingly alone with each passing minute.

Felix notices the dip in your mood and nudges you, “Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah,” You snuggle deeper into his side. Thank god for Felix. “Thanks for coming with me to this shindig. It would have been hard to be alone this year.”

“No worries, babe. Besides, how else am I gonna get Alicia to go out with me?”

You laugh at Felix’s words. The boy was oblivious to the fact that Alicia had already approached you to ask if he was single. Sometimes you enjoy your diabolical mind. “Oh, she’ll definitely go out with you,” You reply, pinching his cheek, “Who could resist this face?”

“You did. Three years ago,” Felix whines, shoving your hand away from him playfully.

“Sadly you’re not my type, pretty boy,” You sigh. It truly was sad. Felix is the nicest human you know - besides Seokjin. The fact that you're not interested just reinforces the idea that you have terrible taste in men.

“You’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know who you could possibly be referring to,” You sniff, turning away.

“Oh, I don’t know… Maybe the guy that hasn’t stopped circling you like a fucking shark in water since we got here?”

“He has not,” You retort, rolling your eyes.

“A-ha! So you do know exactly who I’m referring to, you little liar!”

“Goddamnit,” You laugh. “I need another drink to put up with you. You want a refill?” You gesture towards his cup.

“Nah, I’m good,” Felix shakes his head. You nod and head over to the kitchen, thankfully seeing no sign of ‘Shark Boy’.

But you spoke too soon, because just as you’re reaching up for a new mug you feel him.

“Is that little boy out there your boyfriend? I didn’t think you were dating anyone,” A rough voice growls from entirely too close to your ear.

You turn your head and shoot your best side-eye at the asshole who’s heated stare is aimed straight down at you. You internally curse at the unfortunate fact that Kim Taehyung somehow still can manage to look gorgeous in a bright red sweater with a whole-ass Santa beard stitched to its collar. You have never hated him more given that you look like a hot mess of a Christmas tree that no one wants to climb.

“I don’t see how that is any of your business, Kim,” You retort, turning around again and grabbing a glass from the cabinet. You can feel his warmth surrounding you as he grabs the mug for you instead, his body pushed up against yours.

“Move,” You order, your voice shaking slightly. But instead of listening, Tae grabs your hips and turns you around, caging you in between his arms.

“See, you’re wrong, (y/n),” His eyes dart from your own to your lips, “Everything that concerns you is my business. It has since the moment I met you, and it hasn’t stopped since.”

The incredulous snort escapes you before you can attempt to rein it in, “Taehyung, you broke up with me! I’m pretty sure that means you consider me old news and - above all - none of your fucking business.”

“And I told you I made a mistake!” Taehyung leans closer, his jaw ticking.

“You were drunk!” You stab a finger into his admittedly toned chest that you can feel even through that abominable Santa beard, “And it took you two fucking months to say that, only to never bring it up again. So excuse me if I find your argument lacking.”

“Fuck,” Taehyung curses softly, running a hand through his mess of curls, “I miss that smart mouth.”

“Yeah?” Your response flies out too fast for your brain to check your words, “Well I miss being enough for you.”

Taehyung looks stricken. “Baby…” He reaches for you but you duck past him and beeline straight for Jimin’s bathroom. Locking yourself inside, you slide to the floor and contemplate your chances of sneaking out the tiny bathroom window just like you did that night some months ago.

Flashback: A Streetcar Named WTF, October

A harsh banging sound jolts you awake. “What the fuck,” You mumble, fumbling around blindly trying to find your phone amidst the blankets and pillows surrounding you.

Finally, your hand locates the small metal device and you switch your screen on. Your eyes immediately shut at the brightness and you muster up the will to peek at the time.

3:12AM.

Who the hell dares to pound on your door at this hour? What is this - A Streetcar Named Desire? Well, slap your ass and call you Blanche because this asshole is about to feel your wrath.

Stomping over to your door, you swing it open and say, “There’s no Stella here, Stanley. Fuck off.”

While you don’t find a drunk Marlon Brando on your doorstep, you do find a drunk Taehyung.

“Who the fuck’s Stanley?” Tae glares, trying to cross his arms but failing somehow.

“Good lord, Taehyung,” You groan, grabbing his arm and dragging him inside your apartment, “You smell like a whole goddamn brewery. How did you even end up here?”

“Walked,” He says proudly while smiling down at your hand on his arm like an idiot. “Who’s Stamplee? I mean, Stangfree.”

You pinch your nose with your free hand. This boy… Ignoring his idiocy completely, you question, “You walked?” You push him down onto your couch and head into your kitchen to grab him some water.

“Yup! All by myself! Are you proud of me? Sandflea could never!”

You jump. Somehow Tae still managed to sneak up behind you while drunk out of his mind.

“Kim Taehyung, sit your drunk ass down.” You jab a finger in the direction of the couch he just vacated.

“But you’re so far away when I sit all the way over there, baby,” He pouts, giving you puppy dog eyes. “And I’m not drunk!”

You don’t dignify his words with a response. Handing the glass of water to the problem currently sprawled out on your couch, you sigh. What are you going to do with him? He can’t stay here… But he’s in no shape to walk back to wherever the fuck he came from.

“Tell me, Kim, why did you think that walking to my apartment of all places was a good idea? I could have moved!” Disdain drips from every syllable, “Is anything going on in that brain of yours? If so, it’s clearly not making any sense.”

“I beg to differ,” Taehyung has the audacity to grin up at you as he continues, “My brain makes perfect sense, baby. You plus me equals three.” His eyebrows wiggle up and down as he swings his hands out, showering you with the glass of water you just handed him.

“Maybe I’ll call you a math tutor along with your Uber,” You mumble as you fight the urge to laugh at the mess of a boy staring up at you from your couch. Grabbing a kitchen towel, you dab the water off of you as best you can. Glancing back down at Tae, you notice his attention has fallen to your chest, where the water he practically threw at you has plastered your tanktop to your skin.

“Hey, eyes up here,” You slap his arm with the damp towel, but he doesn’t even flinch.

“One more minute,” He says, absentmindedly rubbing his arm.

His attention gives you butterflies for a split second before you lock that shit down. You aren’t a fool; you’re fully aware that Taehyung’s the farthest thing from available, but he’s still hot as hell with his muscular stature, his wicked brown eyes, and his full pink lips. And that deep voice… it has shamefully been the fuel of your fantasies for the past few weeks. But that is neither here nor there.

So while his undivided attention always did make you feel fucking incredible, now he’s just a drunk boy who’s acting like he’s never seen nipples before.

“I’m calling you an Uber, okay?” You finally say, grabbing your phone and pulling up the app.

“Can’t I stay here?” Taehyung pouts, “Or will Surley get mad?”

“His name is Stanley,” You automatically reply and then curse as Taehyung lurches to his feet.

“I knew it! Where is he? Where is my replacement? I challenge him to a duel!”

“A duel?” You can’t help but laugh, “On what grounds?”

“For your hand, of course!” Taehyung rapidly glances around your apartment before his eyes land on the broom tucked in the corner of your kitchen. “There’s my sword!”

Before he can take a step towards his ‘sword’, you grab his arm and push him back down onto your couch.

“Wow, you’re strong!” Tae stares up at you adoringly, “And so-o cute. Wanna date?”

“You’re drunk, Tae. Don’t say things like that.” God, he’s going to give you a complex. You had just started getting over him and now he does this? Why is life deadset on fucking you over?

“But I do wanna date you!” Taehyung insists, “Don’t you miss me? Miss us? I still love you. I never stopped.”

“Tae, please stop.”

“I made a mistake, baby, and I wanna fix it. Can you give me a chance? Please?” His brown eyes blink up at you slowly. His lids practically fight to stay open as his words slur together.

The boy is falling asleep. Sighing, you close the Uber app. Looks like you’re housing your ex for the evening.

“I wanna marry you,” He mumbles, “Bought the ring last week. If you can just love me again I’ll be the luckiest…” His words get more and more inaudible. Mumbles about Stanley and revenge and kisses and altars filter through as you place a blanket over his form.

“Goodnight, Tae.” You can’t resist brushing your fingers through his hair. Your heart stutters as he practically leans into your touch like a cat, smiling contentedly.

“We’ll see if you remember this in the morning,” You mutter, setting another glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen on the coffee table for him when he wakes up.

After making sure Taehyung’s on his side with a bucket for potential incidents, you head back to bed.

When you wake up, he’s nowhere to be found.

Present Day: The Christmas Party, 10:23PM

“(y/n)... baby, please let me in.”

The underlying meaning of those six words is not lost on you. Could you let him in again? Taehyung once held your heart and then he basically smashed it on concrete and backed over it with his car - twice.

“Go away.” Your words sound weak even to your own ears.

“No, I need to talk to you… Please.” His voice breaks on the last word and you cave. Standing you unlock the door and back up. You could have a logical and reasonable discussion with Tae and get some closure, leaving all feelings out of it. Maybe...

“Two minutes,” You declare, “Nothing more.”

“But–”

You cut him off, “1:55…” You tap your foot and smile as Taehyung shoots you a look.

“Fine,” He rubs the back of his neck, peeking up at you under his lashes. “I got scared, okay?”

Your disbelief must show all over your face because he continues.

“Yeah, I was scared - fucking terrified of how much I feel for you. How in love with you I am. How can it be that easy to find your soulmate? It didn’t make any sense to me. And then Pia began to show an interest in me and I convinced myself it was a good idea to distance myself from you. To see other people. To try to make sense of my feelings.”

You hold up a hand. “So, you’re saying that you broke up with me because you were ‘too in love with me?’ What the fuck kind of selfish bullshit is that, Taehyung? You broke my fucking heart for someone you didn’t even like because you were scared I was your soulmate? Don’t you see how that just makes me feel like shit?”

Taehyung sinks to his knees. “(Y/n), baby, please. I am so sorry. I fucked up in the worst, most selfish way possible. It kills me that I broke your heart.”

“Ugh, get up, you drama king.” You pull him to his feet, continuing, “Why did you leave after that night? You said all those things when you were drunk and then just left.”

“Yeah, I kind of don’t remember what I said or how I even ended up at your place.” A blush takes over his face, “It’s so embarrassing you had to see me like that and I kind of just wanted to forget it happened. And I really hoped that you forgot it did, too. I didn’t expect you to just keep acting like you forgot my existence altogether.”

“What does that mean? I see you all the time, Tae! We’re in the same friend group for god’s sakes. We’re around each other all the time… Maybe even too much.” You mumble the last few words, but he catches them.

“Too much? You avoid me at all costs! You don’t smile at me anymore. You don’t even look at me most times! It kills me that all I get from you now is ice, when I know you have so much fire.”

His words confuse you. So he does want you back? Your friends weren’t exaggerating? A small burst of hope swells inside you, but the memory of the break-up outweighs it. “You don’t even know me though, Taehyung. Not anymore.”

“No. You’re wrong,” Taehyung leans closer to you, and you take a step back. Your back bumps up against the sink, your plastic ornaments adorning your sweater clinking awkwardly.

Tae brushes a stray hair behind your ear, his eyes begging you to listen, “I do know you. I know that you still take your coffee black with caramel. I know that you started doing yoga but are too proud to admit you hate it. I know that you came to my art show last month but left before I could talk to you alone. I know that you–”

“Stop,” Your voice trembles, “Please, I can’t. Taehyung, you hurt me so fucking much. Don’t you get that? I just started feeling whole again. So if I let you back in and you hurt me, I might shatter completely.”

His hands cup your face gently, wiping away a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen. “I won’t ever hurt you again, baby. Please give me one more chance. That’s all I need. I want to keep you forever, (y/n)... I bought you a ring, did I tell you that when I was drunk? I think I did. I still have it. It’s yours - just like my heart.”

“God, you’re still so fucking cheesy,” You can’t hold back your smile even though more tears are falling down your cheeks.

And then his lips are on yours.

Taehyung kisses you like you're the most precious thing in the universe. Like you might break in the palm of his hand if he’s not careful enough. And maybe you will. But for right now, you melt into him.

He tastes like home.

Taehyung’s touch is tentative at first. His hands slide into your hair, tugging you even closer. You feel like you might burst, feeling so many emotions. Love. Fear. Confusion. Hope. You hook your leg around him, wanting him pressed against you everywhere.

Taehyung groans and one of his hands drops down to grab your thigh, wrapping it more securely around his waist. “Jump, baby,” He mumbles into your lips, and you listen automatically.

He perches you on the edge of the sink, kisses you deeply, and then sinks back down to his knees.

“Tae–” You protest, as he runs his hands slowly up your calves.

“I haven’t tasted you in so long, baby,” His dark eyes burn into yours, “Please don’t let me go another minute without you on my tongue.”

Fuck. Well, you can’t argue with that. When Tae sees you open your legs a bit more, he grins up at you and places a quick kiss on the inside of your knee.

His touch becomes more frantic as he moves up, his mouth placing hot kisses higher and higher.

When he sees the lacy red panties you have on, he snaps, lunging forward and hitching your thigh over his shoulder. Pushing your underwear to the side, his hot mouth is on you, closing over your clit without warning. You gasp as he sucks your bud into his mouth, lapping at it with his tongue.

Your hand winds its way into his curls, pushing him harder against you. He moans into your pussy. “So fucking wet for me, baby. God, I love you.”

Taehyung places a soft kiss on your inner thigh before his tongue returns to lick at your pussy, up and down. His tongue sinks into you, making your hips buck against his face. His hand shoots up to steady you as his tongue continues to flick in and out of you.

The sight of the boy you never stopped loving tongue deep in your pussy almost pushes you over the edge already. “Ta-ae,” You moan, hand tugging at his hair, “Harder, baby, please.”

Your words have their desired effect as he replaces his tongue with two of his fingers and places his mouth back on your clit. You moan as his fingers curl inside you, brushing your walls.

The first few strokes of his fingers are slow. Too slow for your liking, “Taehyung, fuck me with your fingers.”

A rumble moves up his chest as he obeys, pushing another finger deep inside of you. “Fuck, baby,” He curses and begins to thrust his fingers in and out of your pussy, “You feel even better than I remember, so goddamn wet.”

His mouth finally returns to your clit, his tongue flicking over it every so often. You’re hurtling towards your orgasm as his long fingers continue to pound into you and his mouth continues to lick at your pussy.

You feel the heat building up and you come with a gasp. Taehyung continues to fuck you with his fingers and his mouth, carrying you through your orgasm until you slump back against the mirror above the sink.

Taehyung grins up at you, licking up everything you gave him. Finally, you gently push him off you. Still licking his fingers clean, Taehyung’s eyes sparkle up at you, “Well? Wanna get married?”

“Oh my god,” You burst out laughing, hopping off the sink onto shaky legs. “Why don’t you start by wooing me? We’ll go from there.”

“Challenge accepted.”

You blink.

Taehyung smiles. His wild dark curls are sticking up in random places - courtesy of your hands. His eyes are full of their usual sinful promises, but this time they also hold excitement and a tiny spark of hope. “Prepare to be wooed, wifey.”

“Fuck off,” You laugh, quickly fixing your hair in the mirror before smoothing down your sweater dress.

Nodding at your semi-acceptable reflection, you swing the door open to reveal just about every person from the party collectively gathered just outside.

“I knew it!” Seokjin shrieks. “Where’s my mistletoe?”

“My poor bathroom!” Jimin cries, “Defiled! Desecrated!”

“Why am I friends with you all?” Yoongi asks no one in particular.

“Well,” Tae whispers in your ear, “At least we won’t have to tell them, right?”

You smile despite the embarrassing situation and nod. This Christmas might just be your best yet.

a/n: sorry that this is late and severely unedited LOL plz be kind, this is my first fic back and YA GIRL IS RUSTY

© luxekook do not repost, edit or translate as protected under this license

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Rose Tinted.

Pairing: Yandere!Kuroo/Reader, Yandere!Kenma/Reader, Yandere!Akaashi/Reader & Yandere!Bokuto/Reader.

Word Count: 3.9k.

Synopsis: Life is stressful. It was stressful when you were your own person, when you were free, and it is now, when you’re relegated to a captivity spent in the arms of your four captors. It’s only natural that you adapt to your current life by modifying the details of your old one.

TW: Prolonged Imprisonment, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Mentions of Physical Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Gaslighting, Mentions of Past Toxic Relationships, and Implied Non-Con.

Kuroo reminds you of your old roommate, sometimes.

It’s a sickening comparison to draw, but you can’t help yourself, not when you’re with him, not when he’s acts so much like her. Kuroo’s a morning person, and with his busy schedule and all the time he spends traveling, he tries to steal every minute he can with you, every second you’re not wrapped in Bokuto’s arms or sitting on Kozume’s lap or doing whatever Akaashi does, after he forces those little white pills down your throat and your mind gets too fuzzy to form memories, even if that means he has to fish you out of bed before sunrise, deposit you on the countertop, and mutter one of his favorite threats in your ear, just to ensure you won’t make another lunge at the knife block. You’re almost grateful for that last step. It gives you an excuse not to strain yourself, so early in the day.

It’s a vague link, but it’s there. In the way he hums to himself as he cooks, how absent-mindedly he moves around the kitchen as he puts together the meal you’ve watched him make a thousand times. He’s more rushed than she used to be, though. Whereas your roommate would still have one eye shut as she cracked an egg over a sizzling pan, Kuroo’s already fully dressed, even if his shirt’s slightly unbuttoned, his tie loosened and his blazer draped over your shoulders despite your attempts to subtly shrug it off. That was something she’d done, too, but differently, more innocently. She’d ruffle your hair as you collapsed on the kitchen island, commenting on ‘another late night’ or how helpless you’d be without her help. Kuroo doesn’t have to ask. He knows where you are, where you were, all the time, every day, and if there’s a lapse in your schedule he isn’t sure how to fill in, then you wouldn’t be watching him cook.

You’d be locked in a closet, left without food or water or warmth for however long it took for you to swallow your pride and admit that you’d spent two hours trying to break the deadbolt on your bedroom’s window yesterday, all while Kuroo sat on the other side of the door and congratulated you on finally being honest.

You almost don’t notice when the humming stops, Kuroo turning the stove off before he shifts, his eyes flickering in your direction while a soft grin tugs at the corner of his lips, more patronizing than endearing. You can almost bring yourself to hate him for it. In the moment, you think you do. “You’ve been awful quiet,” He starts, once you fail to say anything on your own. “Something on your mind?”

Lying to Kuroo is useless. Bokuto never catches it and Kozume doesn’t care, but Kuroo doesn’t allow it. He thinks it’s a sign of disobedience. He thinks it means you’re falling into old habits. “Just my roommate,” You mutter, hoping you sound disinterested enough for Kuroo to drop the topic. “She used to cook a lot, too.”

There’s a hum of acknowledgement, a collision of wood on wood as he opens the nearest drawer. Idly, you wonder if Kuroo can do anything without making noise. “Blonde hair, brown eyes? The same girl who always skipped out on rent?”

