#he's just a peripheral figure in your life until one day he's not — and then you can't stop thinking about him

[willowser]

you make a smart-ass quip to deku in the middle of a conversation and it makes bakugou bark out his loud, ugly little laugh, with his nose scrunched and all his teeth showing, and you fall in love with him right then and there 🥺

[slickchickchocolatier]

Baby Fever

Warnings: breeding kink, rough smut implied, smut-ish stuff, some minor choking, smut talk (breeding smut talk...if yk...yk). MDNI this is only for the grownups (18+).

Authors note: this drabble is canon to the HHP storyline > : ) I had this in mind for a few days and wanted to quickly draft it for yall to hold you guys off until the treat comes out this weekend 😉

What a gorgeous morning it was; the sun beaming brightly and the fresh, crisp Spring air filled with the chirping of birds, and the newborn flowers blooming in greeting. You woke up alone, figuring Heeseung was downstairs in the kitchen, considering the minor commotion you overheard from the bedroom. You got up and figured that on the first day of Spring, what better way to greet your lover than to wear the dress that he absolutely loved seeing you in. It was a purple mini floral, rather form fitting despite the subtle empire waist line, which gently showed a hint of your curves. The front had a stringed, lace front that tied the scoop neck line together, cradling your breasts and proposing the faint curves of your cleavage. It was both sexy, and pretty, especially when paired with sheer, black, thigh-high stockings, edged with a beautifully elegant damask pattern that subtly hid beneath the hem of your short dress. Your hair was left freely down, since that was the way he always preferred you wore it. He loved your hair.

Every single night, he would run his fingers through your strands, rubbing them together to savor the silkiness of the texture. He never cared to use a brush because it took away the pleasure of feeling that softness of your locks. The way he would drape the length of your strands over his knuckles and rub it against his cheek, inhaling the floral scent of your shampoo, which always ended with him leaning in to suck on the back of your neck. If anyone should think that his behavior with your hair is absurd, you wonder what they would think when he looks into your eyes, or take his time to feel your skin...guess that will be saved for another story.

After conducting your morning hygiene, you walk down the stairs. Gripping on the ball tip of the large banister, you playfully swung your way around to face the open view of the kitchen and dining area, immediately making eye contact with Heeseung.

He smiles as he stands on the opposite end of the large kitchen island, with his palms plastered on the surface top and leaned over just slightly over a mug, more than likely containing his favorite coffee drink. He was dressed all in black, a black fitted tee, lightly tucked in black fashionable fitted cargo pants, with a black hat. The lines located at the corner of his lips was all that the bill of his headpiece would allow you to see as he smirks upon seeing you enter the kitchen.

"Oh, y/n! It's so good to see you."

Shocked by the voice from the side, you turn to view over shoulder and saw Steve, one of the frat tenants that lived with Heeseung and the other roommates.

"Hi Steve. When did you come back from vacation?" you ask with a delicate smile as you greet him, when a young woman appears from behind him with a small bundle locked in her arms. "I got back last night, it was so late and I didn't want to wake anyone so I stayed at a hotel. But, let me introduce my sister, she just had a baby two months ago and was in town so I decided to bring her over to meet everyone."

You smile gleefully as you greeted Steve's sister. "Oh nice to meet you." you delicately spoke as she does the same. "It's nice to meet you, your y/n, right? Steve was just introducing me to Ethan and mentioned you, it's so good to meet you."

Your peripherals caught on to Heeseung remaining stagnant in his stance, eyeballing you, Steve, and his sister, Lauren. He takes a sip out of his cup, his eyes never breaking away from you.

"How far along in college are you?" Lauren asks, in which you respond sweetly as you both continue talking about college life. Heeseung remained as he always did when around other people, a bit standoffish and quiet, glaring over and keeping an eye on you. At least he was being a bit more pleasant since he knew Steve, being roommates under the same roof for years now. It was typical, everyone, including the frat tenants, all knew that Heeseung "Ethan" became a walking malice since he began dating you, and it was evident that he cared for no one or anything other than you...you wonder what they would think if they ever knew that there indeed, was an "Ethan" entity that was more than just an english version of his birth name.

"Would you like to hold the baby?" Lauren gains your attention back as she presents her bundle of joy. "Oh...um sure." Cradling the small child, you held him tightly as you cupped him against your bosom. "Wow, you're so good with him." she remarks surprisingly as she straightens her dress and heads to the bathroom to freshen up.

That was to be expected. With all the time spent babysitting for your neighbors while in high school, you were quite used to holding and handling a newborn baby. You sat down on the dining chair and laid the baby against your chest, gently patting and rubbing his back, all the while he drifted off with his head nestled against the crevice of your cleavage.

"Looks like you're ready to be a mom." Steve joked aloud, meanwhile Heeseung kept sipping on his coffee, occasionally eyeing you from the corner of his sharp gaze.

"Noooo." you chuckled out. "I used to babysit for my neighbors, they had a baby that I would look after often." You explained, keeping eye contact on the baby's soft head as you gently palmed the back of it, rubbing the tip of your nose against it.

After some time went by, Steve and Lauren departed to spend a day in the old town, leaving you and Heeseung alone in the frat house. With all the other tenants away to enjoy the ongoing Spring festivals, the house was completely empty, and would be that way for the entire day.

"Can we go out for a walk?" you ask as Steve and Lauren walked out the door. Heeseung gently sets down his cup and issues a subtle nod. "Okay, I'm going to get my phone." you smiled out as you walked up the stairs, with him slowly following close by. Guess he needed to get something from upstairs as well.

He opens the door for you, a traditional habit, and allows you to walk in first. Halfway in the room, you barely caught your breath as you felt a sudden shift in motion with a firm lock around your waist. Nearly levitating you from off the ground, Heeseung swooped, and flung you on his bed, following suit and hovering over your body as you turn to face him. You stutter out a gasp from shock as your hair lays in a massive spread, with a few delicate strands across your face. There, you were met face to face with the devil.

His eyes dark, and his smirk was devious, but you could tell by the minor shine in his iris, he didn't swap over to his other side. The bill of his hat kept the shadow to grace over his face as he stares down. With one hand gripping your shoulder, the other reaches up and starts to pull the string tie at the front of your dress. He pulls, dreadfully slow as you feel the flap of your scoop neckline coming undone; one by one, he pulls each string until the opening was completely loosened. Your nipples peek from beneath the expanded laced string as your dress holds its remaining form. The hem was rolled slightly up from the swing of his strength when he threw you on the bed, exposing those thigh high stockings in full. Chuckling deeply, he pulls the last string on your dress as he spoke out in a shallow tone. "Does my girl want to be a mommy?"

You shook your head subtly. You were just being helpful, there was no way you thought about having children, besides, it was far too early considering you were still in your first year of college, not to mention you were still on birth control.

"N-no..."

"Mm...I think you do." he responds in an antagonizing manner and gently shifts the pieces of hair away from your face. He props himself steady with his palm plastered on your collarbone, and raising his body to rests on his knee caps. There, he takes advantage of your already spread thighs, and reaches in under your dress to scoot your lace panties off to the side. Once you were completely exposed to the cool air, he reaches in and with flickering fingertips, he tickles the sensitive flesh in between your plush folds. You gasp and moan out soft giggles, as did he. With a dark chuckle and biting down his lip, he remains propped to display the full sight of his abdominal region, where you admired the view of his hand reaching down, gently unzipping his black trousers, and his strong veiny hands fishing out the massive and swollen muscle that caused you to gasp at the mere sight of it. You reached up, grabbing onto his forearm as he remained on your collarbone, feeling his thumb swiping over the contours of the bone. Anticipating for what he was going to do, you felt yourself riddling with a burning sense of desire and passion.

You watched as the girth of his shaft and the bulbous tip disappear under the material of your dress as he leans in, and feeds it through, piercing your fleshy barrier until it finally makes its way in. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and speaks against your skin, "no more taking birth control."

"Uh...uh huh...."

"I wanna hear you say it."

"I-I'll get....get off it..."

"Let me take care of you....let me fuck you."

"Mm...mmhmm..."

He raises his form and once more, he props himself up by the extension of his forearm and palm planted beside your head on the bedspread. With his strong hand, he raises it as the tips of his fingers drag along your skin. Gently, with his fingers gracefully wrapping around your throat, he gives a faint squeeze, just enough to make you gasp a separate moan. With a dark and devilishly handsome smile, he gleams under the shadow of his hat; there it was...that eerie and rather handsome smile of malice and passion formulates on that face of his.

"Ready?"

You nod somewhat hesitantly. Bracing for intense pleasure, you knew all too well what was about to come, especially when feeling the throbbing sense of his tip as it barely lies inside you. "Y-yes...yes daddy..." you whispered, grabbing hold of his wrist as you prepare for a momentum that is unlike anything this world could replicate.

"Yeah?...come here, let’s do this, mommy."

> : )

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Two

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 3.4k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Medical inaccuracies, hospitals, medical procedures, medications, blood and injury, nurse!reader, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, feelings of fear, anxiety. Panic attack. Implied past abuse. Implied stalking. Deep breath.

There is blood in Johnny's eyes.

He comes to with a start, Price’s voice barking out an order, pressure and flame and blood all washing over him, pain erupting across every receptor in his brain like he’s being shredded alive. 

“Bloody hell, hold him steady.” 

It’s still Price, roaring over the chop-chop-chop of the helicopter blades, bloodied hands trying to keep pressure on the hole in his stomach, his side. 

It burns. Everything burns, his body feels like it’s on fire, bones turning to ash inside his skin, chest being torn apart by some invisible force. He can’t get enough air. There is something shoved inside his ribs, something heavy that’s weighing his lungs down, keeping him underwater, cinderblocks tied to his feet.

He tries to move, but he can’t. 

Gaz is strapping him down to a stretcher, he thinks, and when he ratchets a strap across his legs, Johnny screams in agony. 

“’m sorry mate, I’m sorry.” 

Where is Simon? There are faces here, but none of them are the one he needs. His LT. “W-where is Si?” He slurs, and Price frowns, leaning back over his face, calling his name. 

“Johnny, Johnny. Hold still. You’re on a medevac. We’re lifting you to base.” 

“Si-“ 

“Simon isn’t here, remember? Johnny, oi. Keep your eyes open, Sergeant.” Remember? Does he remember? He tries. Tries to place his partner’s face amongst the rubble, the blast, the screaming. 

Where is Simon?

Your coffee maker sputters to life in the silence of your apartment, churning out the dark, thick, life-giving liquid, and you can’t beat back the glare that fixes your face upwards towards your neighbors, the ones who are running a marathon in their apartment at three in the afternoon.

Seriously. Is there a herd of elephants up there? 

You can’t be too disappointed in them, you know. It is normal working hours. Normal daytime hours. You don’t expect your neighbors to accommodate or understand your schedule. Still, it would be nice if they were just a bit more considerate. 

It’s not the end of the world, regardless. You're up now, already started your day, crawled out of bed and opened the blackout curtains to stand in the afternoon sunlight that streams through your studio apartment. You flick open your laptop as sip your morning coffee, logging into your banking app with quick efficiency, eyes roving over lists of numbers, figures adding and subtracting in your head. You’re so close to being able to move forward with the plan, the light at the end of the tunnel growing stronger and stronger, glowing bright with hope, something that once felt so impossible, so far away. You're going to make it. 