“She couldn’t keep a job.” You almost glance towards him, if only to smirk and tell him that, whatever he’s making, she would’ve made it better, but you stop yourself before you can. He wouldn’t like that, and as bland as Kuroo’s cooking is, your roommate probably would’ve burnt the pan beyond repair and left the mess for you to find, hours later. “It wasn’t her fault. She always got stuck with strict bosses, and she wasn’t good with schedules. She was really nice, though.”

Kuroo chuckles, taking a second to prod at your side. “C’mon, sweetheart, nicer than me?”

You don’t answer, but Kuroo doesn’t seem to mind. There’s another laugh, another prod, and he steps in front of you, positioning himself between your open legs and supporting himself against the cabinets lining the wall, caging you in. It’s probably supposed to be a playful gesture. It’s probably supposed to be, he probably wants it to be, but somehow, you can’t find it in yourself to feel so light-hearted.

When he raises a hand, you don’t flinch, but you have to fight the urge to recoil as he cups your jaw, tracing his thumb over your cheek. You don’t want him to touch you, but you know better than to push him away. “We’re in a good mood today, alright?” The question is soft, well-meaning, but you frown regardless, tightening your grip on the edge of the countertop. “No fighting, no tantrums, and no trying to get away while I’m gone. I know the others go easy on you, but when I come home, I don’t want to hear a word about your behavior.”

They don’t go easy on you. No one goes easy on you. Kuroo’s just too harsh.

Kuroo’s strict, but… he makes good on his promises. If there’s anything about him you like, it’s that.

Apparently, you take a little too long to respond. Again, you're forced to think about your roommate when he sighs, the same way she used to when you had to tell her you wouldn't be able to pick her up from that bar or go to this party, that you were too tired, that you didn’t want to see her face after working yourself to the bone so the two of you could afford to feed yourselves. Like she was disappointed. Like she had the right to be disappointed.

“I know you’re still getting used to this, but try to give it time. The guys and me, all of us love you, and none of us want to see you sulk. I’m not asking you to cheer every time I walk through the door, just…” There’s a pause, another sigh. Kuroo straightens his back, pressing a long, lingering kiss into the top of your head. “Just try to smile a little more, alright? I promise, I’ll make it worth the effort.”

Your answer is short, but you can still feel Kuroo’s smile against your skin. And, just for a moment, you think you might be grateful he bothered to ask.

“I’ll try.”

~

Bokuto reminds you of your boyfriend, in a certain way.

Out of all of your captors, his intentions are the most unquestionably romantic. Akaashi and Kuroo seem to think of you as more of a pet than a partner, and you’ve never been able to figure out what Kozume wants from you, but Bokuto’s straight-forward, Bokuto doesn’t feel the need to hide his intentions behind pretty words and selfish gifts and mantras about how much he loves you, even if the last still comes naturally. You don’t appreciate him for it. You don’t like him for it, but it makes Bokuto bearable. If you had the luxury of choosing a favorite, he’d probably be your first pick.

It helps that he’s still so convinced your relationship is normal. When he’s the one to wake you up, he lets you decide what you want to wear, and when he kisses you, you don't have to kiss back. You’re allowed to say no, with Bokuto. You’re allowed to refuse, and he won’t push you to change your mind.

Tonight’s an exception to that rule, obviously.

You think you’re in Akaashi’s bed. The sheets are white, tucked in a little too tightly at the corners, and the lighting is dimmer than it would be, if Bokuto’d had the patience to carry you somewhere more private. You don’t remember falling asleep, but you don’t have time to forget waking up. The jarring dip of the mattress, the strong hand on your shoulder, barely bothering to shake for a second before pushing you onto your back and pinning you down, thighs straddling your waist and his chest pressing against yours before you can do so much as open your eyes. You only realize it’s him, realize that it’s Bokuto when he kisses you, taking advantage of your stupor in that messy, clumsy way that always leaves you breathless and gagging. That leaves you hurt, more so than you would be if any of the others treated you so roughly.

He’s smiling, when he pulls away. It’s not soft and it’s not subtle, and it hasn’t faded by the time he finds your neck, latching onto the sensitive spot just above your jugular. If he had been your boyfriend, you might’ve laughed as his teeth graze against your skin, you might’ve found it exciting when he bite down. But, it isn’t. Your boyfriend would’ve asked, and Bokuto isn’t your boyfriend.

“I asked,” He cuts in, not waiting for you to finish. That’s fine. It’s expected, honestly. Bokuto’s like a puppy, too eager for his own good, a trait that borders on endearing at times, but only manages to come off as frustrating, now. “He’s always really busy, and you just looked so sweet, I didn’t know of I could leave you all alone.” There’s a laugh, abrupt and bright, the sound soon muffled against the crook of your shoulder. “Just an hour, alright? Then you can go back to sleep.”

“Kotaro,” You try, pushing lightly on his chest. It’s a futile effort, one that only results in a groan against your skin and an arm around your waist, but you try regardless. You’re not sure you’d be able to forgive yourself if you stopped. “It’s supposed to be Keiji’s turn and… I don’t know if he’d be alright with--”

That sounds like something your boyfriend would’ve said, too. Just an hour. Just an hour, then you’d be able to go back to sleep, or back to work, or back to whatever you did to pass time when you didn’t have any time to pass. And when you didn’t have an hour, when you tried to explain that, you two would spend an hour fighting, instead. At least you didn’t have to fight with Bokuto. He made that part easy, with his willingness to pout and cry and fuck you into the mattress with tears in his eyes because, although you could say no, he doesn’t care if you do. It just makes things easier when you don’t.

“I-” Again, you’re interrupted, the words fading into a small, high-pitched shriek as his canines sink into your shoulder. And you’d just gotten your hopes up that he might let his last set of love-bites heal without interruption. “I don’t want to do this.”

Now, that makes him pull away. It’s almost surprising, how little relief there is to accompany the gesture, how much guilt comes with having to meet those wide, glassy eyes and swallow the apology playing on your tongue. You didn't apologize to your boyfriend, not the last time, not the most important time. Or, your ex-boyfriend, you guess. You’re pretty sure you broke up with him, or he broke up with you, or someone said something that made you angry enough to storm out of his apartment and into Bokuto’s waiting arms, Akaashi beside him with a length of rope and a needle full of sedatives. 

His voice shakes when he speaks. ”Are you… Are you mad at me, again?”

You aren’t. It’s hard to be mad at Bokuto, and you’re so tired of always doing the hard thing.

“Wouldn it matter if I was?” You mumble, falling back onto Akaashi’s bed. “It’s not like you’d listen to me.”

You’re looking at the ceiling, now, but there’s a shift, a slight change. Soon, you can’t feel his weight on your chest, and you have to suppress the urge to mourn his stifling presense. “I’d try to.”

You almost wish it was Akaashi on top of you. At least then, you might be able to believe he knows he’s lying. “You wouldn’t,” You sigh, trying to sound exasperated. Trying to sound genuine. “If you listened to me, you would’ve let me go, by now. If you really loved me, I wouldn’t still have to tell you how much I hate it here.”

Less than a month ago, you’d yelled the same words. Screamed them, repeated them, told Bokuto how much you hated him and his friends and everything they’d forced onto you. Now, it’s all you can do to say them with enough strength not to crack under the pressure, not to give into the temptation to throw yourself at his chest and claw until he’s the villain again and you’re helpless, just an uninvolved bystander in your own suffering.

To your credit, it’s a fleeting urge, one that’s gone by the time you roll onto your side, away from Bokuto, curling into yourself as he settles against your back. There’s a heavy sigh, another gentle kiss to the nape of your neck. His arm wraps around your waist, but there’s no attempt to drag you closer, no attempt to go any further. You almost wish he would.

It’d be easier to cry yourself to sleep, if you could blame him for forcing you to.

~

Akaashi reminds you of your co-workers, all the time.

He spends so much time working, it’d be impossible not to draw the connection. He smells like an office, like ink and metal and more chemicals than an editor should use, and he feels like one, too, his skin always cold and his hands always quick to clamp down around anything warm and kicking and alive. It reminds you of the receptionist who used to give you a hug every morning, a sourceless gesture that was always a little too tight to be comfortable. Of Kuroo’s handshake, when you were first called back after your initial interview. You suppose he has more right to the position than Akaashi, you must’ve worked under him for months, but Kuroo invited you out for drinks, he made small talk, he could take off his suit and defrost when he wanted to.

Akaashi couldn’t. Akaashi can’t.

That, or he won’t, and you don’t know which option scares you more.

It doesn’t help that he works so often, either, even when he’s home. You can try to block it out, try to ignore the constant click of his keyboard, the occasional creak of his chair whenever Akaashi tries to reposition himself, but there’s only so much you can do on his lap, your arms strung over his shoulders and your face buried in his chest, your sleep-deprived mind momentarily forgetting its distaste in favor of seeking out as much comfort as it could.

That might be what drives you to speak, to break the silence as Akaashi bows his head, his lips brushing against the dip of your shoulder while his hands fall from his laptop to your hips. As always, his touch is cold, unnerving, the shirt he’d forced you to borrow doing little to protect you from the chill. “I hate you.”

There’s a tap to your side, a noise of acknowledgement. “I know, angel. You’ve mentioned it before.”

“So much,” You go on, your voice muffled by his sweatshirt. “More than the others. Every night I fantasize about slitting your throat and stuffing one of your stupid toys in the wound. I still have a scar from that fucking collar.”

This time, you get a hum, low and absent-minded. “A small one,” He adds. “Kenma’s done worse, and I’ve already apologized.”

He has. This is an old argument, one you’re still mad about, but one you know you’ll never resolve, not with someone so apathetic. So, you try a different approach. Not something more honorable, but something different. Something that wouldn’t leave a coat of ash on your tongue, hopefully. “My friends probably think I’m dead by now, my family too.” It feels good to say, but it feels awful, at the same time. Like you’re admitting defeat. Like you’re submitting to the same man who's been whispering those very same words to you since your first night spent in his loving care. “Even if I get out, you’ve already ruined my life. I won’t have anywhere to go back to, not a job, no place to--”

“That’s a good thing, right?” It’s an innocent question, judging by his tone. You try not to take it as one. “You always hated your job.”

It’s almost a reflex to defend yourself. “I never--”

“Yes, you did.” If it was Bokuto, you could’ve told yourself he’d been fed a lie, or pushed into a delusion that featured you as a damsel in distress and him as your big, strong, brave hero. If it was Kuroo, you could’ve told yourself that he wanted you to believe you hated your job, your old life, everything he was kind enough to rip you away from. Kozume would’ve been uninterested enough to stop the conversation before you started to spiral, but you’re not talking to Kozume, or Kuroo, or Bokuto. You’re talking to Akaashi, and Akaashi doesn’t care whether or not you’re happy. He doesn’t have a reason to lie to you, not about something so mundane. “That’s why we had to take you home. You were too stressed, I was getting worried.” He pauses, his hands moving to your sides, pulling you away from his chest. You don’t resist, but you don’t look up, either, not until he cups your cheeks in his palms, his voice suddenly going from sterile to soft in the space between one breath and another. “It was painful to watch, it was painful for all of us. I know it’s hard to see from your perspective, but you used to cry so much, and you were so close to falling apart. We just did what we thought would help.”

“So you decided to kidnap me?” It’s the harshest you’ve been in weeks, even if you barely manage to raise your voice. You grab his wrists, but you don’t try to jerk him away. Instead, you settle on digging your nails into his skin, and in return, Akaashi ignores your minor show of rebellion. “You’re not doing me a favor. You’ll never convince me I want this, because I don’t. If you have to tell me I’m happy, it’s only because you know I’m not.”

“You’re not happy, but you’re happier than you used to be.” He doesn’t try to make light of the revelation, but his neutral expression still cracks, leaving the smallest smile in its place. Not amused, but not sympathetic, either. Not malicious, but certainly not kind enough to spare your feelings. “It’s easier, and I think you know that. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. You just couldn’t handle life without a little help.”

You pull away, jerking your head out of his hands and crossing your arms in front of you, putting as much distance between you and Akaashi as you can. “You’re lying. You’re lying, and you’re not even doing it well.”

You can feel him let out a breath of a laugh, leaning forward just enough to push a kiss into your temple before drawing back, content to admire the long-awaited results of his work.

“Of course I am, angel.”

~

Kozume doesn’t remind you of anything, and it’s unbearable.

You’d worked with Kuroo, intimately. He’d introduced you to Bokuto, and you’d met Akaashi at his games, even if the two of you never shared more than a few polite niceties about the match at-hand. Kozume’s the only one who’s new to you, he’s the only one who’s just your kidnapper, even if he fit the role well. You can’t sympathize with him, because there’s nothing to sympathize with. You can’t understand his irrational connection with you, because he’s never bothered to offer an explanation. It shouldn’t upset you as much as it does. It shouldn’t be as awful as it is. He shouldn’t make you feel as disgusting as you do, but he does. You don’t know why, but he does, and you can’t forgive him because of it.

It’s almost a relief when you wake up alone on the edge of Kozume’s bed, tucked under heavy black sheets with sunlight already spilling through the open window. You consider rolling over, trying to go back to sleep, but you can already hear a lock clicking in the distance, light footsteps moving over wood as Kozume steps in, leaning against the doorway as he watches you start to stir. You’re purposefully lethargic, taking the time to sit up and rub your eyes until it doesn’t hurt to blink, but Kozume’s content to stare on. Part of you hopes you’ll get used to it, soon. The rest of you tries to smother the idea before it can spread.

“Mornin’,” He calls, when you make it clear you’re awake. He’s dressed, not formally, just jeans and a hoodie, but it’s more than you’ve come to expect from Kozume. Somehow, it only makes him seem more alien. “I’ve got few meetings today, Tetsuro’s out of town, Bokuto’s training, and Akaashi doesn’t get off until this afternoon, so you should have the house to yourself until sunset, at least.” There’s a glance to the floor, a quiet laugh. Despite everything, he can still seem shy when he wants to. “If you promise not to break anything, I could forget to lock you up before I leave. It’s not like you’d try to get out, anyway.”

“I would.” It’d be a damning confession with anyone else, but Kozume doesn’t blink twice. He’s already made up his mind, which means nothing you say matters. “I hate it here, and all of you know that.”

“Maybe, but you wouldn’t leave.” His voice is calm, his tone playful, but Kozume’s eyes narrow as he steps forward, and you square your shoulders, trying to glaring at the sheets rather than him. Still, you can feel him hovering over you, making you squirm as he goes on. “I mean, why would you want to? It’s not like have anything to go back to. Hell, from the way it looks, we might’ve been the only ones who stil pretend to miss you.”

“Of course I’d want to,” You snap, trying not to ball his sheets in your fists, trying not to acknowledge how reasonable he sounds, trying to ignore the part of your brain screaming for you to calm down before you make things worse for yourself. “I have a family. I have friends. I have a life outside of lying down, closing my eyes, and letting you live out whatever sick, perverted fantasy you’re trying to--”

“That’s not what I asked.” He doesn’t try to talk over you. He doesn’t have to, not when there’s already so little strength behind your argument. “You should want to escape, but…” Finally, his smile falters, but the unbothered frown that takes its place is no less comforting. He shrugs as he speaks, and you have to fight the urge to shrink into yourself. “Do you?”

You open your mouth. You open your mouth, then you close it again, then you close your eyes and drag your knees up to your chest, glaring childishly at the mattress, behaving exactly how they want you to. Kozume doesn’t try to push you any further. He doesn’t ask another question, he doesn’t force you to anwer, only sighing as he drapes an arm over your shoulder, slotting himself against your side, holding you. It’s cruel of him to do. It’s a small mercy. It’s nothing, it means nothing, but he’s mocking you, at the same time, belittling you, humiliating you. You hate him for it, but at the same time, you’re not sure you can. You’re so tired. You’re so, so tired, and you’re not sure you can be anything else, anymore.

You’re not sure you know if he’s wrong, anymore.

[mochegato]

I Can’t Fight This Feeling

Chapter 3

Chapter 1     Chapter 2

He just came here for a fucking break.  Somewhere none of the people he normally works with would be caught dead.  Which is the only reason he was in an art museum right now.  Because Black Mask aside, none of Gotham’s rogues or henchmen had the slightest interest in art and Black Mask would never deign to be in the presence of Gotham’s unwashed masses.

So here, this place, it was a safe haven.  A relaxing place.  A place where he could let his mind wander and his guard down, as much as you could anywhere in Gotham.  It had absolutely nothing to do with the painting of a dark haired, blue eyed woman glancing hopefully into the distance that he had been staring at for the last hour, the same painting he ended up in front of every time he visited.

But his peaceful reprieve was being intruded upon.  He couldn’t see the person, but he could feel their eyes boring into him.  They’ve been on him for at least the last ten minutes.  That meant it was more than just someone who wanted to hit on him. They would have made their move already. He would give them five more minutes to move on before he acted, but he could feel his rage rising with each passing second.  

After another five minutes, he rounded on them, ready to threaten them until they regretted even breathing in the same building as him.  “What are you fucking…” he hissed out, but his anger dissipated when he was met with the same blue eyes that had consumed his mind for the last hour. Or rather, if he were being honest, for the last three years.  “…looking… at.”

“Oh, sorry,” her eyes widened in surprise before she looked away awkwardly. “That must have seemed so creepy. It’s just… you look so familiar?  I could swear I know you from somewhere.” Her eyes returned to his, searching them for familiarity.

He stared at her wide eyed.  She couldn’t be here.  Why would she be here… in Gotham.  She didn’t belong in Gotham.  She was supposed to stay in Paris where it was safe, now that Hawkmoth was gone and the League couldn’t track her, where she could stay innocent.  “Marinette,” he breathed out.  

She gave him a brilliant smile and let out a relieved breath.  “Oh good.  You do know me.”  She laughed nervously.  “I’ve never remembered anyone from that time before.  And it has to be from that time, right?  Otherwise I’d remember how I know you.”

“What are you doing here?”  He continued to stare at her still in a haze.  She had somehow gotten even more beautiful in the last few years, her eyes brighter.  God, they had always been mesmerizing, but now they were positively hypnotic.  Maybe that had more to do with getting away from the Hawkmoth situation, being free again, not bogged down by the responsibility of protecting millions of people as a child, being in a whole new time in her life.  He was so lost in thought, it took a second for her words to register.  “What do you mean ‘that time’?”

“I was looking for a little design inspiration.”  Her voice was unsteady, slightly shaking.  She tapped her fingers together nervously.  “I have, um… a commission I need to figure out and homework and I have no idea what to do for the homework.  The direction was so vague or maybe it wasn’t and it’s just me.  It’s just not something that registers with me, you know.”  Her voice became stronger as she babbled.  “Like, I can design a thousand dresses based on a flower, or the rain, or a building, but design based on a heart?  I can’t do it.  Ask for something based on a star?  I got it. A circle?  Hundreds of designs.  A square?  Got that too. Even a triangle would be fun.  But a heart?  So cliché.”

“I meant,” he interrupted harsher than he intended to.  He let his voice soften.  “What are you doing in Gotham?”

“Oh!” Her eyes widened in surprise and embarrassment.  “I go to school here.  My best friend and I moved here last year for school.  I go for design.  He wants to be a teacher.”

“In Gotham?” he asked incredulously.  “Of all the places you could have gone, why Gotham?”

She tilted her head to the side in consideration, weighing her words carefully. It was the first time since they started talking that her body seemed to relax.  He studied her body language a bit more.  No, not relax, slump.  Her shoulders slumped as she thought of the reason that brought her here.  “Because Gotham doesn’t judge,” she answered quietly. “Because you can just disappear in Gotham.  No matter your past, as long as you aren’t actively trying to hurt them, nobody cares. There’s no hostile looks, no glares, no thinly veiled insults or completely unveiled insults.  You can just be.”

Jason’s heart clenched and his anger started to build.  He took a step closer to her.  “Why was that important to you?  Who was looking at you like that?”  He kept his voice even and calm, but he was sure his eyes were starting to show hues of green edging in.

She shook her head and looked down.  “Not me.  My best friend.  He tried moving to London and New York, but it just… seemed to follow him everywhere he went.  I mean he still had all his friends but… they started getting into trouble too because they were getting into fights defending him and… yeah.  So we applied to transfer here and both got accepted to our different schools.”

He nodded in understanding.  That seemed like something she would do; uproot her entire life for a friend.  “Gotham is good like that.  They let you rebuild yourself.  We’ve seen too much pain to judge too much.”  He looked away for a few seconds before he realized something.  “You never answered the second question.  What did you mean ‘that time’?”

“Oh… um…” she looked away awkwardly again and shuffled her feet a few times. “I have amnesia?  I lost a few years of my life a few years ago.”

“Amnesia?”

“Yeah, it was super weird.  I wasn’t even in an accident.  No physical injuries.  Just memory loss.”  She was rubbing the back of her neck and looking up at him sideways as she spoke.

He stared at her for a few more seconds.  That made no sense.  Why would she lose her memories like that?  The League could have done something, he supposed.  But if the League had been involved, she’d be dead. So it must be something else, something related to the miraculous was most likely.  A few years ago would put it right around when Hawkmoth was caught and Ladybug and the other miraculous heroes disappeared.

His eyes flicked to her ears.  She wasn’t wearing earrings.  She wasn’t wearing her miraculous.  He reached up toward her ears where they should be, but realized a few centimeters from her what he was doing and pulled back his hand like he’d been stung.  She lost being a hero.  Could the miraculous really do that?  Remove any parts of a memory that related to the miraculous?

“Um, speaking of losing things.  I don’t remember your name,” she prodded shyly.

“Jason.  Jason Todd,” he answered, still somewhat in a daze, still focused on her ears.  

She smiled at the answer, but her lips quickly turned down into a slight frown. The shift caused his hear to stutter. Why was she frowning?  Did his name bring back who he was?  No, that couldn’t be it.  She never knew his name.  So why the frown?  Did she… had she heard of him?  Was she disappointed in him?  Was she scared of him?  Was she aghast at the approach he took to cleaning up Gotham?

The thought pressed against his chest like a vice.  Every decision he’d made since he left her in that park had been touched by her.  Would she approve?  Would she understand?  It didn’t change how he acted… usually.  He still did what he needed to do, what needed to be done.  But the thought was still there.  Would she think he was the evil villain he tried so hard to be?  He knew she would be disappointed, but seeing it reflected on her face was something else.  He steeled himself and rolled his shoulders in false nonchalance. He gave her a forcefully charming smile. “What’s the matter, don’t like the name?”

She quirked her head to the side as she watched him.  Jason braced himself for whatever her next words were going to be. They had to be how disappointed she was in him, right?  Disappointed in what he became.  “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just disappointed.”  

Jason drew in a breath.  There it was. The reaction he was expecting. Even though he knew it was coming it still hurt more than he thought it would.  Why was he letting this person he didn’t even know affect him, damn it! She didn’t even know him.  She had no right!  He tried to meet her eyes so he could deliver a devastating glare, but she was staring ahead blankly.  His eyes softened involuntarily.  That’s why it hurt.  Because she was the best person he’d met, the most forgiving, and if even she thought he was disappointing, he must really be.

“I don’t remember your name,” she continued, oblivious to his reaction.  She looked back up at him with an adorable pout on her soft, pink lips.  “I was so excited that seeing you sparked something.  I guess I was hoping your name might help recover more memories. But my head, you know?”  She tapped her head with her knuckles gently.

Jason gaped at her.  She was disappointed in herself?  Not him? “No!” he cried louder than he meant to, he just couldn’t let her think this was her fault when it had to be some kind of magic.  “You never… you didn’t know my name.  And, I’ve known lots of people with amnesia.  Living in Gotham, people get their heads rattled or hit frequently. Memories are hard.  They don’t come back the way you would think they do. Sometimes they don’t ever come back at all.”

She scrunched her face in confusion.  Her lips turned down sadly.  “But… you knew my name.  And I remember you.”

Jason opened his mouth to try some kind of explanation.  He snapped his mouth shut.  What could he say?  How was he supposed to explain how he knew her?  This is where his years of training in bullshit and condescension would come in handy.  Except he didn’t want to be condescending with her, so just bullshit then.  He sighed heavily.  But he didn’t want to lie to her either, not to her.  She was the one good thing he’d done since the Pits. Helping her was his one saving grace.  “We… we weren’t friends.  We weren’t close.  I honestly have no idea why you would remember me.  I wasn’t a good person.  You knew that.”

She stared at him in surprise.  Her brows furrowed in thought, but she stayed quiet as if waiting for him to elaborate. He opened his mouth again, but snapped it shut again quickly when the sound of gunfire echoed through the museum. Jason’s head immediately snapped to the sound and he moved before he realized it to put himself between Marinette and the doorway.

Marinette sighed at the shots.  Jason whipped around to look at her.  A sigh is definitely not the response he was expecting.  It was not the normal response.  That was much closer to an emotionally damaged response, a tired of life response, a response he had tried to save her from having.  Granted his reaction wasn’t normal either, but he knew why he reacted the way he did.

She shrugged.  “The Walker Emerald,” she explained.  “It’s in the Ancient Art exhibit.”  When he still looked confused, she continued.  “It’s an Incan artifact.  They used emeralds in some of their works.  The Walker Emerald is the largest emerald they’ve found in excavations.  It’s held in place by a solid gold setting.  It’s huge.  They named it for the archaeologist that discovered it.  What bullshit is that?” she grumbled, seeming more upset by that than the gunfire.  “I stayed away from here for weeks after they opened the exhibit because I figured this would happen.  But I thought it would have happened earlier. Guess they were waiting for people to put their guard down and it worked.  I did.”

Jason moved to the doorway and peeked around the corner.  “But why now?  Why during the day when there would be people here?”

“Because security at night is a lot worse for it,” Marinette said as she peeked out next to him.  He grabbed her and pulled her back into the room behind him.  “Just my luck they would do it when I finally visited again.”  She tried to move to the doorway again but Jason pulled her back again with a scowl, moving them further from the door.  She really had no self-preservation instincts.  She rolled her eyes, but didn’t fight him, instead slumping into his side to wait for everything to blow over.  “If you remember me, then you probably already know how bad my luck is.”

He barked out a laugh at the irony.  He stopped immediately when they heard more gunfire and someone behind them call out. Marinette peeked past him again.  She cursed quietly and took off running.  Jason cursed loudly and ran to the doorway just in time to see Marinette slide into the feet of one of the goons, knocking him off his feet and into the goon next to him, knocking him down as well. Before the second guy landed, she’d jumped back up and swept a little boy who had been in their path off his feet. Fuck!  She was still acting like a hero, but without the suit or magic to help her.  

He groaned to himself.  Bad luck his ass.  That was either extreme skill or luck… or both.  But considering she hadn’t thought to follow it up by making sure they couldn’t follow her, if it was skill, it was subconscious remnants of her time as a hero, not something she could pull on at will.  And she probably hadn’t intentionally trained to be able to defend herself, because she didn’t remember being a hero, so why would she.  Which meant she had no self-preservation skills.  She was acting purely on her emotions.  She was going to get herself killed with her good heart. Where was her friend who came here with her?  Why weren’t they protecting her?  Somebody had to, since she clearly wasn’t going to do it herself.

He moved before he thought too hard about it.  The goons were already standing up, guns out and cocked, and had their eyes trained on the statue’s pedestal she was hiding behind.  He punched one in the temple, knocking him out immediately, and grabbed the gun from his hand as he fell.  He pointed the gun at the goon and was about to pull the trigger when he heard the gasp behind him.  He heard Marinette quickly fussing over the kid and telling him not to look. He groaned silently and tightened his grip on the gun.  He couldn’t kill him in front of the kid… or Marinette.  

He motioned to the gun in the goon’s hand and held his hand out.  “You know who I am, yeah?”  The goon nodded slowly.  “Give me your gun and get the fuck out of here and I won’t come after you.”  The goon dropped his gun and backed away, never turning his back on Jason until he was out of the room and rapid footfalls could be heard.

Jason took a breath and slowly let it out to calm himself before moving to Marinette’s truly terrible hiding spot.  He silently reached out for her hand to help her stand and escorted her and the kid back into the room they had been in.  The kid immediately perked up and reached out for a woman in the corner with two other kids.  She thanked Marinette and him with tears running down her face, clutching to the boy like a lifeline before bringing him back to the other two kids and holding them all the same way.

Jason yanked Marinette into his chest and wrapped his arms around her.  He watched the door for any indication they were going to send more goons after them.  After a few seconds he pulled away just enough to look at her.  “Stop doing that!” he whisper yelled.  He pulled them into the corner where they were at least partially hidden by marble statues.  “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“You ran after me,” she pointed out with a roll of her eyes.  “Were you trying to get yourself killed?”

“I… you…” he scowled at her.  He opened his mouth to lecture her more articulately, but snapped it shut again. “Let’s get you somewhere safer,” he gritted out.

She shook her head.  “I’m not leaving them and I already feel safe.  I feel safe with you.  I trust you.”  Jason scoffed at her.  How was she still alive?  Why was her friend not watching her at all times if she was this trusting and bad at judging people?  “I remember you.  You’re the only thing I’ve remembered.  That must mean you were important to me.  You wouldn’t have been important unless you did something I thought was significant. So that means I thought I could trust you.  And I trust myself that I can trust you.”  She smiled confidently at him.

Jason groaned and motioned to himself.  “Do I look like someone you can trust?” he exclaimed as loudly as he felt he could safely.  He may not be in his Red Hood suit right then, but he was definitely dressed in mob boss chic, designed to emanate a powerful asshole vibe and cultivate fear and respect.  

She kept her eyes focused entirely on his, not bothering to take in his carefully crafted vibe. Just staring at his eyes, staring into his soul, and seeking out that part of him that he thought had died years ago. That part the League had trained out of him.  The part the Joker had beaten out of him.  “Yes,” she said immediately and confidently.

He stared at her blankly.  Why would she trust him?  He was untrustworthy.  He was a killer.  He was brutal.  He had cultivated that reputation.  It was well deserved.  Hell, he’d attacked her.  And yet here she was, looking up at him with those big, bright, trusting, blue eyes.  “Okay.” He swallowed hard.  Those blue eyes were more deadly than half the rogues in Gotham.  Those blue eyes could get him to do things nobody else had ever been able to.  

It only took half an hour for the police to clear the museum and let them back out on the street, likely because some of them had been in on the heist in the first place.  It felt strange and unsettling to wait for the police instead of acting.  His skin itched to act in a way other than decking the officer that had been staring at him with distain since he came to tell them they could leave.

He escorted Marinette and the small family to the sidewalk outside and stuck next to them to make sure the police didn’t harass them.  He was determinedly not looking at Marinette, but he could feel her staring at him again.  When he finally looked over at her, he lost his breath for a second.  She was staring at him with such adoration and respect, his lungs couldn’t function correctly.  Jason frowned.  “You've got to stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I'm a hero,” he groused.  “I don’t deserve it.  I haven’t earned it.  I’m not a hero.”

Marinette blinked at him a few times and cocked her head to the side curiously.  She smiled sweetly at him.  It seemed vastly out of place considering the situation they were in and yet perfectly in place on her lips.  “You’re that kid’s hero.  And that mom’s… and mine.”

Jason stared back at her breathlessly.  “Look… you don’t remember me.  If you did…  I’m… It’s dangerous to be around me.  I’m dangerous to be around.  You shouldn't be seen with me. It's dangerous for you to even talk to me.”  She smiled softly at him.  “And why are you smiling?  I just told you to go away.”

Her smile got brighter his indignation.  “Because if you were as evil as you seem so intent on convincing me you are, you wouldn't care.  But you do, so you're not.  So I was right.”

“Pixie, you have no idea how hard I worked on my reputation, what I’ve done to deserve it.”

Marinette nodded in faux seriousness.  “Right.  Terrible person that almost died protecting a kid he never met and would do it again in a heartbeat and stayed with us to make sure we were safe.”

“Who intimidated the henchmen out of harming us, because they knew what I could do, because they knew I’m not a good guy.”

Marinette laughed.  She had the audacity to laugh at him.  He was one of the leading crime bosses in the city.  “Oh yeah, okay, Wreck it Ralph.  Whatever you say.  I bet you jaywalk and everything.”

“I do!” he exclaimed throwing his arms out in exasperation.  “I’m going to do it again when I leave here.”  She laughed harder at him.  He stopped and thought about what he just said.  “No.  I mean…”

“Truly terrifying,” she agreed, cutting off his objections, still mocking his seriousness.

Jason hung his head in defeat.  His head snapped up when he heard the batmobile arrive. “And you are safe now.  But, I have to go.”  His eyes stayed on the batmobile, analyzing the threat to him.

“Now?”

He looked back at her with a wry smile.  “Batman and I don’t get along so well.  That should tell you something.”

“It tells me even heroes make mistakes,” she said defiantly.

Jason let out a long suffering sigh, but nodded. “Stay safe, Marinette.”

“Will I see you again?”  Her eyes were brimming with hope, but her voice was fragile.  She tucked a piece of her hair that had come undone while they were escaping behind her ear. Jason’s eyes traced her hand as it moved.  

He hated to kill that in her, but he couldn’t allow her to be in his life.  He couldn’t bring her down like that.  He couldn’t see her again and he couldn’t lie to her.  He opened his mouth to answer her, but got a reprieve. “Marinette!”  She hadn’t bothered to look at the source of the call, keeping her eyes on Jason.  But, the eye contact was broken when she was tackled by a blonde man.  “I came as soon as I saw!  Are you okay?”

Jason disappeared into the crowd before she recovered from the onslaught.  No matter what she believed, he wasn’t good and he wouldn’t be good for her.  He vowed to himself that he wouldn’t look for her. He wouldn’t follow her.  He wouldn’t give any rogues or henchmen in Gotham any indication that she was special to him.  He would protect her in any way that didn’t make her a target.  He gave one last look over his shoulder just catching a last glimpse of her searching the crowd.  He turned away and continued forward.

Chapter 4

Tags:

@jasonette-july-event @jayjayspixiepop @aespades @how-to-function-properly @pawsitivelymiraculous @maribatserver

[stopeatingwhales]

playing cards x damon albarn

THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE OMG OK. hope you guys enjoy it!!!! I love arrogant damon sorry not sorry <3

Pairing: 1995 damon albarn x reader

Warnings: alcohol use

Word count: 2.339

@damonfuckingalbarn this is 4 u!!!! <3

༉‧₊˚✧

“Have this, you’ll like it far much more than what you’re drinking.”

Diverting my gaze from the beverage encapsulated in my palm, I met my view with the mysterious voice that had beckoned in my direction. “Excuse me?” I said, first landing my glare on his ethereal orbs, spheres that were so magnificent that I had to attempt a double-take; the idiosyncratic shades, merged together to create a masterpiece of different blues, as if they were small fragments of the water from most pure oceans, exemplifying the ideation of eyes that engulf you in at the instant - simply gazing into his orbs was the token I had needed to be entirely enthralled by his presence. Perhaps his gaze was too intense, too enticing, leading me on to trail my stare to admire the more gorgeous head of hair, which looked as if it hadn’t been brushed, though that portrayed its attractiveness. His face was beaming toward my direction, taking me aback slightly as I quickly ditched the sight of his face, drifting my sight to gawk at the two drinks clasped by his hands. “That looks like shit.”

A small scoff escaped his throat, evident that he was not expecting the abrupt attitude that had beckoned upon my lips. Slightly embarrassed at my dramatic remark, I adjusted my posture, accentuating such confidence that I had seemingly demonstrated so diligently with my demeanour. “Just try it.” he replied, placing one of the glasses on the dark wood counter, pushing it towards my direction lightly to prevent it from slipping off the glossy counter. Leaning my torso closer to the counter, I spent a couple seconds examining the contents of the unknown drink, it being something that I had never set my eyes upon.

Placing my original drink on the countertop, I nervously grasped the ambiguous drink that he had offered me, glancing back at him with an unsure expression illustrated on my features. In a way to reassure or encourage me, he nodded his head, resulting in me then taking a small sip to ease myself into the new flavour. Before the liquid had merely touched the back of my throat, I spat the contents back out into the glass. “That’s minging!” I choked, my face scrunching up in disgust. Focused on each move I was making, I felt his eyes continue to gawk at me as I attempted to rid the awful taste that lingered on my tongue by taking a lengthy sip of my pint, swallowing down the contents gleefully. Connecting my stare with his, I once again analysed his features, almost like my mind trying to discover what had been the true ideal that his beauty had enthralled me so rapidly just gaping at him. Perhaps I had over-emphasised his gorgeousness too much, though my doubts were denied as soon as my view had set upon his face once again. He had a smirk carefully illustrated at the side of his lip, curving the top of his cheek slightly, his face sculpted so delicately it urged the want to caress your finger against his skin, it conveying the impression that it was so soft, accentuating the prettiness of his facial features. Something inside me was itching towards the fact that he was somebody I knew, or at least somebody that I had seen somewhere, until it had clocked that he was from television, more specifically Top Of the Pops, last night. "You're that singer from that art school band, aren't you?" I questioned, my vision squinted together as I challenged my active recall abilities. “Damon isn’t it?”

"Wow, you know your music!" he laughed, edging his arm to rest on the counter. The stare orchestrated between us remained, as I left my mind to ponder over the common-knowledge of how men were like in bands. Aware of what he was going to solicit, and knowing that he would think it was going to be extremely easy, I had to prepare myself not to fall for it, no matter how good-looking or tempting the concept engulfed in my brain made it out to be. "Want to go out for dinner tomorrow?"

“No, sorry.” I bluntly replied, breaking the poignant eye contact to down the rest of my drink, slightly forcing the glass containing the beverage he had offered me, back to him. If I had my eyes lingering on his for any longer, I’d end up doing something I’d highly regret the next morning.