It’s a hike to the train.

You’re fortunate that you only have to take one, no longer having to change once, or twice, in the middle of your commute like you used to, but now you’re walking at least twelve blocks to get there, each way.

It makes you feel very exposed.

You keep your headphones in, hood of your jacket over your head, and move within throngs of people during the trek, keeping your eyes focused on the sidewalk ahead, posture tilted just enough that you can watch the ground but still see in your peripheral. You don’t relax until you make it onto the platform, and even then, your head is on a swivel as you wait for the train to arrive, and you can melt into the mix of others. Seen, but not noticed. 

Old habits die hard. 

You swipe your card to proceed through the turnstile, cool metal sliding against your hands when you push forward onto the platform, settling against a pylon as you wait, flicking through the news with half interest.

The hair on the back of your neck rises.

Someone is watching you. 

Your skin goes cold, ice beneath your jacket, and your lungs stutter with short breaths. Logically, you know you’re wrong. The faces that wait alongside you are not focused on anything but themselves, too busy staring at their own devices, tablets, readers, phones. A woman fidgets with a stroller, a man wearing headphones spits some corporate nonsense out loud, obnoxiously. You’ve already looked them over, too many times. He’s not here.

You lean against the tile, rocking your back into the grimy wall, fingers clutching against the edge of your phone. He’s not here. You’re safe. The dark of the tunnel mocks you, laughs with his voice, its circular opening growing teeth like his, ready to devour you, drag you back to hell, swallow you whole and keep you there.

He's not here. You’re safe. He doesn’t know where you are. Deep breath. 

You breathe the words deep, counting the time of your inhales and exhales until the brakes of the train are squeaking and squealing to a stop, doors opening with a hiss. Everyone moves in tandem, an amoeba inching towards the same goal, get off, get on, and you go with it, pressing inside and shuffling towards the back, angling your body outwards, molded into a corner so tight your shoulders touch the walls of the train.

Deep breath. 

“Hey, you’re early!” The nurse you’re relieving smiles brightly at you, blonde hair pulled high in a scrunchie, stickers all over her badge and ID.

“Yeah, wanted to get caught up on some admin stuff but I’ve got it, if you want to…” you motion with your head, the universal signal of ‘if you want to leave’ without saying it out loud, lest you jinx it, and the place goes to chaos in the next five minutes. She nods eagerly, launching into a run-down of your beds, who’s stable, who’s sedated, who’s still on a vent. “-and two sixty-eight is about to come down from the PACU.” Your stomach clenches with anxiety, and you check your watch.

“They took him when I left this morning…”

“Yeah, I guess there was a complication. Had to re-open his chest, put in a new tube. Poor guy, he’s battered all to shit. Did you see the scans of his femur? It’s literally in pieces.” She sighs. “His partner is in the surgical waiting room, told him the next shift nurse would come find him when he could come back to the room.” Your anxiety heightens, and an alarm bell goes off in the back of your mind as you think about Simon, pacing back and forth upstairs, and Johnny, alone in the PACU, probably coming out sedation, terrified. What is wrong with you? 

“I hear those guys are like black ops or something.” Nia, the nurse who’s worked the last three rotations with you, comments over your shoulder as she drops her bag in the pit. You raise an eyebrow skeptically. Black ops? You shiver. “They air-lifted him from a military base that’s doesn’t even exist on a map. Cass and I checked.”

“Really?” The dayshifter perks up, interested, and you hold your hands out in caution.

“Okay, okay. Let’s not speculate.” You tap your number into the tablet, reading through charts and noting updates. A little green circle with an arrow through it blinks next to Johnny’s, signifying that he’s about to be moved. “Besides, he’s been through hell. Clearly. Let’s have a little, ya know. Respect?” They all cluck, rolling their eyes and groaning, but they shut up, and Nia gives you a little grin. You might not be the charge nurse, but you were the perma-night shifter on this floor, and the one with the most seniority in this moment. 

“Alright, well. You got this?” Dayshift asks, and you wave her off.

“Goodnight.”

“You’re the best. Bye ladies!”

Simon is easy to find. He’s wearing the exact same clothes from yesterday, black cloth mask still covering half his face, hoodie pulled up over his head. He looks less exhausted, but no less anxious, dark circles still present under his eyes, body language tense. He looks… scared.

He spots you just as easily, shooting to his feet when he sees you coming, hands clenched together in anticipation, and you motion to the chair, placing yourself next to him, turning slightly to ensure you’re giving him your undivided attention.

He shifts in the seat, legs spreading out against the stiff frame, and his knee bumps yours, warmth radiating beneath denim bleeding into your scrubs. If he notices or cares about the contact, he doesn't say anything, only blinks at you in anticipation. His head tilts before you start speaking, and your skin heats when you realize he’s looking you over, eyes tracing you from head to toe before pinning you in place with a focused scrutiny.

“Has anyone come to speak with you?” You ask, silently hoping that the surgeon actually did the last part of his job, and didn’t neglect the family member in waiting room, the one who’s holding their breath as every second ticks by.

Simon nods. “They said there was a complication with his lungs?”

“They had to plate his ribs. It will give the bleed in his chest a better chance at healing, help keep him stable. They also replaced his chest tube.” His brow furrows, and you pause. Maybe visualization will help. “Do you want to see?” You tap on the tablet, bringing up Johnny’s last imaging, scrolling through the pictures to show Simon what it looks like, pointing out the before and after CT of his chest, explaining the white vs grey spaces on the image. Simon studies it, taking the tablet in his hand, fingers tracing over the screen reverently, carefully, like he's touching Johnny himself. An ocean’s worth of emotions reflects in his gaze, despair, sadness, grief- all sitting just on the edge, nearly ready to spill over. Your heart skips a beat.

“Can I see him?”

“He’s coming down from the post-surgery unit now. I’ll have to get him resettled in his room, but I promise as soon as I can, I’ll come get you.” He twitches in the chair, rubbing the back of his neck before he huffs out something that sounds like ‘okay’, and you give him one more small smile with your ‘see you soon’.

Johnny is conscious when he comes up from the PACU, barely. His vitals look good, temperature, blood pressure, heart rate all in target ranges, and he’s due for another round of pain medication.

"Hey, Johnny." You smile down at him, sliding the lock on his bed in place and reattaching his leads carefully, gentle enough so you don't jostle him too much. 

"Hi, pretty girl." He slurs, and you chuckle, instinctively rolling your eyes before patting his good hand. 

“Came out of sedation fine, but he’s been a bit emotional.” The PACU nurse warns you, eyes soft with sympathy when she glances at him in the bed. “He’s asking for his partner, I think. Simon?”

“Yeah. I’ll take care of it.” You scan the post op notes, hitting all the important things, logging his last vitals check so you can administer his meds. The incision in his chest has been reopened, and then closed, and his lower body is completely immobilized in the bed, his hip pinned, femur delicately pieced back together with a plethora of plates and screws, so many you think it’s probably more metal than bone now. “How are you feeling?" You ask, heart tugging a bit at the hopelessness in his eyes. “Ready to get some more sleep?” He groans a response, words jumbled together and cracking into a sob that has tears trickling down his cheeks.

“Si..”

“He’s not back yet.” You try to explain gently, grabbing an extra blanket to put over the scaffolding around his leg. “Once I get you settled, we’ll bring him up, okay?”

“H-hurts.” He cries, vibrant blue eyes finding yours, scared, and desperate. “It h-hurts.” He’s openly crying now, shoulders starting to shake, and the monitor chimes at you, registering an increase in heart rate and blood pressure.

“I know. I know it does.” You clean his port, tracking the uptick in numbers on the screen. “Hey, hey. Shhh, it’s okay.” You try to calm him as you flush the line, pushing the saline from the side of the bed. “You’re alright. We’re almost,” You administer the medication easily, counting in your head, replacing it with another saline before reattaching his fluids line, all of the motions so second nature that it allows you keep your focus on him. “there.”

You expect him to calm down. Most patients do, but his heart rate continues to tick upwards, and his respirations don’t decrease, lungs heaving against the fresh sutures in his chest. His hand, the good one, skates across your elbow and down your forearm to grab a hold of you, fingers gripped onto yours tightly, like he’s afraid you might let go.

“It’s alright, Johnny. You’re okay.” His eyes don’t leave your face, his own jaw slack, pain meds coursing through his system. He's frightened, big blue eyes wide and anxious, and you squeeze his hand, stroking your thumb across his knuckles. “Deep breath.” You see patients upset, in pain, all the time. It’s an everyday part of your job. Even the hand holding is a necessary, frequent part of your profession.

But with Johnny, something feels different.

“It’s okay. You’re okay, just try to relax. Take some long breaths- good. That’s good.” You soothe him, rubbing soft touches into his skin. His head is turned to where you’re standing next to the bed, chest still heaving, and he winces with each exhale. “It’s just the last of the sedation, it can make you a little out of sorts. The pain meds are going to kick in real soon.” You reach over, and press the call button, twice. You can feel the pressure, the burn of his attention, his unwillingness to look away from you, and you hum out the softest words you can find, encouraging him to take calm, deep breaths. 

When Nia appears, she frowns. “Everything alright?”

“Hey, yes. Could you do us a favor and go up to the surgical waiting room? Johnny’s partner Simon, is waiting to be told he can come down.” She looks from you to him, reading the situation just as you would if the roles were reversed.

“Got it.” She makes her exit, fast, and Johnny gulps, still staring up at you with bright, wet, blue eyes.

“See? She’s going to get him. Everything’s alright.” He nods, barely, starting to succumb to the medication, and you exhale, letting out some of the tension from the last few minutes.

Simon comes through the door in a whirlwind, and you immediately raise your free hand, palm out, to slow his hurried panic.

“He’s okay.” You point to where Johnny is still clutching onto you. “He was still in a fair amount of pain when he came down, and coming out of sedation can be disorientating. I think he panicked a little when he realized you weren’t here.” He nods silently, taking his place bedside, towering over both you and Johnny, leaning past you to brush his lips against Johnny's forehead in a sweet, smooth kiss. 

"I'm here, sweet boy." He murmurs, voice so low you barely catch it. You step back, pulling your grasp from Johnny's, but he tightens his fingers, grip stronger than you anticipated, and you stop mid step, glancing to his partner. “I got him.” Simon reaches for where the two of you are connected, sliding his own hand overtop yours, replacing the contact before holding Johnny's hand whole. He’s so careful, lowering himself into the chair, carefully holding onto Johnny until he’s seated, bringing his palm to his mask covered lips. “I’ve got you.”

“Si.”

“I’m here Johnny. Rest.”

“Ye weren’t there.” He croaks, and Simon’s eyes shutter with a long inhale.

“I know.”

“Ah needed-“ He loses the words, dazed in a swirl of semi-consciousness. “was scared.” Simon strokes some of the hair that’s in disarray away from his forehead, smoothing his thumb back and forth above his eyebrow.

“Shhh, everything’s alright now. I’m here.”

The chair in supply closet 2b knows you well. It’s an old thing, something pulled from a patient room once it was deemed too squeaky, and too uncomfortable, shoved in here to be discarded at some point in the future.

That was months ago.

Now, it sits in a dark little corner, plastic packages of disposable PPE and gowns littered on top of it in a heap, excess supply with no place to live. Everyone takes turns in it, shifting whatever it happens to be holding that day onto the ground and settling in for what some could call a break, brief moments that could last seconds or minutes, quick opportunities to get off your feet and most importantly, not have to speak or be spoken to, for an indeterminate amount of time.

This is usually where you hide when you need a second. When there’s a lull, and the pit is full of nurses, techs, students or whoever else may have downtime, talking and laughing together, building relationships, getting to know one another. Making friends. It's a small luxury at work, to have that time, those friendships. 

Luxuries someone who wants to be seen, but not noticed, not known, does not have.

You close your eyes, head tipped back against the chair.

It’s okay to be alone. You can do this. Deep breath. 

Your mind floats to two sixty-eight, to Simon and Johnny. What is it like, to be loved like that? To be so fiercely cared for? Johnny’s teary, blue eyes and Simon’s soft, loving regard for him makes your stomach flip. You didn’t even know love like that was real. The only taste of love you’ve ever had left ash in your mouth, poison in your veins, and deep, deep scars across your body and soul that you’ll never be free of.

Deep breath. 

Your work phone and the tablet both start to beep, a shrill noise that makes you wince, muscle memory of what it indicates making you leap from the chair.

The screen shows a red flashing symbol next to room two sixty-eight.

Johnny.

“He’s tachycardic.” You tell the tech who’s fumbling with the phone, firing off a rapid text message to the on-call for this floor. You hold Johnny’s forehead still with the heel of your hand, using a finger to flick open his eyelids one by one, flashing the pen light across his pupils. “Pupils are dilated, BP is elevated- no call him- call him right now. Do what I said, I don’t care what he told you.” You bark, glancing up at where Simon is frozen across the bed from you, grip so tight against the rail that you think it might break.

“Simon-“ He cuts you off, but you’re half paying attention to him, too busy checking the site of Johnny’s chest tube, and then moving onto the dressing on his lower abdomen, ensuring it doesn’t feel scalding to the touch.

“He was fine. He was just… sleepin' and then-“ You move around the bed, pulling the oxygen tube longer, replacing the cannula with a mask.  

“Simon, I need you to step out.” You press two buttons on the machine, ensuring it’s on high flow, door sliding open with Nia’s arrival.

“No.” His refusal is steadfast.

“Simon, hey.” He lurches closer to Johnny, and on instinct, you reach out and grab his forearm, stopping him in his tracks. His eyes are wild, bleak with anguish, and his chest heaves heavily, panic radiating from his massive form. “Listen to me, listen. I’m here. I’ve got him, alright? But there are about to be five other people in this room, and we can’t work if you’re in the way.” You speak firmly, clearly, trying to get your point across as the door opens again, and the on-call attending is standing on the other side. Simon glances from him, back to you, and you nod reassuringly, swallowing the lump in your throat that forms when he latches onto your own arm, squeezing it tight. “He’s in good hands.” You tell him, nodding to the tech that’s waiting to usher him towards the hallway. 

He keeps his eyes trained on Johnny, before they flick over to where you’re lowering the bed completely flat, free hand on his bicep, thumb rubbing a small semi-circle into his skin, just like you watched Simon do last night, and earlier today. He swallows, endless depths of desperation welling in his eyes, and you take a deep breath, imbuing your voice with all the strength you have.

“I’ve got him. I promise.”

[sanesuki]

Winter Breeze

Highschool AU | Waking up late was never unusual for you. It was a bad habit for sure. You're often running hoping to catch the next train to make it in time for school. But one day when you spot a certain white haired individual, you're in for a surprise. Perhaps being late brought one good thing into your life. 

No JJK Manga Spoilers :) 

Gojo Satoru X Y/N 

Word Count : 1.3k

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Shit. Shit. Shit. 

Of course you're late.

When are you not? 

As you swiftly maneuver through the crowded train station, you mutter apology after apology whenever you accidentally bump into somebody. You try to ignore the stares and occasional glares from the passing civilians as you finally reach the turnaisles. Quickly tapping your phone on the scanner and rushing to the station. 

Your eyes dart to the screen hanging down from the ceiling near the escalators. 1 minute for the next train. 

Seriously? Okay then… What about the one after that-

20 minutes.  

Y/N doesn't miss a beat, already used to the delayed arrival of these trains on the daily. With haste she rushes to the escalator and speed walks up the moving steps, zig-zagging through people. Hopefully she can make it intime. 

She finally makes it to the last step and takes a deep breath. Sighing with relief at the sight of civilians still waiting for the upcoming train. 

That's when she spots him. 

In order to avoid a crowded cart, she walks further down the platform where less people are waiting. Y/N pauses in her step when she sees a specific figure in her peripheral vision. Turning her head slowly, her eyes land on the stranger. He's on the opposite platform waiting for a different train, leaning against the wall as he scrolls through his phone. 

The boy isn't doing anything flashy, just listening to music through his wired headphones. Yet he has such a unique appearance that it's almost impossible to look away from. She had to do a double take. He was that gorgeous. Y/N has never seen someone even look remotely close to him. White hair as pure as snow. Tall. Fit. Is he even human? 

Y/N wasn't close enough to see the color of his eyes but it didn't matter. She just knows they are beautiful. She just stood in the middle of the platform and admired him from across the train tracks, she definitely had not seen him before. She would have remembered if she did. 

Her heart skips a beat as he slowly raises his head almost as if he sensed someone staring. However before he spots her, the train zooms into the station. Blocking their line of view and bringing Y/N back to earth. She shakes her head trying to focus and gets on the train before the doors close.

Thankfully she finds a seat near the windows and plops down, putting her school bag on her lap. Out of curiosity, her head attempts to subtly turn and take one final glance at the boy. Surely she won't ever see him again after today. Too many possibilities were in the air. 

Perhaps he's a foreigner here on vacation. Maybe he doesn't live in this district. Who knows? 

So her eyes land on him once again. Once again staring at his phone with nonchalance. Until his eyes lift to meet hers, like he was expecting it. An unreadable expression on his face when staring at her. Immediately she quickly avoids eye contact and looks back down at her lap. How embarrassing, he caught her staring. 

The train slowly starts moving and Y/N sighs as she takes one final peek back at him. His eyes never left hers as his lips slowly curve upwards and….. he winks. She didn't have time to react as the train sped off. 

Leaving her to bury her head in her backpack. Her heart is beating so fast that it rivals the speed of the train.

Y/N was so lost in thought about the significance of the wink that she ended up missing her stop for school. 

All she could think about was their interaction and…….. blue. His eyes were crystal blue. 

She was in fact late to the first period. Nothing new. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ NEXT WEEK ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ 

“He's here again!” she mumbles under her breath as she spots him in the same spot as last time. Embarrassingly, she tried to show up around the same time for a few days now but has failed to see him. Today she decided to show up a bit early and it worked. If he winked at her that is a good sign right? 

Now he's there. Yet she's too nervous to do anything. I mean what can she even do when he's across the tracks? She never has even taken that train before. He seems to be taking the train to school as well. She can tell by a school bag he's carrying. 

Well she's not gonna keep staring like a creep….. She has to say something! 

Y/N takes a deep breath to calm her growing nerves. Her stomach feels all queasy and the hands hidden within her winter gloves are sweating. She doesn't have much experience with romance. But if she doesn't try now then she may not ever get another chance. 

With that in mind, she walks directly across from him on her platform and her hand slowly lifts up. It takes all of her courage to not chicken out and her cheeks already feel warm. Her hand starts waving towards him trying to grasp his attention. Thankfully after a few seconds, the boy notices and looks over at her. 

Oh. Oh shoot. 

Her heart flutters and she doesn't know what to do. I mean he cant hear her unless she screams. Her eyes darted around and the station was crowded as usual at this hour. What was she thinking?! In a matter of seconds he swiftly puts his phone in his coat pocket. Giving her all his attention. So he does remember her. 

Her brain short circuits and she slowly mouths that first thing she can think of. 

“I…. Like…. Your….hair!” 

….

….

….

She wants to die. 

Oh my god this is so embarrassing. She's never talking to any boy again. Goodbye world. He probably thinks she’s lame and awkward. With those looks he’s definitely popular at whatever school he attends. As Y/N is having an internal crisis, she watches as he likely thinks about her words. Honestly she hopes he didn't understand her. That will save her the embarrassment she brought upon herself. 

She watches as he tilts his head to the side and he smiles. 

Y/N swears she can hear her own heartbeat in her ears. He's pretty but the way his face brightens up when he smiles is just extraordinary. She didn't understand, it was in the middle of winter yet she felt hot to the touch.

“I…. Like…. Your…. Face” he mouths back to her as he pushes himself off the wall to stand up fully. Confidence radiating off him from that one line. 

Huh? Wait, did he just…

Before she had time to process this, his train zooms into the station and stops for passengers to get on. It blocked her view of him, thankfully erasing his view of her flustered state. It was short lived as he appeared near the window and continued staring at her with a smile or smirk, she couldn't quite tell. 

She saw as he lifted his hand and waved bye to her.

Y/N was so dazed at his responses that she didn't respond right away. But as the train slowly moved about to leave the station. Her hand quickly shoots up and waves bye. A look of awe in her face. 

“B-Bye……” she mumbles out loud as if he could hear her. Maybe it was her flustered face. Maybe it was the way her body was stiff as a rock. Maybe he saw her mumble something under her breath. 

Because after her little awkward wave to him, his lips curved upwards more and he started chuckling a little at her. Straight after that, the train zooms and exits the station in a flash. The cold breeze from the train's departure makes her hair sway in the wind. It's freezing out here, yet her body felt like it was on fire. 

She stood there frozen like winter air got the better of her. 

Already planning to come to this station at the same time tomorrow. 

And for the first time in a while Y/N was early for school.

[stardust-kenobi]

A Good Night's Rest

Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Summary: Din was your best friend, but you wanted him to be so much more. Turns out he feels the same way.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: SMUT, drinking, helmetless din, virgin!reader, SOFT MANDO <3

A/N: we will all collectively just pretend there’s a little guest room in the razorcrest, otherwise everyone’s fuckin on the cold floor ok and we cannot allow it.

“Dammit” You cursed at the dreaded transmitter that was probably older than you were.

Being a mechanic had its perks, but it truly had its challenges, too. Especially when you’d been assigned long-term work on a ship as old as the Razor Crest. Of course, a perk to that would be traveling with a Mandalorian. It was a rough couple of months getting him just to hold a conversation with you, but almost a year later, you'd never been more connected or closer to anyone else in your whole life. He was undoubtedly your best friend.

“Don’t worry about it. That thing has never worked right” Din said, startling you as he entered the cockpit. He was dismissive of the transmitter, which was all the more reason you wanted to fix it.

Sighing out in frustration, you accepted defeat. For now, anyways.