“Why not?” he quizzed, bewildered by my sudden response. Clearly he had never had a woman decline his offer before, or was definitely not expecting it after he had gone head to head and won against the second biggest band in the country the night previous. So arrogant.

“Because I don’t want to?” I replied, slightly amused by how perplexed he had gotten. Darting my eyes around the dimly-lit room, my gaze fixated on a booth consisting of boys that, from my vague memory, believed were his band members. Knowing that he was still looking at me, I allowed a smirk to fall on my lips as I thought of what to say next. “I've actually got my eye on that guy over there," I mumbled, pointing towards the familiar booth of boys, my index finger lingering on the tall, lanky boy, whose hair looked as soft as the petals of a newly-bloomed rose. Granting my finger to saunter for a while, it directed enough time for Damon to swivel his head around to see whomever I was speaking about. "Alex, isn't it?"

Switching my focus back to look at him, I noticed his jaw clench at my remark, his orbs dawdling over the three boys who had been engrossed in conversation. Feeling the smirk on my face widen, I relished in the sensation of battering his ego - even if it was just slightly. A small laugh escaped his throat as he locked his gaze with mine, clicking his tongue as he sneered, understanding what I was trying to do to him. It was a forced chuckle, most likely portrayed out of annoyance,  “Look, I just think you’re really pretty, alright?”

Chewing on my bottom lip, I felt my stomach ignite at his frustration towards my obnoxiousness. Butterflies were blooming in my stomach as a certain heat flushed over my cheeks, my body mindful that I couldn’t keep up with such a persona for a much longer time. As well as this, it would potentially drive him away, which at this rate I didn’t want him to do, so I thought of the best possible solution to bring his hopes up, reaching to the ground underneath the barstool to grasp my bag, taking out a deck of cards. “Let’s play snap.” I exclaimed, beginning to shuffle the card deck.

“And you just carry those around do you?”

“It’s fun to play.” I replied, splitting the deck and then sliding him his share.

“Can I just get you a drink?” He groaned, though a small smile had perched on his lips at the irregularity of the situation. A girl is asking him to play cards after she simply rejected him, at a bar.

“You already did, Damon, and it was shit.” I spat back, fixing my eyes on his once again. He looked slightly offended at the insolence I demonstrated towards his efforts, which, for some reason, sank my heart a little. “If you win this game, I'll give you a second chance.”

“Deal,” He beamed, the signature devilish grin of his painted on his lips once again. “Might as well get you that drink now.” he added, his arrogance seeping through his teeth.

As we began placing our cards in the middle of the table, one after another, the environment was tense as to when two cards of the same origin would land upon each other. It was funny, I had gone out tonight to blow off steam from the stresses that work had offered me the past week, and somehow I had landed myself playing a game of cards with undoubtedly the most famous musician in Britain at the moment. “I’m not falling for it, you know.” I said, avoiding his gaze.

"Then why are you doing playing cards with me, love?" he interrogated, the sneer on his lips evident by his lustrous tone. He was right; his obvious pretentiousness, and egocentrism only edged me towards loving his company just that much more, which had disgracefully increased my attraction to him, but of course I wasn’t going to admit that, hell, I was adamant that I wasn’t going to fall for it, even though that was exactly what I had been doing this entire time - sinking down a hole of allurement from his persona that panned something inside of me that I wasn’t able to pinpoint on. Pop star effect, I suppose.

Completely silenced by his comment, I felt a certain radiance tease it’s way to my cheeks once again, edging me into humiliation even more to the fact that he could tell the effect his words were having on me - the sly grin on his features was felt in the tension shared between us. In an endeavour to shy away my embarrassment, I dragged out my packet of Marlboro cigarettes, snatching one from its packaging and lighting it before placing another card down on the deck that had been piling up since we had started. Inhaling sharply, I allowed the cancerous smoke to escape my lungs, my body adorning the relaxed feeling that seeped through after. “Can I have one?”

“No.”

“Why not? Your pack’s full!”

Pausing my movements before taking another hit from the roll of tobacco, a smirk lingered on my lips as I let my head rest on my palm, keeping my body upright. "Why? Those songs of yours not selling much?" I mocked, blowing another whiff of smoke into his face, the stunned expression held on his face only exhilarating me more in what felt like... control, though from the way he had been acting, I knew that such power was not going to last for a long while. "Put a card down, for goodness sake."

Scoffing, he followed my demand, though the card he placed down was the exact same as the one I placed down before, ensuing his hand slamming suddenly on top of the card deck, my mouth agape as I realised that he had won. “Look who won!”

A beam covered my face as I shook my head, watching him grab the attention of the bartender, asking for another drink that once again, I hadn’t heard of before. Once the bartender was done preparing the beverage, Damon passed it over to me, another grin captured on his expression. Sighing, I discarded the remains of my cigarette before taking a sip of another, unknown drink, the feeling of déjà vu hitting me as I had enraptured myself in the same situation when we had first spoken. "For fucks sake Damon, this tastes worse than the last one."

"More for me then, isn't it?" he grinned, my mind now aware that he had simply ordered such an appalling drink to agitate me. Be that as it may, he was aggravating, and took delight into making one’s time horribly spent, there was something about him that kept me latched onto him. Perhaps it was his glowing features, which were so enticing that it blinded me into thinking that he was the only other person in the room, and the only other person that I could set any fragment of attention towards.

"Stop pissing me off, you twat." I mumbled, looking at my bag as I placed the card deck back inside, it not proving much use to the situation anymore.

"You could quite easily just walk away, if I’m pissing you off this much.” he said, his head tilted to the side as his eyes lingered on me, practically forcing me to connect our gazes once again. “Doors just there, love." he uttered, beckoning his hand towards the timber door that divided us between the streets.

"Why would I leave when I'm getting free drinks?" I asked, trying to maintain whatever control I had over the situation, which had been deemed to have slipped out of my grasp at this given moment. The tension between us had been alleviating faster than it had been before, as we began reaching the climax of the encounter.

"You're not liking them though, are you?" he replied, face beginning to draw dangerously close to mine, his eyes flicking from my eyes to my lips every couple of seconds, contemplating how to end the situation. It was fully in control with him now; I was merely wrapped around his measly little finger, and he knew it. Our noses grazed ever-so-slightly on one another's as I felt his breath fan onto my cheeks - all I had craved for at this point was to attach my lips onto his, my breathing quickening as the realisation of just how close our bodies were to one another. "Just admit it, you're loving this." he mumbled.

"Am not." I whispered, my eyes staring at his lips as shuffled closer and closer to mine. We were both aware that what I had said was a lie, but my stubbornness wasn't ready to let that slide yet. Just as I thought we were going to connect lips, he darted his head away rapidly, the movement so swift I hadn't come to realize until a couple seconds afterwards, my cheeks now reddened to the point that I was almost convinced I had a fever.

"You fell for it, lovely." he grinned, placing a white slip on my lap, decorated with numbers to which I assumed were in relation to his telephone number. "Let me know when you're free!" he exclaimed, before waltzing off to the booth where his friends had, leaving me completely stunned, and exactly where I knew would be - absolutely encapsulated by the man known as Damon Albarn.

[slashedthroughtheheart]

Waiting for the right one

It had been 3 months since you first arrived in this place. You’d tried your hand at learning how to be a proper survivor at first before you’d truly known how the place operated. Before you knew that the survivors could leave the campfire.

You’d seen Nea sneak off when no one was looking. You’d been fairly quiet, trying to figure out where exactly you’d end up in this social hierarchy. Your nose wrinkled whenever one of these useless alpha’s tried to get closer to you while asking their invasive questions.

It was no secret that heats and ruts still happened. There was only a few omegas in the entity’s realm, and almost all of them were survivors. There was that one girl that ran with Legion that smelled vaguely like an omega, but there was talk that maybe she was a rare ometa. A hybrid of beta and omega. Granted, no one could get close, the other 3 Legion members always nearby and quickly closed ranks whenever anyone, killer or survivor alike, got too close for comfort.

They were a tight knit pack, it seemed.

When you’d arrived, you had expected a few of the girls to be omegas because of their size. You’d thought for sure the girl who introduced herself as Feng Min was going to be an omega, but only the pleasant scent of a beta washed over you when she came close to pat your shoulder after you appeared in the fog close to the campfire.

Over those first few hours, you found out that out of all the survivors, there was only 3 other omegas besides you. Nea was one, but her thinness had made you think beta at first. But you guessed she had a hard life before coming here, and being here was also hard, so there was no time to build up the softness that you’d always associated with omegas.

The one girl you’d been so sure would be an omega, Jane, had surprised you by being an alpha. She wore a smart, but slightly dirty, business suit. She looked very chic and savvy, and her hips and chest had made you think she was for sure going to be an omega. But you should have known better when she almost swaggered over to you with Feng Min to introduce herself, and then you to the rest of the people around the campfire.

You took a quick headcount, seeing how many people you were now lost with. You came up with 21 besides you, and figured that was that. So when you’d been halfway through the name introductions, with Feng sticking to one side of you, releasing calming beta pheromones to help ease your discomfort at not knowing where you’d been taken to, you were surprised when 4 more people walked out of the fog.

“Ah, and here’s our fearless leader! Dwight, we’ve got a new girl! An omega too! Careful, or she might just take yer spot.” Ace, a rather boisterous but slimy alpha smacked the one man who’d returned with the group of girls.

He had glasses, and kinda short dark hair. He seemed to be in office attire, and he screamed nervous omega as he wrung his hands in front of himself as Ace manhandled him over to where you stood.

Your suspicions were confirmed when the overwhelming scent of anxious omega wafted in the air. He’d managed to not stutter when he said a polite hello while rubbing the back of his neck, eyes not making it all the way to you, instead staring off to the side by your shoulder.

You’d simply nodded, unsure of what was going on, or why an omega was the ‘leader’ of this.. pack? You’d tried to listen to that first 5 minute explanation from a fast talking Feng, telling you they were all survivors and that they went into trials against killers and had to escape over and over again. You really did. You didn’t understand what they meant. Why were they just sitting around a campfire instead of trying to escape if there were killers loose?

You’d always been a bit different for an omega, making it later in life and only ever taking beta friends as help during your heats, never mating to an alpha. None of them ever managed to impress you, and you only agreed to the help from your beta friends because they promised not to catch feelings or try to push you into anything. They knew you wanted an alpha, and they knew how picky you were. They just didn’t like you suffering for so long through your heats with no relief in sight.

You were grateful to them, truly. It was treated as a necessary biological function by you, one that was annoying as hell when you just couldn’t find the right alpha for yourself.

Plenty had tried, coming into your personal space just oozing horny pheromones and trying to sway you that way. And the response was always the same. A very rankled omega telling them to piss off before they got authorities involved.

And no matter how interested an alpha was, the sheer lack of omegas in more recent decades gave them a lot more protection. If an omega didn’t want an alpha’s advances, the authorities as well as majority populace would stand behind the omega.

And just one time was all it took. One time an alpha kept pushing after you’d refused him.

He’d smelled almost sour to you from the get go. Skeevy through and through. He’d gone so far as to try and box you in against the wall closest to you, arm going up above your head as he leaned down to leer at you, grin lascivious as he eyed you.

Your friends had insisted on the defense lessons, knowing you were so picky about alphas and that some were just too dense for your own good.

Something in you snapped.

Red overtook you. Fury at the audacity of this alpha overstepping his bounds. Rage that no alpha had approached you properly. Shown you they were good enough to be your alpha. Shown you they could take care of you properly. None were strong enough, in command enough, sure enough of themselves without having to throw their scent around. It wasn’t them that was their strength. They always relied on their scent alone. None walked like it was them before their scent that held the power.

He wasn’t good enough, and he wasn’t taking the no gracefully.

You shook, hands balling into fists while the white hot fury spread from your breastbone out to every extremity. Every pore of your body filled with your indignity at your treatment. At the incompetence of all the alphas you’d ever met.

You almost blacked out during the interaction, but instead you almost watched yourself go through the encounter as if in a trance and looking back on a memory.

The crunch of his nose had been satisfying. His cry of pain fueled you, pushed you forward and let you know that you could do this. You were stronger than he thought. Smarter. More determined.

He choked with the hit to his throat, staggering away from you and almost falling to the side, trying to get away from your rain of fury.

When you had taken the first step to follow him, to take out your rage of years of mediocre alphas trying to posture you into things you didn’t want, the fog had rolled in out of nowhere. It had come from behind, billowing forward around your legs and going up to engulf all of you as you took your second step, so focused on getting to the prone alpha scrambling away from you in fear that you didn’t notice until the fog reached your shoulders.

And in your trance, you didn’t panic when the fog fully swallowed you up.

The cloying darkness seemed to last for so long, long enough that your anger dissipated and you were left confused and slightly anxious as the world seemed to stop existing, and you were lost to this void of roiling blackness. It was so dark, but there still seemed to be movement like smoke moving lazily about.

You couldn’t tell when or if you blinked or closed your eyes. All senses were shockingly both over and under stimulated. The silence deafening. The only scent your own slow rising panic stinging your nose. Your hands reached out, you think, but you could not see them. You could not feel anything unless you tried to grab yourself. And even then, it felt muted, like you were dreaming but not.

We’re you walking somewhere? You think you were telling your legs to move, but without being able to see, and feeling so weightless, you couldn’t be sure.

It felt like both a lot and no time at all had passed when you suddenly felt solid ground under your feet.

You wobbled a bit, disoriented by the sudden information reaching your brain. You couldn’t see even when your feet were touching ground. You held your hands out, trying to find anything, and jumped a little when your hand connected with something hard and rough. It scraped at your hand, causing you to grunt at the small discomfort.

You realized your hearing was back. You hadn’t been able to even hear your own breathing, and you swore you called out while in that darkness that had clung to every part of you just earlier.

You hadn’t realized your eyes were closed at first, shut tight against the darkness you had been afraid of.

“Hey! There’s a girl!” a higher feminine voice startled you into opening your eyes. People, you weren’t alone anymore. Maybe they could help you.

You were slightly dizzy from the transition of not being able to see even when your eyes were open, floating in the abyss that had seemed to douse all your senses.

What you had scraped your hand on was a thick tree trunk off to your left just a bit, visible to you despite the gloom pressing from all around. Compared to what you just experienced, it was bright out.

And that’s how you came to the entity’s realm. Confused and scared after finally snapping and attacking an alpha that tried to put his hands on you.

You’d been pulled towards the campfire, sat on a log between the soothing beta Feng and the other omega besides Dwight that had come from the fog. Her name was Cheryl and she did her best to help Feng try to calm your rattled nerves.

Everyone at least sympathized with you on being scared after first coming out of the fog. For some, that meant they tried to calm you down like the two had been by your side around the campfire. For others, the nicety ran out at giving you space your first day of being there.

Ace had been the first to try to proposition you, saying in such a weaselly way that you smelled mighty fine and the two of you would make quite the pair.

Your immediate refusal and disgusted face had been the turning point in his attitude towards you. While he wasn’t outwardly hostile towards you, you found yourself having to rely on the other 2 survivors to unhook you if you were caught when you went into trials with him.

He went to acting like you didn’t even exist around the fire whenever the both of you weren’t in trial. Everyone pretended not to notice, and some of the more gentle survivors would offer you a wincing smile whenever you were paired with him in trials.

After that first encounter with him, the others noted you withdrew in on yourself a lot, not even wanting Feng or Cheryl to offer their comfort or presence to you.

You’d retreated from the logs after the first trial that Ace had left you to die on hook after you’d been caught unaware by a silent man with a white mask. You were told after regenerating near the campfire that the killer you’d faced was known as the Shape, but everyone referred to him as Michael Myers, or in David’s case ‘Big silent bastard’.

And while David had never tried to approach you, you knew without a doubt he was an alpha that’s power came from his scent and not himself, despite professing a brawling background. Sure, someone could be a fighter. But did they have power all their own? David did not. None of the alphas present did, in your opinion.

And the slow understanding you gained of your situation opened your eyes to the survivor alphas being absolutely weak and pathetic in your eyes. They’d given in to being a pawn, a plaything for the entity and the killers alike. While David was the closest to being the least useless alpha, your nose still wrinkled at his use of scent to try to ward off the beta killers and to posture at the alpha ones.

The only survivors you truly respected, truly thought were worth your time to talk to were Laurie and Yui. Laurie taught you after a while how to use a shard of glass you could keep tucked somewhere on your person to stun the killers into dropping you if they’d managed to grab you.

Yui taught you how to lift a pallet after dropping it. The words ‘Hit ‘em with everything you got, then do it again.’ resonated with you so strongly, that even if it wasn’t on the same level as stabbing your captor like Laurie, it still made her stand out compared to the rest of the survivors who were barely more than worms, fearfully eking out an existence around the campfire.

It felt like they were the only ones not just struggling for their lives like everyone else, but truly fighting back.

And if Elodie wasn’t so complacent in being sneaky, her showing you how to pull a pallet down while being carried by the killer would have put her in the pool of respectable survivors.

In your first two months, you learned very little outside of what the killers were called and how they could hurt and kill you in matches.

You noticed only whenever they had managed to catch you if the killer was an alpha or a beta.

And in those first two months, you had thought you’d met all the killers in trials.

There had been another new girl, a beta, right before you. Her name was Yun-Jin, and she kept her distance from everyone just like you did, but you had a feeling it was for different reasons than your own. She looked at everyone with a shrewdness in her expression. Like she knew something no one else did, and she knew how to use the information she had.

You had no doubt she’d sacrifice any single survivor there if it meant saving her own hide. And while self-preservation was an understandable thing, you didn’t agree with the methods of stepping on someone else to do it.

Sure, you held disdain for any of the alphas in the group, but you don’t think you’d go out of your way to use them if it meant your own safety. You may have purposefully blocked Ace once when he’d wanted to keep running and go through a building while in a chase with the Killer, but you’d played it off as being scared and thought the heartbeat had been coming from somewhere else.

No one said anything about it, but some of the survivors were a bit more wary of being near you in trials after that. They couldn’t prove you’d done it on purpose, and Ace hadn’t said anything besides ‘You blocked me in that last trial and it got me caught.’ It seems he had accepted your lie, or deemed it not worth fighting over. Maybe he was scared if he pushed the issue, you’d bring up how he purposefully let you die on hook that one time, and how he ignored you hooked every match now.

Either way, you drifted further and further from the group. It only took a week before you stopped sitting on the logs around the campfire after the Ace incident. Standing in the close treeline around the fire.

And then it went further, you retreated farther from the comforting light. Taking solace in the solitude while sitting at the base of a tree a good 30 or 40 feet from the campfire. It seemed that for the most part, no one ventured quite as far as you did.

Until you saw Nea sneak away.

And she went even further than you.

You’d followed just a bit, curious at how far she’d go, so you tried to keep a line of sight on her.

And as you maneuvered to get line of sight, you crossed path with the trail of scent she left behind. It was stronger than normal, and you had a realization that she was sneaking away because she was going into heat.

You wondered for a moment if she was just going to suffer out in the woods alone instead of turning to one of the alphas or betas in camp. But then, as you continued to follow at a good distance, you noticed the forest thinning out, and the walls of one of the realms come into sight.