“I’ll get it figured out eventually” You assured him.

“If you say so" He chuckled softly.

"Are you doubting my capabilities?" You teased him.

"No, I am doubting the probability of that thing ever working again"

"That's fair" You smirked before looking back to your unfinished work.

"How are the engines looking? Are we good to go?" He asked.

"Yep. Everything else is looking good. Are we leaving tonight?"

"I'd like to get a good night's rest first. We can leave in the morning" He confirmed, leaning against the metal siding of the cockpit.

"Sounds good to me" You smiled back softly, subtly admiring his stance beside you.

"I'll probably go to bed soon" Din said, his sleeplessness showing itself in his voice.

A fun idea crept into your mind.

"Why waste such a perfect night to break this baby in?" You giggled as you pulled the bottle of liquor from the cabinet in the cockpit.

"How did you get that?" He said with a head tilt, questioning where and when you had the opportunity to acquire alcohol.

You raised your brows and shrugged your shoulders, "I stole it"

"Well, I assumed that" Din iterated, taking the bottle into his hand and observing the label, "but I am not surprised"

You watched as he looked around, as if trying to find some reason why he shouldn't indulge in some light drinking with his best friend tonight.

"I'll just be drinking all by myself, if you're not joining me" You raised your eyebrows at him.

"Fine” He gave in, sitting himself down in the pilot’s seat next to you in the copilot’s seat.

For a little while, you two indulged in the intoxicating effects of the liquor. You knew your limits and so did he. You stopped just before feeling your inhibitions slip away but felt fuzzy enough inside to enjoy the feeling.

Respectfully, you opted to look away whenever he took a sip, so as to not catch a glimpse of even his chin as he tipped the liquor into his mouth. His movements were slow as he set his glass down, and with your peripheral vision, you noted that he was done. With all the time you’d spent around him, you couldn’t actually imagine him actually having a face, he was just a helmet with a gentle voice. But you loved him.

Oh stars, you loved him…

The chances of him feeling the same were slim, but one more sip and you might just tell him.

As you stared at him, you were met with flashbacks of one particular night not too long ago. Din had accidentally walked in on you masturbating, and you didn’t notice he was there until a couple of seconds had passed. He couldn’t make himself look away from you in such a state, but the guilt of unintentionally invading your privacy ate at him every day since. Since that night, things had been a little bit awkward between you two

Not a single word was exchanged between you two, he just slowly walked out. You probably didn’t come out of your room for another day, and even now, you still hadn’t talked about it.

What he didn’t know it was him you were thinking about while you pleasured yourself.

“This stuff is…” You began, holding the bottle out and tilting your gaze at it.

“Strong?” Din finished your sentence.

“Very” you giggled in response.

Din stared at you for what felt like forever, the tension pulling tighter between your gazes. There was something so odd about the way his head pointed in your general direction just gave you butterflies. You wished so desperately to look into his eyes for real.

“I, um” He began, tripping on his own words before his thoughts were fully developed.

“What is it?” You tilted your head.

He paused, and looked at the ground, before turning back to you.

“I need to sleep” He sighed.

“Okay. It just seemed like you were going to say something?”

Please let him say that he loves you too.

“I don’t think I’ve drank enough to say it”

“Maybe I have” You pondered. It spilled off your tongue like honey, “I'm in love with you"

Okay where the fuck did that confidence come from?

He was still. More still than usual, if that were even possible. The thumping of your heart against the restraints of your chest rang terribly loud in your ears. If he’d said anything in the seconds that followed, you wouldn’t have even heard it. Any attempt to read his emotions was blocked by the shining reflection of his visor.

But he was silent, and you could only guess why…he didn’t feel the same way about you.

“I’m..” He tried to begin, but fell short of his words.

“Don’t” You began as mortification consumed you, “don’t say anything”

He remained stoic, and painfully quiet. Providing no goodbye or goodnight, you got up and made your way to your quarters on the Crest. Din didn’t stop you. He didn’t flinch, in fact, he barely breathed.

The frigid metal against your arms shot chills down your spine as you leaned against the door you had just closed behind you to your room.

The distant sounds of his footsteps carrying across the ship, led right to your door very shortly after you stormed off.

"Y/N" His soft, modulated voice rang the other side of the door, following a gentle knock.

What do you even say to him now that you've confessed something so bold to someone you're in such close proximity to all the time?

You slowly pulled the door open and were met with Din’s towering figure.

"I'm in love with you, too" He admitted quickly.

Now you found that it was you whose words were failing them. A choked breath hitched in your throat as you processed what he said.

"Y-you do?" You stuttered in disbelief.

"Yes. I did not know what to say before. I wasn't expecting you to say that" He said softly, his tone growing timid.

You stepped back and let him enter your crowded quarters, which truly was only enough space for your small bed and a cabinet. The forced proximity to him heightened the tension even further. You sat on the edge of your bed, and he mirrored you, finding only inches of space next to you.

"I want to kiss you" You blurted softly.

"I want to kiss you too, Y/N. I'm sorry I can't" He responded, cautiously placing his hand on your knee.

"I know what you can do" You suggested.

Your trembling fingers wrapped around the gloved material of his hand and guided it in between your legs. There was no resistance from either of you, but you sensed his nerves as well as your own.

The shifting of your hips told him you wanted him to move. He rubbed against your aching and sensitive bud through the rough of your pants. You wanted him bare against your skin, but you knew this needed to be slow.

Too shy to just let him watch the look of pleasure upon your face, you buried your head into his shoulder while he rubbed your clit. He groaned as you let a faint whimper escape you…a sound he’d only dreamed of hearing before.

"Are you sure?" He begged for reassurance.

"Are you?" You countered him.

“Yes” He assured with no hesitation, like he’d been waiting for you for years.

“I’ve never done this before” You muttered lowly, ashamed to admit it, but knowing it was necessary for him to be aware that you were a virgin.

“Ever?” He leaned back.

You shook your head in confirmation.

Din froze in his tracks, halting his rhythmic motions at your core. You worried he wouldn’t want to be your first. You worried it would be too much pressure for him to make it special for you.

He pulled away completely.

Something you’d never seen him do before caught your immediate attention. Slowly, his fingers curled underneath the bottom edge of his helmet and lifted it from his head. He didn’t hesitate for a second.

“Din what are y-”

You couldn’t even remember to breathe as his face came to view. His brown hair lay so perfectly pressed to his head, restricted for so long by the constraints of his mask. He wasn't a stranger. This wasn't unfamiliar. It was him.

And he was beautiful.

His creed meant nothing to him in that moment…the moment he finally was able to stare into your eyes for real. Nothing mattered to him except you. A lump grew quickly in your throat, and you welcomed it as a tear fell from your eye.

"You deserve for this to be special, Y/N. You deserve to look into the eyes of the man who loves you"

The rapid fire of your beating heart skipped over itself. His voice was smooth and raw...and scared. His entire life has been spent hiding away from everyone he has ever cared about behind that helmet. But now...he truly sees you.

"Din" You breathed.

The second that his lips brushed against yours, the world around you fell silent. Fingertips trailed along your jaw before moving to wrap themselves in your hair. Din was delicate and careful. He worried he'd break you if he didn't control his desire that had pent itself up for months of being near you.

You were tremendously overwhelmed with surprise and butterflies, which fueled your hunger for him as he found familiarity in your lips, and pressed harder into the kiss. His trembling hand returned in between your legs, applying pressure against your clit through your pants.

Din was no stranger to sex, but he was a stranger to your body, and a stranger to loving you in the way he was always aching to.

“I’m going to take care of you, Y/N” Din whispered against your lips.

He motioned for you to lie back, and guided you with his arm pressed gently into the curve of your back. You fiddled with the clasp of your pants, but his hand replaced your own and successfully unfastened it. You worked to remove them, but Din helped you peel them down your legs.

Nothing could have pulled your admirable gaze away from him. There were no words to describe how beautiful he was. Din hovered above you, staring right back in disbelief of having you beneath him like this. Your fingertips traced the line of his jaw, your palm finally resting against the scruff of his cheek. His eyes fell shut, being so touch-starved that he melted in your grasp.

Din knew that he wanted to stay like this forever, but he also knew how badly he needed to be inside you. As he stood to his feet and removed his armor, revealing the soft material beneath it that clung to his skin, your thighs clenched together in anticipation. With his continued help, he carefully lifted your shirt above your head, revealing you wore nothing beneath it. The guttural moan that grazed your ear when he saw your breasts sent a wave of heat between your legs.

His finger looped around the hem of your panties and awaited your confirmation before eagerly removing them.

You were nervous. Stars you were so nervous. Somehow you found comfort in studying his face, watching his reaction to seeing your exposed body on display for him.

Your lips intertwined again. The supple caress of his hand traveling up your thigh sent chills down your spine. It only took one light touch against your folds for him to feel how bad you wanted him. Suddenly you felt one finger slide inside of you.

He broke away from devouring your lips, “Is this okay?”

“Yes” You breathed.

What he did with his fingers felt beyond anything you’d ever done to yourself. He curled his finger as he pumped it in and out of you, savoring the sound of your slickness wrapped around his digits. You grinded against his hand, signaling him to move faster.

Din watched you, enamored with your expression and how you melted for him just by the touch of his hand. Stars began forming in your eyes as the haze of your orgasm crept up slowly. Din felt the walls of your cunt tightening slightly as he went faster.

“It feels so good, Din, please don’t stop”

And he didn’t stop. Stars, he’d do anything you asked of him. Especially now.

With the arching of your back, Din knew you’d reached your release. You cried out for him, digging your nails into the skin of his neck, shutting your eyes tight, overwhelmed with pure pleasure.

“Look at me, cyar’ika” He instructed. Your eyes flew up to stare deep into his beautiful brown eyes.

Your release overtook your entire body, sending a heated flash of vibration across your skin, tingling and centering at the thrusts of his fingers.

“There you go sweetheart, you’re doing so good” He praised.

You rode out your high as he talked you through it. Unable to fathom the total ecstasy you were feeling. Your breathing was heavy as you floated back down, and you then realized how tightly your hands were gripping his body. As you flashed him a smile, he softly smiled back, his eyes scanning your body and face.

As you reached for his pants, he hurriedly removed his shirt followed by his pants, now leaving him completely bare for you too. You stared at his cock, impressed by his size, and clenched your cunt around nothing as your body begged for him.

You spread your legs for him, as his hips situated themselves to fit perfectly between them.

“I’ll go as slow as you need me to” he assured you, “I don’t want to hurt you”. Just then, the tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, before he finally buried himself completely inside of you. A whimper of slight discomfort escaped you, and Din planted a soft kiss upon your open mouth to soothe you. You were so tightly wrapped around him that he almost lost it immediately. It was such a wonderful new feeling to experience being this close to Din.

Your body adjusted itself quicker than you anticipated to his size. He began to thrust slowly, still giving you time to relax. A lustful whimper fell from your lips, showing Din that you were experiencing pleasure rather than pain now. Once his thrusts found perfect and steady rhythm inside you, he began to moan softly with you. 

Your eyes meet and lock on each other while he continues to curl his hips passionately into yours.

“Does that feel good, Y/N?” He moaned and kissed your neck gently.

“Yes, Din” You managed to mumble through your new feeling of pleasure.

The sensation of him filling you was overwhelming, and your skin burned with such a wonderful fire. You were sure that you’d never get enough of his lips against yours.

“You are so beautiful, cyar’ika” He whispered, his hand traveling down between your breasts, familiarizing himself with the feeling of your skin against his. Taking one of your breasts into his hand, he squeezed it gently.

“Harder” You begged him. He looked at you with uncertainty, but wouldn’t dare deny you.

He began fucking you faster, now. As his cock brushed against your most sensitive spot inside you with every snap of his hips, your moans grew louder and more intense. Din loved every sound you made. He was quieter than you, but his whimpering was music to your ears.

“Y/N, I won’t last much longer” He faltered in his thrusts as he got close to his release.

You nodded and pulled his face into yours, kissing him hard. Your lips against his pushed him over the edge. His fist gripped the sheets as he came, his moans deeper and louder than before.

“Fuck, Y/N” He cried out.

The warmth of his release coated your walls, and you cherished the feeling of truly being filled by him. All of him.

The room was filled with only the sound of your beating hearts and the gradual rate of your breathing coming down to normal. Din was careful when he removed himself from you, and the second he did, you already missed feeling him so close. He lay next to you, your warm bodies still pressed close to each other. The silence between you spoke louder than any words you could manage to speak.

“Are you okay?” He asked while caressing your cheek.

You smiled warmly at him. There was a soreness you felt inside, but it was a sensation you welcomed if it meant that Din was the one to take your virginity.

“I’m more than okay” You assured him, “that was everything I ever hoped it would be”

“I love you, Y/N” He said sweetly, warming your soul as he said it.

“I love you, too”

———————

Taglist: @lokigirlszendaya

[cypressvs]

DON'T TWIST THE LION'S TAIL

pairing: jing yuan/gn!reader

cw: suggestive but not explicit, workplace romance?, reader is an unspecified long-life species

wc: 1.0k | join the taglist

Jing Yuan is a cat. You're sure of it.

He's abnormally agile. Foxians were born with heightened senses and naturally superceded an average human when it came to their predispositions but even they would think twice, thrice, before jumping off a three-story high building. Not Jing Yuan though. He just leaps, twirls his Guan Dao with an ease unparalleled, and even had the grace to catch the tea set you managed to throw into the air in fright before speeding off to catch the runaway criminal with a carefree smile.

How many years ago was that? You didn't count but it had to be a good few hundred years since then because that day, on your first meeting, Jing Yuan was a nobody. He was just another face among the ranks of the Cloud Knights that wasn't memorable enough to be remembered. Now, he was a general and his pictures sell for a concerning amount of Strales. No one in the Xianzhou who's in their right mind would not know his name and by extension, yours since you're practically attached by the hip.

Officially, you were an unemployed nobody but everyone in the Seat of the Divine Foresight considered you to be the General's caretaker. The legal matters that concerned the affairs of the Xianzhou were rightfully managed by the secretaries employed there but the more menial and more... troublesome duties were handed off to you. Sometimes, you meet their gazes and they're filled with nothing but respect and gratitude because no one, not a single one, wanted to be the holder of your duties. Why?

Because Jing Yuan was a cat. A temperamental, needy, and mischievous one.

You'd never think of it if you didn't know him first but Jing Yuan was a picky eater. You have to feed him from your hand if he's eating something for the first time. If not that, he'll randomly send you to buy snacks in the middle of a work day. You tried to refuse once but you learned the hard way that not doing as he wishes involved him mocking you by refusing to budge an inch from his seat. At this point, it was easier to just fold and give him a bite after every five papers signed.

Jing Yuan also likes warm spaces. On days when work is more manageable, he'll drag you outside for a stroll but you always end up seating under the shade of a tree in an otherwise empty field. He lies around with eyes closed and an immoveable smile on his face as he enjoys the soft breeze. All the while, you're cursing the static in your legs as Jing Yuan doesn't just lie anywhere, no, he lies on you because he'll be damned if he lets you work while he lazes around. Or so he says.

Other times, Jing Yuan will ignore you entirely, not even sparing you a gaze, yet pouting (in his very own Jing Yuan way; indecipherable to most but not to you) when you don't attempt to console him. He lingers around your peripherals but otherwise refuses to utter a single word to you until you sigh and pull him to you, brushing his hair gently as you tell him about your day. Scrimping out on the details is not allowed. You have to tell him about every little detail from the food you ate for breakfast to your meeting with your visiting relatives or else he'll just sulk even more. You can't figure out the pattern to his attitude but you do remember vaguely that it was the worst about a hundred and two years ago. Such a shame that you had to appease him, hurriedly leaving your poor cousin in the market alone. He says that he understands with a knowing laugh but you don't quite understand yourself. What is there to know anyway?

Jing Yuan, much like a cat, does whatever he wants with almost no care for the rest of the world. Maybe that's why you're in this position now.

You're made intimately aware of how intimidating he can be with how he towers over you, casting a deep shadow on your frame as he firmly pinned you down his desk. His gaze is deep, molten and hiding behind a mystery you were never able to unearth until now. You try to tug yourself out of his grip but that only shuffled the paperwork your back is pressed into.

"Jing Yuan—" your words die down on your throat as he finally shows the first drop of emotion on his face. A smile. Nothing you'd never seen before but for some reason, a shiver climbs down your spine. Alarms flag inside your head as heat pooled under your skin. It floods your muscles that ached—screamed—at you to run. You exhale shakily but when your eyes meet his again, all your will to fight dissipates.

"What else must I do, hm?" He whispers and it might just be your imagination but you swore you saw his teeth glint under the moonlight. "What more shall I give to keep your eyes on me?"

You swallow and you're reminded of something. With your back pressed and with no way to escape, you are nothing but a predator's prey. One that he taunts as you spy the almost imperceptible lilt to his smile. The realization makes you avert your gaze, embarrassed by the heat that races under your cheeks.

"See? You're doing it again. You're warm," he whispers as he lowers his face closer to yours, "then you're cold. Tell me: what conclusion was I supposed to derive from your behavior?"

When you don't respond, Jing Yuan continues. "Logic dictates that you're disinterested but your body—" One hand slides from your wrist to settle on your waist. He gives you the opportunity to run yet somehow, you hesitate. "—says otherwise."

His hair cascades over his shoulders, a lock falling over like a moonbeam by your check and it tickles. It does not go unnoticed, and Jing Yuan chuckles; he delights in the muffled whimper he was able to draw out of you and rejoices at the needy breath you release when he grazes his lips over yours before stopping all at once.

"Well?" He hums. "It appears that I am indeed growing older. My patience is not what it once was. So tell me, little bird, while I can still restrain myself: what is it that you want from me?"

© 2023 CYPRESSVS. all rights reserved. do not copy, claim, repost or translate in any platforms.

[thebellearchives]

I wish you would write a fic where Inumaki watches non sorcerer!reader from a distance since the Shibuya incident. He’s always there, making sure they’re safe and healing, and reader swears they see his face in passing crowds, passing it off as a coincidence. Until a chance encounter…

𝐂𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍

~ inumaki toge ; jujutsu kaisen

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : you long for the comfort of the arms of your saviour, until you realize that he might need comfort in your arms instead

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, non-sorcerer reader, mutual pining, comfort, mentions of blood, suggested trauma, a little emotional ?, probably inconsistent with the canon shibuya incident-itadori’s extermination transition

‧₊˚ a / n : i started writing and it just kept getting longer and longer and i couldn’t stOP, this one qualifies as hurt-comfort i think? so ill tag it as both fluff and angst oop, hope you like it anon 🫶🏻

Ever since Shibuya nothing has been the same. Debris, cough, grey days, lavender eyes. Fear, panic, emptiness, white hair flowing in the wind. Silence, visions, dark purple fabric. You tell yourself you must be going insane, seeing him around the corners of dark alleys, standing at at the other side of the road outside the store, in the reflections of broken glass on the floor. But you wake up from your bed every night gasping for air, wishing he’d come to your rescue once again, thinking he’d come through your door. Longing to feel in the air that sweet scent of lilies that came from his clothes when he picked you up and took you to safety. To hear once again the hypnotic sound of his voice that saved your life that fateful day.

And as you make your way back to your apartment you hold your things close to your chest. There were many things about the incident that didn’t make sense, the whole situation was just ininteligible to you. The rumbling of the floor and the loud noises, the way things would just hit on the walls or the asphalt around you and not being able to tell where they were coming from. The huge, insect-like monster that stood on its hind legs as it took impulse to lunge forwards and take your life. Until you heard his voice and the monster exploded, fading into thin air just as quickly as it had appeared in front of you. But if none of that had happened, then how did his hands on your shoulders feel so real and warm? The worry in his lovely lilac eyes as he checked that you were in perfect conditions, or the way you could almost swear you could smell the copperish scent of the blood on his lips?

As you walked, you held in your hand the small bottle of cough syrup that he had accidentally left behind that night, the only proof you had that he existed. Your brows furrowed as you stared at the bottle, your steps coming to an end. If you could only see him once more and thank him for saving you, just hold onto him and feel like everything would be okay again…

A sudden movement caught your attention from your peripheral vision. Startled, your eyes drove to a narrow alley to your left, fear almost freezing you in place. But you caught it: a little glimpse of a familiar figure. So the fear turned into anxiety, maybe you were going crazy, or maybe not, but there was only one way to figure it out. Your feet moved almost automatically, sprinting towards the alley.

“Wait!” you voiced, wishing with all your might you were talking to him and not to a panic induced vision.

The figure continued to quickly try and escape by turning into different directions to lose you but it didn’t fade away, so your heartbeat quickened. It was him, it had to be.

“Wait, please! I just wanna talk!” you tried to pick up the pace, but your rushing only made you trip. You hitched a breath and tried not lose balance, looking down by pure instinct, but when you glanced back up he was nowhere to be seen.

Frowning, you started running now. You couldn’t let him go, not when he was so close to you, not when your chance to feel that relief again was escaping like water through your fingers. You turned to your left, right, left… until you were no longer sure where you were at all. The alleys seemed to had turned into a maze at some point with nothing more than trash cans and plastic bags everywhere.

A knot formed in your throat and you could feel tears of frustration gathering at the corners of your eyes. Why did he leave? Didn’t he hear you? Had you really imagined him after all?

A pile of trash fell down somewhere behind you, making you turn around instantly. Your heartbeat quickened in a glint of hope.

“Hello? Are you there?” taking a hesitant step forwards, your eyes tried to scrutinise the scene, trying to catch a glimpse of his figure, maybe his hair, anything.

“Listen, I just want to thank you… I thought…” you stopped yourself for a second, taking another step forwards and a deep breath “i thought i could just have a word with you?”

No response, a pained frown slowly appearing in your face, you bit your lower lip in doubt. Fine, one last try.

“Okay, you don’t have to talk, you don’t have to say anything, I’ll do the talking. But please… just come out, I want to see you.”