Flabbergasted that the realms you did trials in were able to be gotten to from the campfire, you stood out in the open amidst the thinned out trees, just staring at the walls with a growing sense of agitation.

Why had no one told you that you could truly leave the campfire?

Surely Nea wasn’t the only one who knew this information. Someone else, anyone else, had to have noticed her absence from the campfire and have done just as you had. There’s no way at least one other person didn’t know.

You don’t know why this upset you, but it did.

And now you faced a predicament. You wanted to keep following all the way into the realm. You weren��t sure which place it was, but you wanted to know. You wanted to see. You wanted to know if all the realms could be found.

The only thing that had you hesitating was running into Nea, or one of the killers. You didn’t know if Nea was actually allowed to be here, considering she did sneak away in the first place. So you didn’t know if you were allowed. What if the killers could hurt you outside of the trials too? What if entering their realms gave them power over you?

Indecision gripped you for a few long moments, curiosity warring with it inside your mind.

You stood, one foot slightly lifted off the ground as if to take a step back towards the campfire, but after finally throwing caution to the wind, you turned back towards the entrance of the realm, boldly striding in.

If you weren’t meant to be there, it was probably better to act like you weren’t sneaking around and then plead ignorance than be caught sneaking.

It was a slim chance at safety, but you reasoned with yourself that the survivors would be way more scared around the campfire if the killers could hurt you outside of the trials.

So you walked in like you owned the place. Like you were meant to be there.

And upon entering Glenvale, you were surprised that it looked different than when you were here in a trial.

None of the buzzards were picking at long dead flesh. No hooks to be seen.

In fact, it’s like it was what you assumed the actual Glenvale looked like in real life and not the horrific replica that you traipsed around in during trials.

There even seemed to be a sense of warmth to the area, as if it was only just reaching sunset. It was nothing like the gloom hanging around campfire.

You were immediately drawn to it, furious that this existed and you hadn’t know about it until just now. And even if you weren’t supposed to be here, even if some killer came out and told you off for being here, you’d tell them off right back and demand to be let in. You didn’t want to sit with those worms content to be around a measly little campfire when there was this right here.

You looked around, sizing up all the restored buildings around you. You figured if the trials were anything to go by, the saloon would probably be where anyone would be.

And you had questions you wanted answered. Either by Nea, or whoever else might be here.

And so you walked forward, with even more purpose and determination in your step now. You could hear from the street that there was life inside of the saloon. Couldn’t see anyone or anything really from it, but you could hear the low murmur that indicated chatting. That could be someone having caught Nea, but you doubted it from the relaxed tone of it.

You couldn’t hear much until you almost made it to the steps. Once you finally made it to the front of the saloon, looking up the steps and to the swinging doors, you listened out to try to figure out who was talking.

The voices weren’t familiar in the slightest, and there was at least 3 distinct male voices from what you could tell. One was high and nasally, another a bit lower, and the last was hardly anything more than bass.

You didn’t hear Nea, which did make your anxiety kick up just a bit. But before you could second guess yourself and talk yourself out of going in, you marched up the steps, determined to get answers.

Although, your anxiety did have you more gingerly opening just one of the swinging doors rather than making a loud entrance by bursting in through both.

And you were glad for it, because even with your much quieter entrance, the conversation inside still died as all eyes in the saloon landed on you and stared.

Your nerve was tested, as you looked back at a room just absolutely full of killers. Almost every table without an open chair.

It felt like forever, the quiet staring match lasting so long in your head even though it was really only a few seconds before you steeled your resolve with a small breath in before walking further forward.

“I have some questions. First, why the fuck did no one tell me these places existed outside of trials?” At your words and attitude, a few of the killers blinked and then looked around at each other. One in particular, one of the alpha ones you’d gone head to head with a few times since coming here, stood.

“Hey now little lady, ain’t no reason to get cross with us. Ain’t like we can come on over to your cozy little campfire and just chat you up.” At this, one of the smaller killers pipes in, the one with the garish mask and dark clothes. “Not that we didn’t wanna, what with you being one fine piece of ass.”

The big guy who’d stood up, the one you’d been told was the Trapper, grunted at the interruption and turned his head slightly and barked out a harsh “Danny.” sufficiently cowing the smaller man, who held his hands up and went “Woah, just giving the girl a compliment, jeez.”

At his mutterings, the Trapper let out another grunt, this one lower and even more of a warning than his word had been.

At this, the other folded his arms, making a ‘tch’ noise before grumbling out a barely audible “Fine, whatever.”

You prickled at both what the big guy and the smaller guy said. “Cozy? That’s what you wanna call that dreary little shithole?” Irritation at the whole situation making you a lot more angry than you’d been when first entering, making your attitude flare up.

You watched while the trapper reached up, hand slipping under his mask he still wore, like he was wiping at his face exasperatedly.

“Listen, we don’t want no trouble with you, alright? What are your other questions you had? You got the answer to your first one, so what else can I answer for ya, little survivor?” He crossed his arms, but kept his whole body relaxed like he was purposefully trying to appear non-threatening despite his obvious irritation.

You crossed your own arms, foot tapping, showing your own frustration.

“Well, why do you all get to be here, but survivors don’t?”

At this he lets out a low chuckle, the irritation bleeding away a bit. “Well, you’re standing here, ain’t cha?”

This caught you off guard a bit. So you were allowed to be here?

You ventured into the next question a bit more cautiously. “Where’s Nea?”

It wasn’t the exact question you’d wanted to ask, but if survivors were allowed to be here, then Nea was here while they knew about it. Probably seeking relief for her heat with one of the killers, since so many of them were gathered here.

This one seemed to throw the big man off though. “She ain’t here. Ain’t been by at all, s’far as I know. Did you follow her here then? Is that how you found this place?”

You gave a small nod. “She snuck away from the campfire, don’t blame her. Most everyone there is a pathetic alpha or a scared beta. I thought she’d come in here, considering…” you stopped talking as you realized maybe it wasn’t a good idea to reveal Nea was going into heat to the killers who didn’t know she had come here.

“Considering?” He prompted you after you trailed off, and you gestured vaguely. “Considering this is like… the main building?” You hoped that would be enough to cover your blunder, but somehow doubted it.

He stood still for a moment more, before letting his arms fall to his sides. “Well, she ain’t been through here in a while, maybe she came to meet up with someone or to just hide away in one of the outer buildings. Ain’t my business what she does as long as it doesn’t hurt one of mine.”

You almost snorted at that thought, but managed to just make a derisive face instead. “Right, because we could totally hurt one of you if given the chance. Totally.”

Thankfully your snark garnered you a laugh from the big man while the rest of the saloon slowly picked up their forgotten conversations, everyone seemingly able to pick up the atmosphere all at the same time.

“More so than you think, little survivor.” He turned, while doing a follow motion as he went back to the table he’d stood up from.

“C’mon, might as well get to know ya, since I get the feeling you’re gonna be underfoot from here on out.”

And so the last month went by, you getting to know and spend more time with most of the killers. They generally tolerated your presence, some more welcoming than others. The Trapper, who’d introduced himself as Evan, was probably the most amiable towards you.

He didn’t step over any boundaries, but it also seemed he showed no true interest in you. Part of you was disappointed, since he seemed to be the only alpha in attendance that was anywhere close to interesting to you. But the other part knew that if he wasn’t interested, then he wasn’t what you really wanted anyways.

Danny, who you had known as Ghostface, had tried to proposition you when Evan had gotten up to go into a trial, but you quickly turned him down, trying your best not to sneer at him now that the only killer you had felt for sure would protect you was gone.

He had accepted your refusal with a bit more grace than you expected, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d target you in trials for it like Ace ignored you for the refusal you’d given him.

And at your swift refusal of Danny, most the killers assumed you just weren’t interested period, thankfully.

You went on doing trials day in and day out, not that there ever seemed to be a visual passage of time. The entity seemed pleased with your efforts, rewarding you with new clothes here and there, and gifting you tools to use in the trials that would make them just a bit easier.

Now that you’d gotten to spend some time with the killers, you’d quietly learned some of their quirks. Your observation skills were fairly good after a lifetime of sizing up alphas who approached you.

You escaped trials more often than not, currying the entities favor easily and earning you a small reputation of being a slippery survivor among both groups.

And just as you resigned yourself to forever being alone, knowing that escaping the entities clutches was nigh impossible, you finally got placed in a trial with the killer you’d only heard about from the survivors at this point. You only knew a vague physical description of a flashy male killer that was all about showmanship.

He’d yet to show up to the saloon in your time of visiting it. You wondered if it was just always missing him when you came around, or if he just didn’t hang around with anyone else.

The trial started off easy enough, you started solo near a gen that had a chest nearby, gaining a rather nice toolbox that helped you finish off the first gen quickly before anyone even got hurt.

You strained your hearing as you carefully picked your way through the realm to the next gen you could see. So far there hadn’t been a heartbeat that you could hear and you wondered if you were against Myers or maybe even Danny.

And then you heard someone scream while going down on the other side of the map, and you couldn’t tell from that if it was one of the silent killers or not.

You knew it wasn’t plague, pig, or Freddy because you hadn’t run into any fountains or trap removal spots, and you hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

You crouched in front of your generator, wondering where anyone was. You had seen where the person downed was hung, but they got unhooked pretty quickly. Was everyone else on that side of the realm?

You almost blew your gen when who you assumed to be the savior of the last hooked person was downed without even being hit before, and you felt dread.

The music for a tier 3 Myers hadn’t played, and you hadn’t felt like it was Danny, so who else could down someone without hitting them?

No totems had been cleansed, so it wasn’t haunted grounds. They hadn’t gotten pulled off a gen or out of a locker.

As you thought harder about who it could be, you felt your palms sweating, forcing you to pay extra attention to the gen in front of you, almost missing the last person getting instant downed while the killer was still carrying someone.

You finished your gen just as the second person got hooked, and you felt a moment of fear root you to the spot as you debated trying to go for the unhook save.

There was no screaming before the downs, so it wasn’t clown throwing his bottles at people.

As you contemplated your next move, inching along an outcropping and trying to get line of sight on the hook, and maybe see where the killer was, Feng popped up next to you, holding in her sounds of pain well enough that you hadn’t even heard her approach.

You set about patching her up, a bit rattled from the knowledge that you really didn’t know who it was, and you didn’t feel safe enough to ask out loud who it was to Feng.

She nodded at you, a thanks for the heal as she ran off in the opposite direction of the hooked survivor. Looks like it was up to you, or maybe the fourth survivor, but they were still hurt.

You felt on edge, the back of your scalp itching like you were being watched but you couldn’t spot the killer or even hear the heartbeat that let you know if they were close or not.

It was Kate on the hook, already struggling with the entity. You felt a pang of guilt, realizing you might have gotten to her sooner if you hadn’t froze early by your finished gen.

Just as you reached up, pulling her off completely, you felt a sting on your side.

Letting out a small whine as you looked in the direction of whatever was thrown your way, and making eye contact with a tall man in a yellow coat, who was grinning as he held another little throwing knife. He was still a good distance away, but you could have sworn you saw him wink at you before throwing the next knife that hit your shoulder.

Kate and you quickly scattered, and you tried to put things in between you and the killer, feeling another sting every 4 or 5 seconds, not giving you a moments reprieve.

Just as you reached the building, you felt a knife hit a particularly tender spot, making you cry out and almost double over before you sprinted as far away as you could get, going deep into the building, hoping the basement was at the killer shack this trial.

You felt another sting hit your shoulder, and you really didn’t have the time to try to check behind you as you desperately ran through the building, trying to duck and weave, not knowing exactly where he was coming from in your panic to escape him.

You could hear him now, and the heartbeat that always kicked up around killers. You could never tell if it was your own heart the entity made to beat so intensely, or if it was the killers themselves, and it was a projection.

At this point, you really didn’t ask questions, since it seemed no one really had the answers to those ones.

You felt the fear kick up even more as he seemed to laugh in amusement at your struggles. You managed to get out the other side of the building, running into a spooked Claudette as you vaulted out of the building. She was still bleeding from getting unhooked earlier and you realized she must have been the first person to be hooked.

After the first moment of shock, you both split apart as you heard the ting of a blade barely missing you and hitting the place right above your head.

You made a mad dash to the left, leaving Claudette to run off to the right as you heard the killer vault the window smoothly. You turned the corner, hoping that being out of sight would make him run a different way but you wouldn’t hold your breath.

A swift feeling of guilt hit you as you hobbled away from the building, hearing the heartbeat fade and you knew he had gone for Claudette instead of you.

And your suspicions were confirmed when you heard her scream and saw her go down inside the building. You hadn’t been paying attention as you ran through, more concerned about avoiding those awful knives, so you felt your dread building as you waited to see where he would hook Claudette, hoping the basement wasn’t in the main building.

You crouched behind a silent generator, immediately getting to work on coaxing it to life as your fears were confirmed. You could see the outline of Claudette being hooked in the basement of the building, a sour taste filling your mouth at that.

She was struggling, but you were hurt. Going into the basement without getting healed was asking to have two hooked instead.

You carefully worked on the gen, keeping both an eye and an ear out for the killer, almost slipping when another gen got completed on the other side of the building, drawing the killers attention away from where you were for sure.

And just after the gen finished, you head the scream of Feng going down on first hit again. How was he doing that? His knives hurt, but it took a long time before he even managed to really hurt you with them. The sheer adrenaline of trying to survive in the trial made it so you brushed off most the hits until it had just been too many.

The sour taste in your mouth grew as Kate’s scream followed almost immediately after, and suddenly you were the only standing survivor.

You felt remorse for not taking the killers attention when you watched Claudette be taken by the entity from the basement just as you started towards the building again.

You had to at least try to get Feng or Kate up, you couldn’t let them die like you’d let Claudette die.

You tried you hardest not to cry out as you made it through the building towards where you could see Kate still on the ground, trying not to bleed out. You couldn’t quite stop the whimpers, but you did manage to make it to her undetected so far.

You could hear the heartbeat, but it was faint. Poor Feng was being taken away from the building. You didn’t have to touch Kate much before getting her up, and the moment you pulled her to her feet, she bolted from you. You wanted to call out, to have her let you heal her up before you went on, but she was running in the direction you’d come from instead.

You shook your head slightly, quickly making your way towards Feng, who’d been hooked just as you picked Kate up.

She was holding the entity back, but just barely. You made eye contact with her, and almost cried out when she saw you and then just let go. You’d been coming to get her, you were so close, just behind a rock nearby.

The heartbeat was fading too, why did she give up?

You grit your teeth, upset with yourself for letting two of them down in one match.

Your attention was called back to the building when you heard Kate scream again, watching in horror as she was pulled from a locker by the killer and swiftly carried to the basement, instantly being taken by the entity once hooked.

If you had been quicker earlier, she could have at least held off the entity for a bit, given you a chance to try and save her.

If you had just been quicker, and not so scared of the new killer.

You held in your want to cry out, to lament your failure this trial. You had to try to escape, to find the hatch. You couldn’t let their sacrifices go in vain. You were one of the survivors who always escaped, you had to do this.

You threw caution to the wind, making a quick of a run towards killer shack as you could, hoping that hatch would spawn there like you knew it did often.

You heard his laughter at almost the same time the heartbeat started again.

Fear spiked, gripping your own heart as you felt the first burning sensation of a knife hit your lower back. It wasn’t enough to drop you, but it did hurt.

You couldn’t make yourself run any faster, and there wasn’t many trees or rocks to hide behind in this direction. You felt the hot sting of metal bite into your shoulder then the middle of your back, and one winged by and sliced your cheek. He was throwing quickly, one after the other. Two more hit your back, one hit your upper thigh and another hit your back. He missed two when you almost staggered, going off behind the first rock you’d come into.

You knew the jig was up, you could only dance around the rock with him for so long, feeling a knife hit the front of your shoulder this time as you switched directions, still trying to get away.

The next one would make you go down, you were barely standing as it. You felt the blood drip down from the cut on your cheek, the wounds all over your body screaming for your attention and making it hard to focus on dodging any more.

You hadn’t made anymore eye contact with him ever since the first time when you’d unhooked Kate. Something inside of you was scared at how he’d react to more. He seemed to like being looked at, having gotten more vicious when there was more than one person nearby, when he’d downed Kate and Feng back to back.

You almost tripped, and that was your undoing. Uneven footing made you falter for just a split second, and it was enough for him to clear the side of the rock and land his last knife, burying into the front of your thigh, biting in deep and making you collapse finally.

You fell forward, doing your best to hold yourself up long enough that the fall didn’t dig the knife in deeper before the entity made it disappear from you like it had the others.

You lay there, cursing yourself for fumbling so much through the match, and not just committing to saving the other survivors earlier on.

You heard him almost panting as he approached, a manic giggle leaving him, excited to have finally caught the last of the survivors.

There was no more energy left to even turn your head to look at him, you just laid there, weakly groaning as all the little wounds caught up and really made their presence known.

He stood over you, the heartbeat almost deafening as you waited for him to haul you up and carry you to a hook any moment now.

When he didn’t pick you up for a solid ten seconds, you finally rolled yourself just enough to look up at him. And what you saw both terrified you and sent a thrilling shiver down your spine.

He was staring down at you, as if transfixed by what he saw.

You were still in too much pain to really take much else in, but when he suddenly knelt down over you, hand reaching out to tip your chin up to look at him fully, you gasped.

The rich scent of alpha finally made it to your nose, but you realized even during chases, he hadn’t been pushing any scent out. And he had sounded rather excited. Something was trying to click together inside your brain, but you were a little too out of it and too shocked by his actions to piece the information your brain was trying to put together into one cohesive piece.

He leaned down just a bit, his gaze roving around your face, his thumb and forefinger holding your head still in his hands.

You stayed perfectly still, not sure if it was fear or something else keeping you in place as he examined you closely.

“미인”

In your dazed state, you misheard him. “Hey, I’m not that tiny…” sure, almost all the killers were taller than you, but he didn’t have to say you were mini.

His head cocks to the side, before a boisterous laugh escapes him, startling you. “Ahh, you only speak English then.”

His smile is nothing like the manic grin you’d caught glimpses of during the trial, it’s a bit more at ease. Just a bit though. You could tell there was something lurking beneath the surface.

Maybe if you weren’t so out of it from the blood loss, you might have pulled away from his deepened touch.

“I said miin, which means beautiful.” His grin doesn’t quite reach manic again, but it does change from the mirthful one from earlier to one that was predatory.

He keeps your chin in his grasp for a few moments more as you register what he said, before suddenly hauling you up onto his shoulder and walking off in a direction you couldn’t ascertain from your position and the sudden dizziness from being carried.

All you’re able to do is steady yourself just enough by pressing your hands against his back, but you don’t try to struggle out. Honestly, you’re just too tired to at this point. You’d been bleeding for a while now, and while it had slowed to a sluggish trickle, you’d still lost a lot of blood.