Something else fell down behind you, startling you once again and making you turn around in panic. A bad premonition grew in your chest, something wasn’t right. You could now feel it in your bones: you should not be there. And if there was something around it surely wasn’t who you were hoping for.

“What- ? Who’s there? Don’t come close!” you tried to flee, turning towards the direction you had come from.

But you ended up running into something that wasn’t there before, falling down onto the cold hard floor. You looked up just to find a horrid creature. Your eyes widened, panic weakening your legs and a scream getting stuck in your vocal cords. It was so similar to the one monster that had tried to hurt you the night of Shibuya, with dark green skin, multiple arms and eyes. The monster showed a creepy smile, widening its mouth, ready to attack.

You felt your stomach turn, your body trembling and the panic traveling through your body until your survival instinct kicked in. Somehow you managed to stand up and tried to run away, only this time you ran into something else. Or rather someone.

The white haired boy quickly grabbed you by your waist and moved you behind him, shielding you and defiantly glaring at the creature. You felt all your air freeze inside your lungs. He was there, he was real. His white hair was slightly disheveled, his purple jacket had one of the sleeves ripped off and you noticed he was now missing one of his arms. You wanted to speak to him, say anything, but you didn’t even know his name.

The creature laughed, sending a wave of disgust down your spine. Lunging forwards, it extended its arms wide and ready to attack. The boy didn’t hesitate, his powerful voice filling the alley loud and clear.

“Explode!”

The sound waves of his command hit the creature head on, causing a spark of fire to ignite in its skin and suddenly causing an explosion that sent it flying backwards, ripping its skin into shreds and filling the air with ashes and a strange smell of sulfure. You stood there behind him, eyes widened and your jaw dropped, until he suddenly started coughing.

“Are you okay?!” you tried turning him around, but he stopped you and nodded immediately, frowning a little and clearing his throat.

He glanced back at you with concern written all over his eyes. You remembered the last time had saved you and how he had stared at you just like that before holding your face in his hands and your shoulders in search of wounds. And he did just that again. He reached with his hand to cup your cheek, lifting your chin a little to make sure you didn’t have any scrapes or blood, before checking your neck and your arms.

“I’m fine, I’m-” he coughs again, your brows furrow in concern when you catch a glimpse of blood dripping from the corner of his lips “but you’re not, let me help you”

You reach to brush his hair out of his face and clean the blood, but he pulls back slightly. You freeze, and so does he, blinking a little before his eyes go back to yours cautiously.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to cross a line” you reply as gently as possible, pulling your hand away before hesitantly taking out the small bottle from your pocket “I have this… will it help?”

His eyes widen a little when he sees the small bottle of cough syrup in your hand and he can’t help but smile slightly. Nodding, he takes it from your hand and drinks it as if it were juice, sighing in relief right after and cleaning the little droplets of blood from his lips with the back of his hand. You take your time to carefully study him, trying to engrave every single detail of his into your brain. The messy rebellious hair strands that refused to go back to their place, the way his long white lashes moved along with his gorgeous lavender eyes and the lines and circles that framed his thin but rosy lips. He looked tired, like he had been fighting for longer than he should have, like he could use some comfort. The comfort that you had found in his arms last time. So when he looks back at you you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth.

“Would you be okay with a hug?”

He blinked a little in surprise before his tense muscles relaxed slowly and a little smile lifted the corners of his lips. He nods gently again, you smile back in tender concern. Not waiting for anything else you crashed onto him, hugging him tightly. Closing your eyes, you let the warmth of his solid body calm down the still agitated beating of your heart, the worn down scent of lilies you remembered filling your senses once again.

“Thank you” you whispered “for taking care of me all this time”

Sighing, he hugged back, his arm wrapping around your waist and resting his head on yours. Now you knew it: he was real, and you weren’t going to let him go now. Not when both of you were in this dire need from the solace that your closeness brought.

“Always.”

[porcelainseashore]

Teenage Headache Dreams (1)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: High School! College! Leon Kennedy x Dancer! Fem! Reader

Summary: You’re a bored, but ambitious high school student who can’t wait to escape small town life and make it in the big city. You thought you had it all figured out, until you unwittingly befriend the resident golden boy, Leon. A series of events beginning from junior year to college until Resident Evil 2 Remake.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Eventual Smut, No (Y/N), Ambiguous/Open Ending

Content: High School AU, College AU, Pre-Resident Evil 2, Fluff, Romance, Cliche, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Lack of Communication

Author's Note: This is my first RE / Leon fic, but I wanted to try my hand at writing this little self-indulgent and potentially clichéd series. As you can guess, I love dance and high school dramas. I also created this with a sequel in mind, which will take place post-RE4R and involve more horror and mystery elements.

Title from Teenage Headache Dreams by Mura Masa and Ellie Rowsell / Wolf Alice.

AO3 Link

Chapter 1: An Unexpected Friendship

It was one of those beautiful late summer days with endless light and clear blue skies overhead. You leaned back against the bleachers, feeling the sun cast a warm glow on your face and the sultry breeze against your skin, sighing in utter bliss. The football field and the running track surrounding it were completely empty, just how you liked it, silent except for the relentless trilling of insects and the occasional bird that flew by. No one in your face, no one judging you or telling you how you should be like, no one you had to put up a front for. Just peace and quiet. A place where you could sit alone with your thoughts - and you had a lot of them - mostly about leaving this goddamn small town with its insular, mind-numbing inhabitants.

A trail of thick smoke wafted from your mouth as you took a drag from the joint you had been nursing for awhile. You weren’t exactly high as a kite, but you were definitely feeling some of its effects. You chuckled and gave a wry smile as the thought of being caught red-handed visualized in your mind. Sure, it was highly illegal what you were doing, much less on school property, but you were always a bit of a rebel. And frankly, you couldn’t give a shit. It was already August, but most students were still away on holiday. Not you though, you had to work on your extracurriculars. That’s what you had put your mind to this summer. No fancy beach getaways like the rest of your cheerleading mates had jetted off to. Just a grueling dance intensive and showcase you had auditioned successfully for in one of the larger cities nearby, as well as a bunch of campus visits. You needed to perfect your performance technique for that arts college application coming up in about a year’s time. You started way earlier than the rest even thought about it, because you knew you only had one chance for a one-way ticket out of this hole and you sure as hell weren’t taking any chances. Well, except with that funky smelling thing in your hand. 

No one would be here anyway, it’s a Sunday for crying out loud! You shook your head in exasperation. Besides, you needed to relax and take the edge off a little.

Just as if you jinxed it with those thoughts, you heard the gate to the field unlocking and creaking open behind you. 

Shit, shit, shit! Your eyes darted around frantically, but your movements were just so slow. Why the fuck would someone be here now?

Before you could drop the joint and stub it out with your shoe, a mop of dirty blonde hair and what you made out as someone dressed in a blue tracksuit with a duffel bag slung over his right shoulder entered your peripheral vision. It was soon accompanied by a sharp twist of his head in your direction, bangs falling over his deep blue eyes and you knew he had found the source of the offending smell, probably even from a mile away. His gaze trailed their way from your startled face to your joint hanging limply at the edge of your fingers and then back to your face again. His expression turned from confusion to a frown and then into a knowing smirk as he crossed his arms and leaned against the bleachers.

“Oh, hello. Didn’t expect to see you here. You got cheer practice or something?”

God, he was teasing you. At least you hoped that was all it was and not some form of blackmail. Well, no point hiding now.

“I’m off-duty,” you retorted. You tried to jog your memory of the boy standing in front of you. You were social, or at least you had to be with the rest of your girlfriends to keep up appearances, but you never really bothered with the people here beyond superficial conversations. Then you finally found it - a vague recollection of last season’s track and field meet. He had been one of the better sprinters, maybe the best even, you can’t really remember. There was an afterparty, and you congratulated him, but you doubt there was anything more substantive than that.

“Leon, isn’t it?”

His eyes perked up slightly and he smiled. “In the flesh.”

You snorted at his cheesy reply. What was he pulling? 

“They gave you the key?” It almost sounded as if you were jealous.

He uncrossed his arms and placed his duffel bag on one of the benches in front of him, rummaging through its contents. “Yeah, I got a comp in the new term coming up.” Every now and then he glanced up at you, as if he wanted to ask something, but stopped himself.

A sense of boldness surged within you, as you felt like evening the odds a bit. “What? You want some?” You waved the joint in his face.

That certainly caught his attention. He stared for a good moment, before giving another one of his playful smiles and shaking his head. “Maybe after practice.” He unzipped his jacket and put it away. It was warm enough to train in his sports tank and as you admired the lean, muscular structure of his arms and shoulders now bared open, you couldn’t complain.

“So, how did you get in?”

Fuck. You snapped out of your reverie. He got you there, but you didn’t feel like lying. “Jumped the fence. You should try it some time.” You replied as nonchalantly as possible.

“Didn’t know you had it in you,” he laughed.

“Oh, you’d be surprised.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Will I now?” The way it rolled off his tongue felt like a challenge and you secretly enjoyed this banter going on between you, as if you had known each other for years.

Shrugging your shoulders, you took another hit from the joint and let the calmness envelope you. “I never disappoint.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Leon flashed a wide grin that made you feel a knot forming in your stomach, but you didn’t know why. 

He started to move towards the tracks, but stopped short, turning back to meet your eyes again. “Look, you don’t have to worry about all of that.” He gestured to what you were holding and the general surroundings. “I’m not going to tell.” With that, he made a sign that resembled crossing his heart. “It’ll be between you and me.” 

You would have thought it was a joke if not for the sincere look he gave you, before heading off to train. That, and the fact that he did indeed take up your offer to join you afterwards in sharing what was left of the joint. You didn’t expect someone like him to. He seemed a bit too much of a straight-laced, golden boy for that. But then again, life was filled with surprises and you quietly scolded yourself for playing into stereotypes again - something you despise others doing to you.

It prompted both of you to converse even more until the late evening where you even missed your dinner. The questions and responses just flowed.

It turned out that you would share a number of classes together in the new term, specifically Math, History and Biology. Leon was a real earful when it came to his “insightful” one-liners on the teachers, which made you bury your head in your hands and groan. You never realized he would be such a goofball, but you found it somewhat endearing.

Like you, he was popular at school, but unlike you, he seemed to enjoy the company and appeared to be an open book. He would say it how it is, sometimes to the point of being blunt to a fault. Still, you guessed people found him rather easy-going and likable, in a non-threatening sort of a way. A part you wondered if chance meetings like today were how he made most of his friends.

Leon didn’t really have a plan for college yet. He just knew he wanted to do something good and help other people. You had a word for it - “idealistic”. He just shrugged in response, eyes downcast, until you assured him that it was an admirable quality, and you were the jaded one. He made a toast to your future in some arts college in the big city with his water bottle, remarking with a hint of self-deprecation that he wished he had a clearer idea of what he wanted to do with his life.

In turn, he asked you about your dealer. You had to stifle a laugh at that one. Generally, you weren’t as big into smoking up as he thought, but this time you bummed it off one of the seniors as a favor he owed you for hooking him up with one of your cheerleader friends. It didn’t stop Leon from calling you the “high school’s little pothead” every now and then though. He peered at you intently with his lip curled in amusement, as you rolled your eyes each time.

It had been such a long time since you could joke and speak your mind with someone this way. There wasn’t that suffocating nausea of pretending to be someone else around him and he had been so relaxed with you too. You could finally breathe again, and you’d like to think it wasn’t just the weed talking.

Whatever it was, you guessed this was the beginning of a real friendship - one that happened out of serendipity, but made you feel like you weren’t going to rot away in this small town. Well, not alone anyway.

[kithtaehyung]

busted (3tan) (teaser) | myg

teaser: busted (m) (3tan10)  pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) , jungkook x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call rating/genre: m (18+) ; [redacted] ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: [redacted lol just trust me] note: alright, listen.. the chapter is coming along but plans and life got in the way so i wasn’t able to get it done before tour. however, i do have a lot of it written/halfway done, so i feel comfortable enough to offer y’all a teaser and will finish it out once i’m done with this trip. i do hope y’all understand, 3tan is coming back v v soon ! :’))  note 2: as for the rest of this chapter.. fuck lol warnings: none for teaser, final list to be named on drop day! est. drop date: late may - early june 2023 teaser wc: 1.8k est. total wc: 15-18k

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Here goes nothing and everything.

It was fifteen years ago when you first met Jungkook. When the sidewalks in your neighborhood were fewer and the occupancy in your house was higher. 

A tiny boy, he was immediately ready to stay by your side, despite the limited amount of time he got to hang around before his parents corralled his energy back inside their car. 

Later on, he would tell you that had something to do with them not wanting him influenced by your brother and his group. But you didn’t know that at the time. 

Ever since the two of you met, you became the best of friends. And as you grew older, it was only natural that feelings bloomed with everything else. 

In the midst of an ever changing garden, you found something that never wavered, vibrant in color and immovable at its root. 

Which was strange. You’d never compared people to flora before him. 

But, because of Jungkook, you couldn’t help but see everyone as such—lilies, buttercups, the ones that trap to survive. 

And he was the prettiest, strongest flower of them all.

There was rain. There were storms. But with them came hope, and a pair of cheap rings that the two of you bought nestled nicely in boxes, waiting to be unearthed when you were ready.

However. 

What also came was a lesson. One that you would learn again when two of every seat remained unused in your household. 

A lesson that people are more like seasons than flowers.

They change with or without you. 

And they pass by.

“We can go somewhere quieter if you want,” Jungkook offers. And you know he’s going to suggest your room before he even utters the words.

But of course he adds a small, “If I’m allowed in there anymore.”

When he laughs, your smile is as slow as your head shake, a few memories of old tasting bittersweet on your tongue. “We can.”

“Okay.”

When you make your way to your room, you hear the thumps of music and rhythms of conversation—both casual and loud—echoing throughout the house. Some people are sharing laughs, others are scooting just a bit closer, and a lucky one is cackling before demanding that everyone hand over their money. 

All of them oblivious to the fact that you’re about to rip off a piece of your heart.

Well. That may not be the case. But based on the conversation that you had with Jungkook before your interview, this wasn’t going to be an easy one in the slightest—not for him, nor for you.

But if he’s gonna keep pushing forward, this is a stop you need to put up regardless.

During a party isn’t what you had in mind, though. Much less one in your own house.

You don’t know if anyone sees you open your door for Jungkook to pass through, or if they notice the slump of your mood, but you figure no one will care anyways. 

Until you see someone out of the corner of your peripheral.

And the skip of your heart tells you who it is.

Occupying one of the hallways a ways away, you can tell he’s very aware of you despite being in the middle of a chatty group.

But what’s on his mind? Is he worried? Is he gonna ask what this is about?

Damn it. You’re just gonna have to tell him later. You can’t exactly do anything now. 

A voice peeps from behind your tense shoulders,

“You okay?”

Fuck. 

Turning, you nod to the boy in your room before shutting your door, giving one more look to the man whose last text you couldn’t read.

And the way he stares makes you wanna bolt from everyone entirely.

When your door clicks shut, you slowly swivel, only the bass of your brother’s music pushing the walls in closer. 

Jungkook’s doing exactly what you knew he’d do, wandering around your room and either leaning in to observe, or lightly touching things that he remembers. 

The soft puff of a laugh snaps you into focus. “I can’t believe you still have all his medals up.”

Ah. He even remembers the way you have all your brother’s trophies and achievements displayed—all because you liked seeing them shine, and he didn’t want them in his room.

Sweeping your gaze along two of your walls, you let out a tiny sound of amusement while agreeing, “I can. Too lazy to take them down.” 

“I can do it,” he immediately responds. “If you need me to.”

If it had been five years ago, you would’ve been enamored that he even offered.

But five years ago is when he shattered any hopes you had for the two of you, so you turn him down yet again. “It’s okay.” 

“You sure?”

“We’re here to talk, not decorate, Jungkook.”

He stares before nodding in dejection, eyes finding something other than you. “It’s still weird to hear you say my name.”

It’s weird to say it. 

But you can’t let him know you agree, so the sound you make is half-cautious and weakly lighthearted. “You think so?”

“Ah, yeah.” He flashes a smile that still squeezes air from your lungs. “I’d gotten too used to all the names you had for me.”

“Oh, god.”

“But I guess someone else gets to hear them now.”

Goddamn it. He’s not gonna give up, just like he said right before your interview. 

“Who are you seeing?” 

“Kook…” 

“I wanna know.” 

“Why?”

He walks over to your nightstand, picking up a picture of you and your friends from years back. 

And your heart pangs at how big his back has become. 

Without turning, Jungkook lifts his head to stare at your ceiling. And if he’s wondering whether the glow stars he stuck all over it are still there or not, you don’t know if you’d admit that you never took them down. 

“So that I’d know if I still have a chance.” 

“You already had yours,” you whisper. “Remember?”

And when you look up, he’s already staring at you with regret. 

Memories start to come back, but you shove them away with force, trying to empty your sinking boat with a teaspoon. 

Every time he had walked back from school with you, every time he would make you laugh when you felt alone, every time he stayed at your place when your brother had to be out—all of them competed with each other to punch you in the gut and push you to your knees. 

“I do,” is all he says before softly placing the frame on your bed. “I fucked that up, didn’t I.” 

The times he said he’d be there when you needed him, the times he said it was gonna be okay when you struggled with your seemingly deepest darkest secrets. 

All the times you knew you’d have a long future with him. 

“You did.”

Everything leading up to the time he said you should break up before you left for university.

Right before you were going to tell him you loved him.

Your heart hasn’t beat in awhile, but you don’t notice until Jungkook starts walking towards your planted feet. Was he really so far away? How did he cover the distance between so fast?

With a sigh occupying your chest, you muse that he looks so different, but also not different at all. 

And, just like the time you saw him downtown, your brain doesn’t know how to separate the Jungkook you knew from the one you see in front of you. 

Because they are still the same.

You don’t budge as he stands resolute, inches away but encasing you in his familiar presence. When his hand comes up to your face, he almost touches—but the slight hesitation has you holding your breath before he surrenders his hand at his side. 

“I was an idiot,” he admits, throat seemingly small and making yours the same size. “I never should’ve… I can’t believe I…” 

You watch as he flips his head up, and you hate how you know exactly what he’s trying to hide. 

But your soul still remembers the wound it was dealt. So while you don’t want him feeling this way, you’re perfectly okay to fight back. 

He doesn’t get to cry when he’s the reason for all those tears. 

“And yet you did,” you remind him, proud of how stable your voice leaves lips that used to seek his. “And you left me so fucking confused.” 

“I know.”

“Do you really?” 

He flickers regretful eyes your way, giving you all the room to talk. 

And you’re going to.

“Do you actually know, Kook? How fucked up that made me feel right before going where I knew nobody. No one.” 

His nostrils flare while eyebrows flinch. 

You expel a tough breath, everything that happened before bubbling up to the surface. Nights you spent wondering what happened, days you spent feeling unwanted, times you felt so fucking alone.

“Is it true that you even loved me?”

“Yes,” he finally shatters, face contorting and eyes welling at their rims. “Of course I did.” 

Did.

“I still do.”

Liar.

“I thought I was the only one.” You search his eyes, hating how you would comfort him in an instant if this were any other circumstance. Hating, hating, loathing that this is how you find out your love wasn’t unrequited. “Why did you push me away?” 

“I didn’t—I didn’t mean to…” He turns, unable to handle the loud silence streaming from your bones. Voice shaken, he flounders, “I don’t know. I’ve—” 

When he pauses, it’s to keep his lips from shaking. You just know it. 

“I’ve regretted it every day since.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“I have!”

“Really. So all those texts you never sent were full of regret, too, huh?” 

“No, I—”

“All those calls you never made.” 

“I wanted to call!”

“You wanted nothing to do with me!”

“No! That’s not true—”

“Liar!”

He digs palms into the soaking divots of his face, tense at all angles and making you so, so angry that this is what the both of you have come to. 

“I’m not lying!”

“You are!”

You thought it would feel better seeing him cry. 

But it’s not, it’s not, it’s not. You hate this. 

Because Jungkook made sure your tears were short-lived. Made sure to chase them away every single time—

There’s a rapid twist of your locked doorknob before you hear a shout,

“What the hell’s going on in there!”

Shit, your brother. Were you both yelling? 

…Were you both that loud?

“We’re fine!” you shout back, embarrassed that your fight somehow managed to outperform the aux. “It’s okay.”

“Open up.”

“No.”

“You better be serious—”

“Promise!” You spare a look at your door. “We’re okay.” 

“…Okay.”

Even though it’s completely silent.

You know damn well he hasn’t left. 

Fuck, he can’t hear the rest of this. He shouldn’t have heard any of it in the first place, and you can feel the sear of his questions flaring up later tonight. 

Which, you are fine answering when it’s just the two of you. But you cannot have anyone hovering right now so you go to rip the door open and tell him off, 

“Dude, I said I’m—”

Oh, fuck.

Yoongi’s right there with him.

And your heart fucking lurches.

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tbc. :’))) 

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ahh how do we feel !! 💌 would you like to buy me a 🍊?

A/N: soooooo here you go before i continue with the rest of vacay!! LMAOO wouldn’t it be so funny if the whole chapter drops by surprise like y’all are wanting it to? just like this? wild.... A/N 2: always always gonna thank everyone that’s reading and supporting the series! there’s gonna be a lot happening in this chapter just like forfeit, so note-taking or bulletpoint format while reading might be a thing again if you wanna be able to remember things.. ahaha. pls give me strength bc i need it T^T  ++ more links: ⇥ three tangerines masterlist  ⇥ 18+ only taglist!  ⇥ masterlist 

[levanterhaze]

✧ BLUE FLAME WITH JUNGKOOK ✧

→ jungkook x reader

→ word count: 2.6k

→ your noisy neighbor has been disturbing your nights, so you decide to take satisfaction. however, there is a fine line between satisfaction and pleasure.

→ warnings: masturbation, penetration, protected sex, lot of swearing, dirty talk and sloppy sex if you're not +18 please do NOT read. (i decided to write this after watching those 2 episodes of the sex life of college girls)

It was 10:54 PM.