He easily walked along, hardly even slowed down with you on his shoulder. He was humming as he headed towards wherever he was going, arm keeping you securely on his shoulder by wrapping around your lower back.

Just as you were about to muster the courage to ask where this strange alpha was taking you, since you’d seen him pass several hooks on his journey, he was hauling you back over his shoulder, holding you in front of himself for a moment before giving you a grin that sent chills up and down your spine as he let you drop straight into the open hatch.

The last thing you saw before you reappeared at the campfire was his gaze staying steady on you as that grin split his face.

You came to near the logs everyone sat on, still disoriented but instead of blood loss, it was the normal dizziness that came from regenerating from trials.

Even if you were still a bit wobbly, you turned away from the fire and started your way towards the edge of the forest, determined to find that strange killer.

You played the trial over and over in your head again, trying to figure out just what was drawing you to him.

Just as you reached the edge of the forest and it thinned out, you realized he hadn’t been using his scent at all during the trial. You’d barely been able to figure out he was an alpha and only when he had gotten close enough to carry you.

You stopped at the edge, a dawning epiphany hitting you, one your brain had tried to show you in the trial. He was strong… without his scent. Honestly, you didn’t think he’d even used his scent at all during the trial, even when he’d picked you up.

Meanwhile, you were sure you’d probably been subconsciously scenting off in fear. Maybe that’s what had him pausing at the end, when he’d held your face.

You felt your cheeks heat up slightly, before shaking your head. You didn’t know for sure if this alpha was right for you, no need to get ahead of yourself.

But… what was it he’d called you? It meant beautiful. And he hadn’t scented when he said it. Maybe he was different.

Taking a deep breath, you shook your head once more. None of this would matter if you couldn’t find him outside of the trials.

So with new purpose, you strode into Glenvale, ready to interrogate whoever you needed to to find the killer.

Your steps were hurried, taking the steps up to the saloon in one small hop, and pushed the doors open obnoxiously, too preoccupied with your own mission to realize how loud it would be.

So when the swinging doors smacked against the wall, it startled everyone, including you.

You barely had time to register that there was only a few people in the saloon before Evan grumbled at you. “What’s got a bee in your bonnet today, brat?”

Stuck in place just inside the door, you looked to him as you mumbled out a soft “Sorry, didn’t mean to open them that hard.”

What drew your attention next was someone standing from the table, hidden by the bulk of Evan until just then.

“Ah, I was just about to ask where I could find you, and here you are.” There was a playfulness to his voice, and his grin mirrored the one he’d been giving you when he’d dropped your through the hatch just a few minutes ago.

He was already walking over towards you, and you were still stuck in place, but instead of it being mortification, it was something else.

You didn’t even smell him, but just seeing him had you staying still.

Maybe you were a bit in over your head, but the possibility that there was finally an alpha that could cross off all your check boxes? It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

Your hands clenched and unclenched as you waited for him to reach you.

“Would you join me on a walk?” He was right in front of you now, looking down as you fidgeting in front of him. Why were you nervous? He was just another alpha, you didn’t have anything to worry about. He couldn’t hurt you out of trials, and he could only do so much in trials, so why were you nervous around him?

You looked past him for a moment to see that Evan had turned away. Seems he wasn’t worried about the new killer talking to you, and he was always quick to put himself between you and the more… questionable killers.

So when you met gazes, you gave a tentative nod.

He walked past you, opening the door and standing outside of it, still holding it for you as he looked back watching you walk over to him.

The predatory look was gone, replaced with a lax smile. Like he had fully relaxed. An air of easy going swam around him as you almost meekly exited the building.

You’d never really thought how you would react to finding an alpha who might be good for you. This almost spooked approach was not what you’d expected from yourself.

He didn’t strike up any conversation as you left the realm of Glenvale and wandered farther than you’d ever gone before, passing some other realms you’d not seen outside of trials before.

He did however, pick up a lazy hum of a song. It didn’t seem to have a rhyme or reason to it, nothing you recognized at least.

“So, little omega. How long have you been hiding from me?” His voice startled you out of your own thoughts, and his words made your face flush.

“I… haven’t. We just haven’t been in a trial before now.” You were telling the truth at least, so he shrugged at that.

His hum changed to one of thought instead of song, drawn out a bit before he looked back at you from over his shoulder. “Well, now that we’ve met, don’t go hiding from me~.” The wink he gave you before turning back had you almost faltering, falling just a little bit behind before hurrying a bit to keep up again.

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. Was that his way of flirting with you?

Instead of saying anything, you just gave a small nod. He really did have the upper hand here, and you could only hope you hadn’t made a grave mistake following him out of the saloon.

He leads you past all the realms and into the forest on the other side. And just as it feels like he's leading you in circles, you pop out of the treeline in front of a cabin, just sitting in the clearing in front of you like it had been taken right from some magazine about Natural Living For The Rich and Wealthy.

Why was it always the killers getting fancy realms and cabins to stay in but the survivors had to stay around a dingy little campfire without so much as a tent to sleep in?

Your small spike of jealousy was forgotten when he opened the front door, ushering you inside with that same easy going air about him.

He wasn’t even glancing over his shoulder anymore, he just expected you to follow him deeper into his dwelling.

And you did, eyes wide and nose twitching at the sudden increase in his scent. It was old though, just what’s rubbed off on the cabin from him staying in it for upwards of 4 months now.

And you could feel the shift in the atmosphere when he heard your subtle sniff you couldn’t stop yourself from doing.

He casual spun around, leaning against the back of the couch, giving you a once over before that smirk was back.

“Do you like what you see, little omega?” The laugh in his voice sounded almost threatening, but it only sent a thrilling shiver down your spine when his eyes lidded while watching you from where he stood.

“I… It’s a very nice cabin. Shame only you killers get things like this. What I wouldn’t do for a tent at this point. Falling asleep leaned against a tree gets old at some point.” You tried to cover your embarrassment from being caught taking in his scent with your very real envy that the killers got special treatment.

His laugh was a bit unexpected, but it sounded genuine. “You know,” he pushed up from the couch, closing the distance easily, almost looming over you in mere moments, hands in his pockets as he leaned into the wall just beside you “you don’t have to stay at that campfire if you don’t want to…”

There was a suggestion in his tone, words unsaid, but clear on his face. He was leaning just a bit closer now, that signature grin back on his face as he watched you squirm under his intense gaze.

Part of you wanted to play dumb, to say something like ‘Oh, sure. I’ll just go ask Evan for a room in his mansion.’ but the look he was giving you had all your fire from before sizzling out.

Or maybe it was more apt to say it was burning differently now.

The temptation to finally give in to your more submissive instincts was great, but after a life of telling off shitty alphas, you weren’t sure how to go about flirting back with one now that you were here.

Your silence didn’t bother him, it seemed. His grin still in place as he leaned over you.

Every thought flitting through your head as you tried to find the right thing to say left you as he finally reached up to capture your chin, just like he had during the trial earlier.

“That is, if it’s what you want~.”

He was teasing you and also reassuring you. You could figure that much out by the softness with which he held your face.

The closeness was clouding your mind, but you knew that you were interested in his offer.

You faltered under his gaze, but finally found your voice. “I… you’re not scenting off… are you?”

It wasn’t really a question, but more of a realization. He nodded nonetheless, leaning back up just a bit, shrugging.

“Don’t need to.”

His confidence with those three little words sent an electric current through your whole system, leaving your fingers tingling after a small shiver has his eyes narrowing every so slightly, pulling up in a smile as he leans back in.

“But I can, if you ask nicely.”

You don’t even think before the barest whisper of a ‘please’ leaves you, finally giving in to your instincts.

He closed the distance, other hand coming to your hip to pull you closer to him. His face was so close, and the excitement at this new experience was absolutely overriding any thoughts of your past.

And all at once, you were surrounded by his scent. You couldn’t help the little gasp that escaped, but it only seemed to please him.

“That’s it, little omega.” He moved until his mouth was almost pressed against your ear, whispering out a little “Relax a little, I’ll take good care of you.”

He had your head spinning well before that, but when he nuzzled against your neck, taking in his own deep breath, you couldn’t help the little whine that left you.

His rich laugh reverberated through your whole body, sending tingles to all your extremities and lighting a fire low in your belly.

“Sensitive, aren’t we.” You could feel his smile against your skin, his teeth grazing against your scent gland, lighting up all the pleasure centers in your brain and causing a rush of slick to leave your panties an absolute mess as you trembled beneath him.

His grip on your hip tightened, a low rumble leaving him as he appreciated your own scent. “That’s good, it’s gonna be fun with you so responsive.”

You reached out, hands gripping at his open coat. You were dizzy from the rush of all these new feelings. Sure, you’d done plenty during your heats, but none of that had any feeling behind it. This was so different, it was like you were an inexperienced virgin again, unsure of where to put your hands or what to do with your body.

Thankfully, he was taking charge, pressing you into the wall and sliding his leg between yours as he kept nibbling gently against your neck.

He drew out more little whines from you, the hand on your chin wandering down to ghost feather light touches down your side, his mouth gradually moving to nip at your chin and then hungrily at your lower lip.

His presence was heavy, devouring you without even trying.

When you responded to his insistent presses against your mouth positively, he groaned out his approval, teeth grazing your lip before sucking softly at it to soothe the slight sting.

Your own moan that followed spurred him on a bit more, hands moving to either side of your thighs before lifting you.

While you expected him to pin you against the wall right there, he surprised you by standing up fully with your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms hastily thrown around his shoulders to hold yourself up.

He hadn’t stopped leaving little kisses on your face either, keeping you distracted as he walked farther into his dark cabin, not even bothering with the lights.

It was only when you were being laid down underneath him on a very soft bed that you did anything besides hold onto him.

While everything in you was telling you he was in charge, that didn’t mean you couldn’t do anything to help him along.

With lust fueling your actions, you pressed your hips up against him, doing your best to grind against him with your legs wrapped around his waist.

Doing so earned you a low growl and him pressing a bit harder into you as he claimed your lips in a kiss that took your breath away.

Everything about him was larger than life, almost overwhelming you as he licked at your lower lip before teasing along your own before finally releasing your for a breather.

He was still impossibly close, but you managed to clear your head enough to start lifting your own shirt off, since his jacket was the only thing in the way besides his pants. He sat up, hands moving your legs from around him so he could shrug out of his bright yellow jacket and toss it to the side of his bed, hands finding your bare skin being revealed as you shimmied out of your top.

You would have blushed when hearing his appreciative hum, but you were a little too turned on, seeing him kneeling over you, looking like sinful perfection as his hands trailed down your stomach to graze the top of your shorts you wore.

He went slow, unbuttoning then with a gleam in his eye, that predatory feel coming back as his teeth glinted in the low lighting.

You complied with his slight tug, lifting your hips enough that he slid them down your hips before sitting back fully, pulling them down your thighs and to your knees, lifting your legs to be almost flush with his body and he pulled your shorts off, keeping you legs pinned against his front, pressing a soft kiss against your calf as he drank in the sight of you flushed and almost naked beneath him.

“미인”

Even through the fog of lust, you remembered him calling you that before. Something about how you were beautiful.

Your face got substantially warmer, but you managed to get out “You’re not so bad looking yourself.” but you couldn’t quite manage the cocky smile you wanted to have go along with it when he nipped at your calf where he had kissed just before.

He was enjoying being above you like this, getting to watch your reactions as his hand not holding your legs to his chest trailed down the front of your thighs, ghosting against the dip in your hip before tugging playfully at the edge of your slick soaked panties.

You could feel his own excitement pressed against the back of your left thigh, and could feel how he tensed slightly when you squirmed in his hold, letting out a moan when the pad of his thumb swiped against your mound.

“You’re already so wet for me, little omega.” His voice was husky, low and vibrating through your legs pressed against his chest.

Whimpering in response to the stronger press of his thumb circling slowly, he had you writhing beneath him with very little effort.

It was like he knew just where to press to give just enough pressure to build you up quickly. He had you wrapped around his finger in no time, your gasps turning into absolutely filthy moans as he moved your panties to the side, exposing you to him finally.

His fingers ghosted across your slick soaked folds, spreading them slightly and groaning at the sight.

And just like that, he wasn’t teasing anymore.

He let your legs down, hands easily undoing his belt and pushing his pants and boxers down his hips, eyes never leaving you.

You were just as eager, moving to rid yourself of your panties and undo the bra you wore, thankful they at least matched today.

He let you know he appreciated your efforts by pushing you back down, mouth closing around your left nipple, while his hand found its way to your hip, steadying himself as you found his way back between your thighs.

You instinctively wrapped your legs around him again, pulling a soft moan from him when your bodies pressed closer. His cock throbbed at the delicious friction your bucking provided, but he only allowed it for so long.

Sitting back just a bit, raising his head from your chest and making full eye contact with you before purring out “Careful little omega, you’re playing with fire~.”

And even though your brain was telling you this was a very bad idea, you went ahead and poked the lion anyways.

Biting your lip, you pressed yourself up, rubbing yourself against the underside of his cock for just a moment more before he let out a much lower growl than before.

You had less than a second to react before he flipped you over, pulling your hips back into him to press his aching hard on against your heat.

Before you had a chance to gather your bearings, he had you pinned under him, teeth closing around your scent gland once more, sucking softly while ever so slightly grazing your skin. A reminder of your position, of how this was going to go down.

A rumbling approval thrummed through you when you presented properly, no longer embarrassed by your own instincts.

He greedily pressed against you, rutting slightly, simply enjoying your soft skin for a moment before reaching a hand down and slowly pressing a finger into you, earning him a long drawn out mewl as he felt you grip at him. He quickly added a second, working you up easily and mercilessly.

And through the whole thing, his mouth never left your neck. He was working you into a frenzied mess underneath him with just his hands and mouth, your legs shaking from the sudden intensity of the buzzing feeling between your legs, leaving you dizzy as he licked and sucked around your scent gland, taking his sweet time getting you ready for him.

You were already so close just from his fingers working you open for him, so at the sudden press of his cock, you almost came right there, gripping at the first inch of his cock as he slowly sunk more into you.

He finally let up on your neck, but stayed right there, nuzzling at your ear, purring slightly.

It wasn’t long before he finally stilled, seated fully inside of you, groaning at the warmth hugging him into you.

He sat still, just enjoying the feeling of you fluttering around him. He felt your impatient little press back into him, grin splitting his face as a low laugh reverberated through your whole body with him this close, practically draped over your own form beneath him.

“You want more?” There was mirth in his voice again, but also an edge of warning.

Despite the voice in your head telling you it was a bad idea, you nodded a bit desperately.

A low hum set your whole body thrumming with need, you could feel his smile press into your skin as you barely made out his whisper.

“Remember, you asked for it…”

You didn’t even have a second to second guess yourself, his hands moved, one arm holding him up while the other went to hold your hips in a vice like grip as he withdrew half his length and then plunged back in, knocking the breath right out of you.

He gave you no recovery time, setting an almost brutal pace, hips canting at an angle that had you seeing stars and trying to get any air in as he practically used you beneath him.

While he was enjoying still being over top you, and so close, but he wanted to hear you. He wanted you crying out for him.

Leaning back, he moved both hands to your hips, eager to hear your first moan now that you could get a breath in.

His hips snapped forward, the power behind his thrusts ramping up quite a bit, and he was rewarded with a loud keen as he kept that same fast and deep pace from before.

He felt you clamp around him, letting out his own groan at the sensation. You could feel his fingers digging in just a bit harder, knowing you’d have light bruising from the treatment, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care in the moment.

The bed sheet beneath you swam in front of your eyes, the pleasure bringing you to near tears as he adjusted yet again, pushing your face into the bed with one of his large hands splayed between your shoulder blades. And it was almost like he could hit even deeper from this position. He was filling you up with every thrust, leaving you a shaky mewling mess underneath him.

You were barely aware of anything besides your own mounting pleasure, but you just barely caught a growled command from him. “Ji-woon… say it”

His tone, deep and absolutely in control had you shivering under him, brain going to putty as you whimpered out what he asked.

A shaky attempt at his name left your lips, and it was close enough that it spurred him on, nails biting into your hip as he got close.

His pace quickened just a bit, and it had you keening out his name for him, music to his ears.

He felt you hit your peak, your orgasm crashing down on you as any noise you were making melted into a high pitched moan that was broken up with each thrust from him chasing his own end along side you.

And while the temptation to knot you was there, he held back, wanting to save that for the first time he’d lay his claiming bite on you in your heat.

You were almost through your own orgasm, body rigid and muscles tight, your ears ringing when you heard a choked out “이거야!” that was followed by a growl and his hips stilling finally, grip on you keeping you in place despite your own pleasure finally leaving you a twitching, boneless mess beneath him.

It wasn’t long before he draped himself over you again, pressing your body into the mattress as he surrounded you with his body and scent. One of a very pleased alpha.

“You did so well, little omega…” his praise left a warmth just beneath your skin, lighting you up unlike anything ever had before.

A surprisingly soft kiss was pressed just behind your ear, followed with a content purr as his hands gently rubbed at where he’d been gripping so hard earlier.

“So perfect, all for me.” His tone was still praising, but it had taken a possessive turn.

And his purr only picked up when you gave a little ‘mhhm’ at his words.

Being only for him didn’t sound so bad.

After all, you’d waited your whole life for the right alpha. Him wanting you just as much as you wanted him brought you a sense of peace.

You’d finally found him, your alpha. And you weren’t going to be letting him go anytime soon.

Translations 미인: (Miin) Beautiful woman

이거야!: (Igeoya) This is it!

[sofreddie]

Stashed Away

Summary: With their biological clocks ticking, the brothers set out to find their True Mates, before it's too late.

Characters: Alpha!Dean x OC!Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam x Unnamed!Omega

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Mating, Marking, True Mates, Institutionalized Reader, Heavily Medicated Reader, Implied/Mentioned Sterilization

Word Count: 2,876

A/N: For @spnabobingo 2021 - Free Space. This is my first square on my first ever bingo card. Let me know what you think!

Sam and Dean - Winchesters, Alpha hunters - for years they dedicated themselves to the life. But now that they're getting older, and still without mates, they're starting to go feral. Ruts happen more often, are stronger, and last longer. If they don't find mates soon, they will go feral, hurt a bunch of people, and die. So they do a spell, with Cas's suggestion, to find their true mates. They've always acted like they didn't want it, weren't interested, but there's no pretending anymore.

Following the tracking that the spell gave them - they track down Sam's True Mate first. Dean's more worried about getting Sam right than himself at the moment. The tracking leads them to a small town - a case is here, they quickly learn, vamps - by the time they figure out what's going on, they head to the nest, only to find a woman there, taking the head off a vamp, two other bodies at her feet. She’s a hunter - and a badass one at that, taken three vamps down on her own.

Dean's a little agitated, he needed some blood to help balance out the feral rut that's been burning him alive from the inside. Sam however, is speechless. His blood roars in his veins, pounding in his temples as his eyes lock onto her form. He knows - he can feel it with every fiber of his being - she’s his…his True Mate.

"Mega," he wines, taking a step forward only to fall to his knees in weakness, "Need you," he groans, before falling to his side and promptly passing out - the fever too high and rampant.

After quick introductions and explanations, Dean convinces her to come back to their motel. It just happens that she's in the same one, a few doors down. Dean drags Sam into the room, dropping him on one of the beds with a growl. He's getting too old to be dragging his giant of a brother like a sack of potatoes.

“I’ll get another room,” Dean offered, trying to move around her so as not to set Sam off, “I’ll check in with you in the morning,” he offered with a tight smile, nodding at her before leaving and closing the door behind him.

The next morning, seeing Sam’s much improved condition, Dean smiled before entering the motel room and seeing the Omega sat on the bed, a fresh claiming mark at her neck.

“Well, welcome to the team,” Dean joked, still keeping his distance from her as he knew Sam would still be testy over anyone coming near his Omega, “So listen,” he added a bit abruptly, “I figured you and her could snag a car, make your way back to the Bunker,” he explained to his brother, “I know you two need some time. Fresh bond and all. And I still gotta…you know,” he added sheepishly. Now that Sam’s rut had cleared, he could see how bad Dean was in it.

It was time for him to find his Omega.

Dean sighed as he put the Impala in park, looking through the windshield up at the large facility in front of him. When he and Sam did the spell to locate their mates, they looked up the locations to plan out their routes. That’s when they discovered that Dean’s True Mate’s location - was a psychiatric hospital. He couldn’t imagine why, but he hoped that maybe it was something he could help with.

He tried his best to compose himself, feeling weak and barely holding back from losing himself to his biology. Using his FBI credentials, he was led to a common room, the nurse pointing across the room to a woman sat along, staring out the window. Dean nodded to her and the nurse returned to her duties.

Dean gulped down the hard lump in his throat that threatened to burst into a growl. From the other side of the room he could smell her scent, climbing in and flooding his brain. He tried to shake it off, sweat forming on his brow from the fever, and he urged his body to move towards her calmly.

His scent hit her as she gazed aimlessly out the window. A warmth flowed through her and she closed her eyes, humming in content. She opened them once more, her gaze still outside, as she started gently rocking.

“‘Mega…” Dean breathed quietly, his eyes fluttering closed in small intervals as he approached and her scent got stronger. It was driving him crazy, but he had to be wary of his surroundings, wary of her. He had to stay calm. With long controlled breaths he finally reached his goal, pulling a seat opposite the Omega and huffing out a shaky breath.

She turned her head to look at him, her eyes gently rolling over his face and body before meeting his eyes once more. Her face was blank, but she looked pale and tired and afraid.

“W-who are you?” she asked, eyeing him warily.

Now he was here he didn’t know what to do. His brain was too full of other ideas. His cheeks had grown slightly pink from the quickly growing fever. “M-my name’s Dean Winchester,” he said quietly, “I…you…” he had to stop and clench his eyes for a moment, swallowing another hard lump in his throat, “You’re my True Mate.”

She looked him over once more, taking a deeper breath, before her eyes turned sad, “You’re dying too?” she asked, emotionless in features and tone.

Dean tilted his head at the question, frowning slightly, “Do you mean turning feral?” he had to gulp again, shifting in his seat as his body ached.

“I guess so,” she shrugged, “Too many meds to really know the difference.” She suddenly lurched forward, her elbows on the table as she looked at him intently and wide-eyed, “They say I’m crazy, you know? That what I saw wasn’t what I saw, but I saw what I saw!” she nodded manically along to her words, “You don’t need a crazy Omega.” she shook her head emphatically, looking down at her lap.

Dean jolted back in surprise at her small outburst, but his rational mind kicked in. He’d seen these places before and the meds they give patients, “I’ve seen a lot of things,” he offered, “So why don’t you tell me what you saw?”

“I didn’t do it,” she whisper-hissed, leaning forward on the table and glancing around the room before looking at him again, “He did, he came in and killed her, not me!”

Dean frowned again, his head jumping to ‘potential case mode’, “So, there was a guy?” he pressed her for more information, “What did he look like?”

“He was just a guy,” she shook her head, “B-but his eyes were weird,” she exclaimed wide eyed as if it was happening before her once more, “He killed her and he said I had to come with him because my Alpha was a very bad man. A-and then his eyes…” she trailed off, shaking her head and fighting back tears, “I got away, went to the police…b-but no one believes me.” she whispered sadly.

Dean’s body almost trembled with quickly growing anger. Someone or something knew what he and Sam had been doing. They hurt his Omega.

My Omega.

Mine.

“You’re not crazy,” he growled, quickly rising from his seat and looking down at her, “Omega, we’re leaving.”

She looked up at him in confusion, shaking her head, “I can’t leave,” she stated simply, “I’m scheduled for sterilization to stop my heat hurting me,” she explained as if it were a simple, everyday activity, “Doctor’s orders,” she nodded, turning back to look out the window.

The next thing Dean knew, he had his Omega in his arms and was standing beside the Impala. He was panting for breath and felt exhausted. He had some vague memory of a lot of snarling, roaring and punching Doctors directly in the face.

And now they were here.

“I’m gonna take you somewhere where you’ll be safe,” he breathed, looking down at…uh… “W-what’s your name, Omega?”

“Y/N,” she answered reflexively, still in an emotionless haze through it all, but relinquishing to her Alpha. “You shouldn’t have taken me,” she added, “The man with the eyes, I’ve seen him outside the window sometimes. And my heat is killing me. I’m a disposable Omega.”

“No,” Dean said suddenly and harshly, his arms held her tighter - his splayed out palms squeezing her. He bit back another growl, the scent of her heat crashing into him like a brick wall now his adrenaline fueled outburst was simmering down, “Never say that. You’re my Omega,” he pressed his forehead onto hers, gasping for breath as his body threatened to buckle as he grew weak, “Please…l-let me take care of you.”

She looked at the man, the stranger, the Alpha who had suddenly come in and tore her from her prison, like a knight rescuing a maid from a tower. She wanted to laugh at that, but she’d long ago lost her ability to emote.

They had kept her constantly medicated, to control her heat, her scent, her mind, her actions, anything they possibly could. But for some reason, something about him broke through her constant haze and made her want to just let him take charge.

“Okay, Alpha,” she agreed, just looking at him as she waited for whatever came next.

“‘Mega…” he breathed, voice breaking slightly from restraint. He held her so close, but not close enough at the same time. He could feel her warmth as he held her, her breath fanning across his lips. Some of that restraint slipped. He pressed his lips firmly into hers, the hairs on his neck standing on end as he hummed hungrily.

She pulled from the kiss, her hand gently cupping his cheek and turning his head to see several personnel searching the lot and searching for him, before one of them pointed at him and shouted for his companion.

“Right,” Dean stared wide-eyed before shaking himself back to reality. After ushering Y/N into the car, he quickly climbed in, the loud tire screeching of the Impala tires shortly following as Dean tore the car out of the lot and sped down the road.

When he said ‘somewhere safe’ before, he had meant the Bunker. The way his body was reacting right now however - aching, yearning, pleading to just touch her - he was ninety-nine percent sure he couldn’t last.

There was that motel just a few miles out though…

Y/N said nothing during the drive, her eyes out the window as before at the facility. She seemed still and calm, but also fragile and numb. But inwardly she felt trapped in her own head and unable to break free. She had dreamed about her Alpha, her True Mate, many times as had most people. And now that he was here, she was unable to even really experience it.

The next thing she realized, she was waking up in an unfamiliar room. She was somewhat dazed but her mind and body felt clear for the first time in a long time. She opened her eyes, sitting up slightly to two men at the foot of the bed she was lying in. One was the Alpha from before, the other a new stranger.

“I’ve healed and cleansed her,” Castiel explained, “But Dean-”

Dean had stumbled back, leaning against the wall as he eyes remained on fixed on Y/N. Castiel’s words were like white noise to him, he knew she was healed. If he thought her scent was powerful before, now with all the suppressants - and fuck knows what else - out of her system, it was like it had been turned up to eleven.

His head dropped back with a thud against the wall, his eyes clenching with a restrained growl. “‘Mega…” he breathed, his chest heaving and sweat forming on his brow.

She whimpered as her eyes set on him. She hadn’t felt a full heat in a long time and this one was especially bad. She knew it was him. She could remember their words, his touch, his lips.

“Alpha,” she called meekly, tentatively reaching up a hand in invite from her position on the bed.

“-Sh-she’s still in full heat,” Cas finished his sentence, taking a wary step back as he eyed the duo cautiously.

“Out,” Dean ordered, not even turning to address the Angel.

And Cas vanished.

Before Y/N could blink, Dean was there. His hands bunched in the back of her hair as he hungrily devoured her lips.

She moaned as they connected, his heat and weight soothing her ache and need. Her heart swelled, but a part of him also felt familiar, as if she’d known him all along. She pulled from the kiss, gazing into his eyes, frantic with need but also wanting to savor every moment. When she noticed how far gone he really was, she decided to let him take what he needed.

“My Alpha,” she whispered, kissing him once more.

There was a small rumble in Dean’s throat as his bloodshot eyes gazed directly back into her. He breathed, “Mine,” before his eyes fluttered closed and his mouth attached to her neck. He kissed and sucked a trail down to her collarbone, pressing his body into her as he fully mounted the bed and towered over her. He wanted to smother himself in her scent, every touch sending waves of need through him.

His hips rolled into her, his brain fogging as he quickly pulled at her shirt, ripping it clean off in one swoop before he hungrily mouthed at the swell of her breast.

She could feel the tremble in his muscles as he fought to keep the beast at bay, trying not to scare or hurt her. But she knew he needed more and she wanted to prove she could handle whatever her Alpha gave her.

“I won’t break,” she pleaded, pulling his lips from her body, “Take what you need Alpha, please,” she whispered desperately.

Dean’s eyes darkened, staring at her half-lidded before his hands moved fast. As he hungrily devoured her mouth once more, he quickly stripped them both of their clothes. His hands roamed her with need, quickly moving down to her center before two digits swiftly dove into her core.

He growled as he felt her slick, curling his fingers and pressing firmly into her g-spot, his eyes rolling back as she moaned in surprise. He quickly withdrew his fingers, moving to grab her hips and flip her onto her stomach. He hoisted her hips up to meet him, letting out a low moan as he rutted his painful hard erection through her folds.

She moaned wantonly, arching her back and presenting for him obediently. She purred, rutting back into him, desperate for her Alpha.

He moaned out, mouth hanging open longingly. “My Omega…” he growled lowly, positing the head of his cock between her folds and gripping her hips tightly, “Wanna knot you…” he growled again - hungrier - before slamming his hips forward with a loud grunt. She was perfect, tightening like a vice around him that he hissed blissfully, quickly pistoning his hips with choked huffs and growls.

She moaned loudly, panting hard as Dean set a brutal pace. His grip was tight, his cock filling her completely, slamming hard into her cervix on every thrust. She reached her arms above her, grasping onto the end of the bed for something to hold onto. Using the leverage, she pushed her hips harder back into him, lifting her head to groan out.

Dean leaned forward, his breathing quick and erratic as he pounded her. His lips grazed and sucked on her neck as he moaned, feeling the muscle at the head of his cock begin to swell. His grunts became strained as fought to keep his pace. “Cum on my knot, ‘Mega,” he demanded, releasing one of her hips to rub hard circles on her clit.

Feeling his knot swell she knew she was close to losing her mind. When his fingers found her clit, she stuttered and screamed as her orgasm washed over her, her walls clenching his throbbing length within her. Dean seemed to draw it out as her pleasure seemed to never end.

As her wall clenched him impossibly tighter, Dean roared through one final harsh thrust, holding himself as deep as possible as he finally came, his hot cum shooting deep and filling her. The hand still holding Y/N’s hip gripped bruisingly tight as Dean suddenly bit into her skin.

As her mind finally broke free of the haze of bliss, she realized he had positioned them on their sides spooning. Dean was nuzzling into the mark on her neck and humming, his hands grazing over her skin.

“Who was that man from before?” she suddenly asked, remembering feeling free of the medications and seeing a man there before he just wasn’t there.

“‘N Angel,” Dean mumbled, breathing in her hair and holding her tightly to him, “Cas. Healed you.”

Y/N smirked to herself, rubbing a hand over his forearm that was wrapped around her, “I see you’re still in caveman mode,” she teased.

He smirked with a small hum, not letting her go, ever.

Forevers:

@sis-tafics

@lyarr24

@calaofnoldor

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

Dean Winchester:

@akshi8278

@jerkbitchidjitassbutt

[ectoentity]

Warped Mirror

Decided to write something based vaguely on the “Spork AU” idea. Instead of Episode 1 Danny meeting Episode 50+ Danny, though, I was curious about a Danny who never became Phantom meeting one who had. This first part is just establishing Human!Danny’s world.

I’ll post it to AO3 when I have the rest of it finished.

---

Three kids stood before a giant machine in the shape of a door. It should have been humming along and glowing green, with a great hole to another world in the middle. Instead, it was cold and silent. 

“They spent years working on it,” Danny explained, “and then nothing. Mom and Dad have been moping in their room all day.”

Tucker looked around at the portal and the hodgepodge of computer parts attached to it. “It’s probably a loose wire somewhere. I’m sure they’ll figure it out.”

“In the meantime, this would make for an awesome picture,” Sam said with a smile. She held up her polaroid camera. 

“Oh no, you’re not getting me anywhere near that,” Tucker immediately walked away from the portal.

“Come on! When they get this thing working we’ll never be allowed near it. Besides, it’s not like it’s going to do anything right now.”

“Then why don’t you get over there and let one of us take the picture?” Tucker asked.

“Because neither of you know anything about lighting or framing a shot. Please?” When she saw that Tucker was not going to budge, she looked over at Danny with wide, pleading eyes. 

He looked anxiously at the portal. So far none of his parents’ inventions had really worked, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t dangerous. Still, Sam was right. It was pretty cool, and getting a picture with the thing could be a good way to keep a memory.

“Yeah, okay, let me put on a jumpsuit in case there’s a live wire or something.”

Ten minutes later he was suited up in the white-and-black safety jumpsuit his parents had made for him. It wasn’t really a hazardous materials outfit - there was no full hood or respirator, or even goggles. It was made of something that was supposed to repel ectoplasm and certain chemicals that his parents used and was insulated against minor shocks, so it would have to do. 

“Oh, no no. I’m not taking your picture while you’re wearing that,” Sam announced. Danny was about to argue, but she reached over and pulled the sticker of his dad’s face off of the suit. “Now you’re good.”

Danny laughed. “Good thinking, Sam. Wouldn’t want to be immortalized in your photos with that on me.” He walked up to the portal. It was a massive piece of machinery, nearly six feet in diameter and deep enough to fit a car. He paused at the entrance. It was hard to imagine it as anything other than a creepy machine in the basement. If it had worked, it would have opened into a whole other world. 

Tucker, meanwhile, was watching while anxiously tapping a foot. He had expected Danny to give in to Sam’s pleas. He was so predictable and utterly clueless. One of these days they would both realize that they were both desperately crushing on each other and they’d-

There was something plugged into the wall. Tucker wasn’t sure what it was, but he had a bad feeling about it. 

“Hold up!” he shouted. Tucker went over and unplugged the cord from the wall outlet, and checked around for more outlets just in case. When he didn’t find anything else, he called back, “Okay, I think it’s alright now.”

“Good thinking, Tuck,” Danny’s voice echoed in the portal. “Hey, Sam, is this good?”

Sam set up her shot. “Looks great! Just hold there a second.” She counted down before the flash went off. The camera whirred and produced a polaroid. “Lemme take a couple more,” she said before swiftly doing so from slightly different angles. “That should be good!”

Danny started to walk out of the portal. Something caught his foot. He tripped and fell backwards, flailing his arms wildly in hopes that he would catch something. His right hand hit the side of the portal. It stabilized him for a second, but then the wall clicked. Danny stared down at his hand, a chill lancing up his spine. He hadn’t hit the wall. His hand was resting on a button marked “ON.”

“Oh my god,” he blurted.

“Danny? Are you okay?” Sam called. He could hear them both scrambling toward the portal. 

“I’m good! I just tripped!” Danny got out of the portal as fast as he could. “My parents put the on/off buttons on the inside! If Tucker hadn’t unplugged it…” All three teens stared at the portal. Danny could have died, just for tripping over a stupid wire.

Finally Tucker gulped and broke the silence. “Want to see if your parents can get it to work now?”

Danny shook himself out of it. “Yeah! I’ll go ask if they forgot about that.”

They all but ran out of the lab.

---

The Fenton RV sped down the street, ghost alarms blaring. In the back, Danny got his weapons together as quickly as he could with all the jostling and swerving. They’d let Dad drive; time was of the essence.

“A level six!” Jack crowed from the driver’s seat. “Maybe even a seven! How long’s it been since we saw one like that?”

“About four months,” Danny grumbled. He still vividly remembered when the town had been drawn into the Ghost Zone and besieged with an army of skeleton constructs. He was not looking forward to a repeat of that hell. The Fenton Blaster in his hands whined as he attached the power source. 

“We’ll have to be careful, Jack,” Mom cautioned as she always did. “We don’t have the Ecto-Skeleton this time.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t call in the Guys in White?” Danny asked. They might not be the best ghost hunters, but they did have a lot more firepower.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Danny! I’m sure we can take care of this before they even notice something’s happening. Besides, your mom and I are still dealing with the paperwork from the last time they showed up.”

Danny shuddered. He was extremely glad that he didn’t have to deal with that aspect of ghost hunting. 

His dad pulled up to the mall with a loud honk of the horn and squealing tires. Danny and his mom ran out, blasters held at the ready. Dad backed them up with one of the Fenton Bazookas. 

The mall was already evacuated. Some people milled around outside, anxiously talking amongst themselves. In the year and a half since the ghosts had started attacking the town, people had gotten frustratingly complacent about them. The invasion a few months back had shown most people just how dangerous they could be, but a stubborn few always were more concerned with getting good pictures than their own safety. 

“Make way!” Mom shouted. “We’re here to take care of the ghost!” The crowd at least did part for them. A few people shouted at them. Some of it was words of support. A few tried to describe what they had seen - it was green, it was wearing all white, it was terrifying. Only a few made jokes or jeered at the Fentons as they passed. That was annoying, but it was a hell of a lot better than it had been a year ago. 

The deserted mall was an eerie sight. Everyone had left in a hurry, leaving lights on and store music still echoing through empty halls. The Fentons’ footsteps seemed far too loud. The weirdest part was that everything seemed intact. When the technology ghost raided the mall he usually left trails of rubble and discarded packaging everywhere. The box ghost would leave piles of everything that he dumped out of his beloved boxes. Various other ghosts had attacked the mall in the past, and they almost always left signs of their passing. Why was this one different?

“Come out, ghost!” Dad shouted, his voice easily carrying through the empty mall. “Let’s make this quick!”

“Curious.” The voice was quiet, but had the same unnatural echo of all ghosts. Danny held up his blaster, but he couldn’t tell where the voice had come from. Beside him, his mom turned on her miniature Fenton Finder. It beeped alarmingly quickly. 

“Two o’clock!” Mom shouted as she fired. Danny was only a moment slower, trying to fire a little ahead. The blasts didn’t connect with anything. 

“I mean no harm,” the ghost said. Its voice was way too close for comfort. Danny turned to his right and shot where he thought it was, but he still missed. 

“What do you want?” Danny asked. He didn’t really care. No matter what their obsessions were, ghosts only ever wanted to spread chaos and pain. Still, sometimes he could distract them by talking back. 

The ghost appeared in front of them. It was tall, with dark, green-tinged skin and a lighter beard. Its eyes glowed a soft yellow. A white robe and hood covered most of its body, rippling in a nonexistent breeze. 

A green beam from the Fenton Bazooka blasted towards the ghost. Its torso split apart to allow the beam to go through it. Danny grimaced. It was so gross when they did that. He followed his dad’s lead and started shooting the ghost. The ghost blocked all of his and Mom’s shots with a series of small green shields. 

“This is entirely unnecessary,” the ghost huffed. It had the audacity to look bored. 

“Then why not just go back to the Ghost Zone and leave us alone?” Danny shouted, annoyed. He ran off to the side, flanking the ghost. It finally started dodging the ectoblasts. If anything, though, the ghost just looked amused. 

“Oh, I shall. First, though…” The ghost flung its hand out towards Danny. He winced, anticipating the burn of ectoblasts. He took a step back and his foot sank. With a shout, he fell into the glowing green portal that had opened right behind him.

[slashbitch2]

Prove Me Wrong, Darling

who doesn't love a bit of enemies to lovers? :)

You and Agatha had never gotten along. From your perspective, it was due to a conflict of interest. Whereas if you asked her, she'd likely say it was a conflict of intelligence, or something else insulting along those lines. Though the issue you had with the fellow witch wasn't her attitude, rather her underestimation of your powers. It'd started with her massacre of the Coven, when she'd attempted to end your life alongside the others. But to her surprise, you'd been strong enough to defend yourself and escape. Since then, there'd been several instances where your paths had crossed, and you hadn't let her live down the failure yet.

This particular occasion was different, however, as Agatha had asked you for help.

It'd taken everything in you not to immediately mock her. But you knew that she'd leave without further explanation if she felt ridiculed, and you were just dying to know what had made her stoop to your level. So, you'd swallowed your pride and attentively listened to her proposal. It'd mostly featured the repeated phrases "immense power" and "huge source of energy," and even a confession that she was baffled by the cause, which only intrigued you further.

Although you weren't too interested in accumulating anymore power, the opportunity to be on level ground with Agatha was too good to pass on. You confessed this to her upon accepting the invitation, which resulted in an unimpressed eye roll. Regardless of her annoyance, you left that same day, arriving in the least expected location. A quaint town in New Jersey.

"Well," You landed behind Agatha in the middle of a road, surveying the picturesque, colourless neighbourhood. "isn't this lovely."

She pursed her lips, looking round similarly perplexed. "Lovely?" She echoed. "This is like every outdated suburban stereotype rolled into one. Like some kind of picture-perfect movie set."

Her condescending comment jogged a memory. "That's what I was thinking of!" You exclaimed, clapping your hands enthusiastically. "Did you ever watch that sitcom- from the 50s? The Dick Van Dyke Show?"

"From the title alone I'm glad I didn't."

"Seriously, it's practically the same setting." You moved to stand directly in front, forcing her to look at you.

"So, what you're saying is someone used this insane amount of power just to recreate their favourite TV show?" She quirked an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your theory.

"Well, wouldn't you?"

"No."

"Anyway." You glanced down at the rather eye-catching ensemble Agatha was currently wearing, then at your comparably casual yet modern clothes. "This isn't going to work." With a wave of your hand, the jeans and jumper combo was replaced by a more period accurate pencil skirt and blouse. Satisfied, you looked up at her expectantly.

Taking it as a challenge, she copied the gesture, managing to both create a new dress and fix up her hair. She smirked, enjoying the chance to show off her superior abilities.

"It's not a competition." You huffed.

She placed a hand on your arm fake comfortingly. "Of course not, dear."

The contact caused you to shiver slightly. It felt as though her touch ignited sparks, though the sensation wasn't exactly unpleasant. Quite the opposite, in fact. But indulging in it didn't feel right either, so you were grateful when Agatha removed her hand.

Her face dropped, eyebrows furrowing. Slowly, she swivelled round to point at a house. "There. Can you feel it?"

Following her outstretched finger, you tuned into the energy, focusing specifically on the house. "Mhm." Unsurprisingly, Agatha was right. An unfamiliar energy was being emitted from whoever was inside. You tried to pinpoint what kind of magic the user possessed, but found no trace of any familiar type. "Shall we go meet the neighbours, then?"

"You read my mind." She muttered, narrowing her eyes and offering an arm without so much as sparing a glance in your direction.

You hesitated, taken aback by the kind gesture. It hadn't dawned on you until then that an incredibly powerful being was residing little over 10 metres away, and that you were both about to willingly walk into their house. Looping your arm with hers created a naïve sense of safety.

Neither spoke as you approached the house with faux confidence, only pausing for Agatha to summon a potted plant. A house warming gift, you guessed. The simple gesture of goodwill brought a smile to your face.

"I didn't expect you to be such a considerate neighbour." You whispered.

"Gotta make a good first impression." She reached out to knock against the door.

---

You sighed. Barely an hour spent in this black and white world and you were already bored. Everything was so tiresomely perfect, so normal that you questioned how you'd ever suffered through those terrible old sitcoms in the first place. Sitting in Wanda's living room, the only entertainment was your partner in crime Agatha, or Agnes, as you ought to say.

She was currently flipping through a magazine, tracing the page with her index finger and reading aloud to help Wanda prepare for her anniversary.

"Any notable date you can remember? Special occasion?" She asked the redhead. "You know, to remind him of good times." She winked suggestively, briefly glancing at you with an expression that only you could decipher. She was enjoying flustering Wanda a little too much.

"Oh...I don't know." She trailed off, untrustworthy eyes darting around the room. "Do you two have any memorable date? Maybe I could steal some ideas."

Had the sitcom spell effected you, this would've been the ironic moment in which you spat out whatever drink was currently in your mouth. Fortunately though, you'd declined the offer of tea earlier, and opened your mouth to correct her.

Agatha beat you to it by nudging you with her elbow. "Oh don't we just?" She laughed deeply until you joined in with a forced chuckle.

Deciding to join in with her game, you hummed thoughtfully. "What about that picnic we had? In Salem, remember?" Judging by the way her eyes flashed dangerously, she knew you were referring to that dreadful night with the Coven, serving as revenge for the sudden change in relationship status. "Agnes decided the best time to go on a date would be at night- and in the middle of forest of all places!"

Agnes threw back her head in exaggerated laughter. "Oh hush! I thought it'd be romantic. Besides, you're the one who got us completely lost, dear." She continued, further adding depth to the altered anecdote. "And I'd say it went pretty well regardless." She turned to whisper conspiratorially to Wanda. "So I'll spare you the dirty details."

The three of you fell into easy laughter, only interrupted by the shrill ring of the telephone. "If you'll excuse me." Wanda stood up to answer. "That's probably Vis."

You took the distraction as respite from forcing such an overly hospitable smile, finding that your cheeks were already aching. For the last few minutes, you'd been aware of a pair of eyes watching you closely, and finally turned to face the witch sitting next to you.

"What?"

Agatha said nothing, her invasive eyes never leaving yours as she took a sip of her drink. You could practically see the gears turning in her head as she thought something through, and dreaded to wonder what she was about to say.

Reaching some form of a conclusion, she leant forward to place her drink down on the table. "Kiss me." She murmured through clenched teeth, momentarily glancing at Wanda, who's back was turned.

"Excuse me?" Out of all the possible things she could've said, this request seemed the least plausible in your mind.

"When Wanda turns round she should see us-" Agatha gestured her hand back and forth as if vocalising what she was implying was too sinful to put into words. Her vagueness was met by your blank stare. "Y'know?"

"No?" You shook your head, unable to comprehend why she'd ask such a thing, untrusting your interpretation of her suggestion.

"Just-" Agatha raised her hands to grasp your face. Hesitated. Then threw them back down into her lap and sighed in frustration. The fact she was struggling to initiate contact was laughable, though eventually you took pity on her.

Leaning forward, you kept your eyes open to watch for Agatha's reaction. You found it amusing that upon realising what you were trying to do, her eyes shut impossibly fast. Satisfied that she was consenting, you raised one hand to cup her cheek and continued to chase after her lips. The kiss was chaste and affectionately mundane, exactly at it should be.

In response, she grabbed your knees and pulled you closer, nipping at your bottom lip. Clearly Agatha wasn't on the same wavelength as you. Her hands shifted further up to your thighs, bringing a startling heat to the kiss. You gasped, virtually melting at her touch. You wanted this. One hand slid to rest on her shoulder. But it wasn't the time or place. You gently pushed against her.

Agatha pulled away, breathless. She scanned your face with pupils blown wide and mouth slightly agape like she'd just reached some new revelation. You were certain your expression mirrored hers.

Wanda cleared her throat somewhere in the distance.

"Gosh, Wanda I'm sorry." Agnes' cheerful voice reappeared as she addressed the redhead without breaking your intense shared eye contact. "But I think we ought to be heading home now." She said unabashedly. Like you hadn't just been caught making out on the neighbour's couch.

"Of course." You could hear the understanding smile in her voice, the slight awkwardness from intruding. "It's been lovely meeting you both."

Summoning an ounce of brainpower, you turned to Wanda. "And you. Feel free to keep the magazine." Then tugged Agatha up and began dragging her toward the front door. For once in her life she went willingly, allowing herself to be pulled along, calling out a last minute farewell to Wanda.

Upon reaching the end of the garden, Agatha wordlessly took the lead. Staying true to her fabricated story, she set a determined course for the house to the right, waltzing up as if she owned the place. A quick flourish of your fingers and the lock was rendered useless. Now the house was yours.

As soon as the door shut behind you, she turned on her heel and pushed you against it. Her mouth quickly sought out yours with a desperation only appropriate in private. Had you known Agatha was this good of a kisser, you would've done this ages ago, but elected not to vocalise the praise knowing she'd never let you live it down. You felt her smirk against your lips, and briefly wondered if she'd somehow infiltrated your mind. You wouldn't put it past her.

As she began trailing kisses down your neck, any concern about the invasion of privacy became inconsequential. You sighed. She rewarded the sound with a nip at your throat. Due to the haze of lust clouding your better judgment, you didn't register the sound of footsteps until it was too late.

"Woah!" A man called from the top of the staircase, presumably the current previous resident of the house. Agatha froze, her lips still pressed up to your neck.

"If you two beautiful ladies hadn't already broken into my house, I would've happily invited you in." The man grinned obnoxiously, slowly continuing down the stairs.

Agatha disinterestedly waved her hand, incapacitating him. The sound of the stranger tumbling down the stairs caused her to let out a short, cruel cackle, before returning to bury her face in the crook of your neck.

"Not big on roommates?" You joked, sliding a hand up and down her back soothingly.

She nipped at your flesh, a little harder this time. "Trust me, he doesn't want to be here for what I'm about to do to you."

Already impatient, you decided to tease her in hopes it would speed things up. "You're all talk and no action, Harkness."

She all but growled as she returned to your lips. Without warning her hands squeezed your hips. "I don't think you're in the position to be insulting me, love."

"Then prove me wrong, darling."

[ladysyrinx]

Dragon, not Lamb, Part I

The Demon in the Attic

Chapter 5

The Demon in the Attic

I stare at the demon in front of me. Weird that the brother who is hidden away is the first one to show me their demon form.

Or maybe not. He has nothing to lose, after all. And he doesn’t necessarily know I’m human.

“I asked you a question,” he growls at me, tail swishing in a shockingly menacing manner, considering it’s a cow tail. I’m pretty sure that shouldn’t work, but it definitely does.

I take a slow, deep breath. I can panic later. Panicking now will only make the situation worse. I stuff the fear and anxiety away in the back of my brain, just like I do when a panic attack begins but I’m not somewhere safe enough to have it. The careful disconnect from my emotions allows my brain to resume coherent thought. That unfortunate practice is coming in handy now. When I’m pretty sure my composure wouldn’t break even if a raging T-rex were to break through a wall to come eat me, I speak.

“I’m Tahlia,” I lie, trying to hide how weird the name feels on my tongue. I’m claiming a name I haven’t even spoken before. It’s weird and I don’t like it.

“Tahlia. What kind of name is that?” He sneers at me.

Unfortunately for him, his attempts to demean me are completely ineffectual because I, too, have no attachment to said name. In fact, I’m even less of a fan of it than he is. “You know, I’ve wondered that since I got it,” I say honestly, but I inflect just enough to play it as a joke told straight. “It’s quite awful, isn’t it?” I hope Lilith is listening, little b**** that she is.

The corner of his mouth twitches slightly. “Well, at least you can recognize it.” He lifts his head haughtily, the kind of gesture I’d expect from a lord of hell. “Did Lucifer send you? He’s hoping to get a therapist to change my mind, is he? It’s not going to work.” Belphegor sniffs at me.

Does he think that I’m a demon? Maybe he can’t tell the difference behind Lucifer’s spell? An idea begins curling in the back of my mind. Therapy. That could be the solution. The vague idea must have had pre-checking because it’s pouring out of my big, stupid mouth before my brain can look it over to see if it’s a good idea. And I can’t even blame Lilith for it.

“Yes. I’m here to assess you and see which therapist would be the best match for you,” I say. Well, too late to take it back now.

Belphegor looks startled. “So, what, you’re the head therapist? A Lord of Hell isn’t good enough to be part of your clientele?”

Um, no, I’m not a therapist at all, I think. So you can’t have therapy from me. My brain scrambles, spine straightening to put on the air of a confident professional.

“It’s not about who’s in charge, it’s about who’s the best fit to help you,” I say calmly. “That’s my job.”

Well, it kind of is my job, anyway. Lilith did ask me to help with her brothers. Yeah, that memory cleared up with all the rest. Or hopefully the rest. I don't really have a good way of knowing if she's hidden anything else from me. Thanks Lilith.

Belphegor leans back against the wall behind him, eyeing me up and down. I refuse to fidget under his scrutiny, instead resting my weight on a single foot to give off ‘relaxed to the verge of boredom’ body language.

Belphegor smirks at me. “You’re bold, even to me. Did you act this same way around Lucifer? Or are you underestimating me because I’m the seventh Lord of Hell? You shouldn’t do that, you know. I could tear you apart just as easily as they could.”

I shrug slightly. “I’m this way to everyone. I even talked to Diavolo once, and I acted this way to him, too.”

He throws back his head and laughs, a broken and insincere sound, though dregs of mirth still swim around in the depths of the bitterness drowning the sound. “You spoke this way to Lord Diavolo? I wish I could have seen that.” His eyes reassess me, glittering far too brightly in the dark. It’s unnerving, and I have to swallow a chill before it shows.

“I did. I’ve never been one to lie or grovel or brownnose. It's not in my nature.”

Belphegor smirks again. “No, I suspect you haven’t.” In a movement almost too quick for me to see, he’s at the door, looking through at me. My blood chills in my veins and only with great effort do I keep the shiver from running down my spine as it wants to. If it weren’t for that spell trapping him in, he could tear out my entrails before I realized what was happening.

I really, really didn’t like that thought. I was suddenly fervently grateful to Lucifer for locking him up.

He looks at me for a moment more, then leans back away from the door, turning his back to me. “Tell you what. I’ll do the therapy Lucifer wants, but only if you’re the one doing it. No one else.” He says it nonchalantly, as if he doesn’t really care, but there’s something that tips me off. I can’t put my finger on it, on how I know, but he feels lonely, and like he actually enjoys taking to me.

I feel a lump form in my throat. Well, crap. I can’t just pretend to be a therapist. Can I? Would that be better than no therapy, or worse because I’m not qualified? Should I try to convince him to take therapy from someone else, or would that just turn him back off the idea entirely?

Argh, thoughts for a different time. Right now, I need to pay attention to what I’m doing. “I’ll do that. I’m not sure if he’ll agree or, even if he does, when I’ll be able to come see you regularly, though. So if it takes a few weeks or months, don’t be surprised.”

Belphegor scoffs like it doesn’t matter to him one way or another. But that almost unnerving feeling of knowing returns, and I see the slight slump of his shoulders, the way his tail falls closer to the ground, though it’s so faint I doubt even he noticed he did it. Part of me wonders how I noticed it myself.

Oh for goodness’ sake he’s got to be lonely up here. Ugh, this is such a mess.

“Well, Belphegor, I’m afraid I have to get going. I will see you another time.” With that I turn to the staircase and climb down. To my immense relief there’s no Lucifer waiting for me at the bottom. With any luck, he’s still at RAD talking to Diavolo.

I scramble out the door, closing it quietly behind me. Checking around to make sure no one saw me, I walk away, quickly making a couple turns until it no longer looks like I’m walking away from that doorway. The whole way my mind races faster than a hummingbird’s wings. I’m screwed. I’m so screwed. And maybe dead. My heart pounds frantically in my chest, as if it is trying desperately to row up a river that inexorably pulls it back towards a cliff. What on earth am I supposed to do now?

Then again, I’m not exactly on earth anymore, am I?

That's the thought sends me over the edge into incoherent panic realm.

I am so very, completely, incredibly, thoroughly screwed.

~End chapter 5~

~End of Part I: The Demon in the Attic~

Previous ~ Part II Chapter 1

*Just to be clear, I do not approve of or recommend pretending to be a therapist or using a good friend as a therapist replacement. Therapists are trained to help with mental health issues, and are the safest bet for recovering from mental health struggles and trauma (Though good and supportive friends are also a must and important to recovery, they just aren't a replacement for therapy:). This is a work of fiction, and this is being used to create drama and explore a moral dilemma. Don't try this at home XD There's a reason people get trained to administer therapy.*

Thank you so much for reading! And for finishing Part I of Dragon, not Lamb.

Please stay tuned for:

Part II: Lucifer's Match

Coming soon to a Tumblr near you ;)

You can visit the obey me page on my blog to see the fanfictions I've posted so far on here. Also for connections to my Ao3 stories (I have more posted there).

Part II will be coming out most likely next weekend? At least the first chapter. Mental health providing I might post more and sooner, we'll see. I have at least the first chapter of Part II written, and the majority of the second chapter. Please stay tuned! Subscribe for more chapters and fanfics. Like if you enjoyed reading this. Comment to bring me happiness because you're a nice person<3 ;)

Also sorry about last week, I was out of town so I didn't get much of a chance to post. Kinda busy with other things haha. Still figuring out posting on Tumblr, I'll try to schedule my posts in advance to avoid this happening again. Thank you for your patience<3

Until next time, have a great week!