It was the exact moment where it all began. First, there were the grunts and soft moans, then came the screams and the relentless clatter of the headboard banging the wall. And you were fed up with it.

Every night your neighbor would get some girl and end up disturbing your night's sleep. And it was derailed how the screams progressed further and further, being able to wake up the entire building. You wondered how they managed to be so loud. It was nasty.

But today was your day off. You were curled up on your comforter in your comfiest pajamas, watching a 90s rom-com and eating an extra greasy pizza when your sex maniac neighbor started the bedlam.

And every time you tried to be friendly, not caring too much about other people's sex lives, it was impossible to hear any line from the movie with that girl screaming her lungs out on the other side of the wall.

Yes, yes, Jungkook!

Oh my god, Jungkook!

At some point, you were starting to think that this guy must be a sex god so that all girls act the same way, always, all of them. Or they just faked it every time, which to be honest, was a bit suspicious.

The headboard slamming on the wall was so loud that you had to move your bed to stop yours from swaying too. Damn thin wall. The screams continued and it seemed that the girl was coming to an exquisite and long orgasm.

You walked up to the wall and threw two punches as if they’d hear over all those moans. “Can you be fucking quiet? Jesus."

Realizing you weren't going to be able to finish your precious movie, you just decided you'd better grab a coat and change and go for a long walk until the whole thing is over.

The next morning you heard giggles coming from the hallway and guessed the neighbor's girl was leaving. It was nearly seven in the morning, the time for you to go to the gym before work. Lucky that your condo has a private gym that residents could access for free.

No one was using it at the time, so you took the opportunity to do your routine exercises. Until a slender figure, dressed all in black and tattoos, appeared in your peripheral. You knew it was him, your neighbor. You happened to see him coming into his apartment the other day.

But dammit, he was really…attractive?

He gave a gentle good morning grin, revealing his lip piercing.

Jesus Christ.

You did the same, out of politeness. However, it was the ideal time to go up to him and finally tell him that he was bothering all your nights with that insane sex screaming that came from his house. You schemed how you would say it, as it's not a very nice subject and you had no other way of saying it than directly.

Jungkook was choosing some music on his phone when you slowly approached.

"Hey. You're Jungkook, right? I'm your neighbor."

"Hey. I know."

Does he know? All right, whatever.

“Look, I don't know how to say this properly, so I'll just say it. You are very noisy. Look, I understand that you love sex and you do it constantly but the wall is really, really thin. So I would really appreciate it if you could… You know…?”

You had no idea how your face felt, but you could feel the burning in your cheeks and the extreme sweat on your hands. You hate being put in uncomfortable situations where you have to step out of your comfort zone and deal with unpleasant things.

But that was a problem that needed to be settled.

Jungkook's lips draw a thin line as he bit back a smile, you can tell.

“Oh, okay. Can you lend me your phone?”

You blink a few times, wondering if you've misunderstood.

"Sorry?"

"Your number. That way you can let me know if I'm too loud."

He can't be serious.

You realize then that he is indeed being sincere when he reaches out for your phone. And you just hand him the device, being slightly distracted by the dozen drawings painted over his arm muscles.

“Thanks, I guess.” You hold the phone back and try to ignore his glare and that slutty smile that spreads across his lips when you drift away.

Almost two weeks passed and, incredible as it may seem, your neighbor seemed to have come to reality, because the insane noises had ceased for good. And you were even a little surprised, for a person who did that every day, going almost fifteen days without having sex, it seemed like a grand slam.

It was late at night and you were exhausted after working an eight-hour shift. Your friend had called to share some news about a date she had gone on extremely badly.

Until your nightmare started again.

"What the fuck? Are you watching porn while talking to me?” Your friend's voice was grossed out.

“It's my stupid neighbor. I swear to god, he’s a sex maniac. This is not normal."

"At least he is hot?" Your friend asks and you think too quickly about those muscles pressed by the black shirt. Thick, well-defined thighs in the shorts he'd been wearing to the gym. The broad shoulders… “Never mind. What will you do?"

“I'm going to stop him or call the police or something. I'll be right back, I'll call you later."

"Good luck."

"Thanks. I'll need it."

This time you were determined to make a fuss if possible. You could hear his groans from behind the wall and it was insane. You just wanted to close your eyes and go to sleep, without having to think about your extremely hot neighbor having sex right next to you.

You put on a robe and left the house. There were two loud knocks on the door and a long wait for Jungkook to answer the door. And honestly, you wish you hadn't. Because he looked like a Greek god with his long hair falling into his eyes, his shirt a little open, and his sweatpants hanging awkwardly on narrow hips.

Right. Focus. You're here for a reason.

“Good night, neighbor.” He beams sweetly, exposing the piercing, and you almost gulp strongly because he's too good-looking to be true.

“You’re doing it again.”

"Doing what?" He frowns, pretending to be baffled.

"You know very well." You point the finger at him. “I just want you to tell your friend to be quieter.I just want to sleep.”

“So I disturbed your sleep?”

"Yeah."

"Yeah?" He tongues his cheeks. “And what are you going to do about it?”

You didn't want to admit it, but an absurd heat rose in your body, spreading mainly between your legs.

“I could call the cops.” You cross your arms, trying to dismiss the flaming feeling in your body.

“Sounds like a plan.” He smiles and then looks over his shoulder. “Or you could come in.”

"In your house? With someone in there? Why on earth would I do that?”

Jungkook scowls, this time really looking stumped.

“There’s no one here.”

Oh.

Oh.

He seems to be amused by his accomplishment. “I should go back and…”

“I have good wine. You look tense. And I owe you an apology.”

OK. Wine sounds good. And you really were tense and it was because of him. And he really owed you an apology. You analyzed the situation for a few seconds before deciding that it was okay. If he really wanted to apologize, you could at least listen to him, that wouldn't hurt.

The interior of Jungkook's apartment was very clean and tidy. He appeared a few seconds later with two glasses of wine and indicated the sofa so you could both sit down. Inside, you were feeling a little bad because he was alone and the sounds you heard… That was a little too intimate.

"Then. Wine. Now the apologies.”

He drinks down his wine and then looks at you curiously.

“You missed something.” Jungkook stares at you earnestly. “You’re still tense.”

You gulp down the wine quickly, trying to disguise how sweaty you were by the way his eyes stared at you. "I’m fine. Thanks for the wine. I really need to go.” You get up quickly, but Jungkook follows you to the door.

“Or you could stay.”

He leaves the glass on the table and approaches slowly. You try to focus on his face and not that sinewy body walking towards you.

"And why would I do that?" Your voice comes out as a tired whisper.

Jungkook moves even closer and you shudder as you feel his warm breath blow over your skin. “Because you’re also disturbing my sleep.”

Fuck.

Your breathing is so shallow it's embarrassing. Your heart beats a mile a minute in your chest and you know he's noticed how much you're giving in to his charm, like magnetism. And the wine seems to loosen you up, untying all the tangles that bound your body, taking the tension out of every muscle at once.

And you feel so vulnerable. Your body is craving for his touch because your mind wanders on outrageous thoughts of Jungkook thinking about you while… It's crazy. You've always been so tired, not enough time to have a good night of casual sex, that maybe you could enjoy it. Just once.

You throw your sanity to hell and grab Jungkook's face just to kiss him. His arms envelop you deliciously and the world seems to burn with a burning desire in a blue flame. His lips are greasy and he tastes divine, the wine mixing with his essence so deliciously that you wail into his lips.

He helps you out of your robe and you can see it in the dim light as his pupils dilate at the sight of that stupid skimp nightgown, you're wearing. His hands are agile and large and you gasp as his thumbs graze the sides of your breasts and his body pushes you to the edge of the table. Jungkook slides between your legs, cupping your face and moving his lips down to your chin and then your neck.

“Jungkook…” You roll your eyes as his tongue wriggles across your skin, painfully crawling to your throbbing spot.

“Wanna taste you.” He whispers into your skin. “Wanna feel you so bad, baby. Fuck."

And you don't look out for the fact that your legs are parted so he would do anything to you. You were already sure you were past the shame stage and the alcohol was helping that aspect.

He continues kissing your skin as he squeezes your thigh and lifts the narrow fabric of your nightie to your waist. You hold back a loud sob when he touches you right where you want him. Then, Jungkook groans into your skin. “You're dripping. God."

And that was embarrassing, but what the hell. He shoves the fabric aside and you clasp the cloth of his shirt as his skin makes contact with yours. Jungkook looks at you, your brows are wrinkled and your lips are parted. It's quite a sight. He thrusts his fingers inside you, enjoying how easy it’s to slide inside you.

"Shit." You pull him closer. You spread your legs even wider, feeling your body gain immediate weakness. He touches you so unhurriedly as if he wants to see you suffer and it's nice and painful at the same time. "More."

“Need more?” He reaches until there’s no space left. And as much as he's fascinated by the sight of your pussy taking his fingers so hungrily, it's your face he focuses on. He kisses you clumsily, licks you, and sucks on your lips like he's starved for it. And he was. For you.

Your forehead sticks to his chest, hiding the rest with every eye roll. You drag him tight by his shirt, biting your lip to keep from moaning the loudest you've ever wanted to moan in your life. “Jungkook.” A restrained groan escapes your lips.

"I want to hear from you." He slows down and you look up in disbelief. “Let me hear you.”

“Please…” You plead softly, but he ignores it. Shit. "Harder, please!" Your voice comes out much stronger and he does exactly what you ask.

With his mouth, he trails kisses to your breasts and tugs at the fabric with his teeth until it falls gracefully across your shoulders, exposing your rawest skin. And his tongue devours you. He plays with your breasts, nibbles on your skin, and drives you wild.

You're almost there, your hips undulating quickly to maintain more touch.

You wanted more. You need more.

“Jungkook.” And he seems to understand your darkest desires because he pulls out a condom from God knows where and you're not surprised to see how hard he is, ready to ruin you.

Your feet are on the edge of the table and he's flattening your stomach, making you lie down.

“Shit, you’re so fucking hot.” He caresses his cock with one hand and your clit with the other, in equal rhythms. Your back arches with delectable friction and you think you're going to come right then and there, but he amazes you when he enters you. “So damn good for me.”

"My God!" You cry involuntarily and make your body shake.

His hand is pressing down on your stomach, but he's still touching your sore clit with his thumb, very slowly. He looks for your eyes to see if he can go faster and you don't hesitate to approve immediately.

He moves like a god. Hips crushing your skin, the sound of skin hitting skin. Nimble fingers traveling over your breasts. Your leg going up on his shoulders. Jungkook's long hair is damp and falling over his forehead. The tattooed arm presses you deliciously. It all felt like a lucid dream.

His whines are melodic and it makes you even more turned on knowing that he’s worshiping every moment of it just as you are. He hammers his hips harder, teeth clamping down on his lip until the skin’s whitened. There's a small crease in his forehead and you feel he's as close as you are.

You move your hips against him as much as possible, feeling that intense fire burns every cell, every inch of your body from the inside out.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Jungkook cries, squeezing the edge of the table tightly as he lunges faster and faster, barely able to withstand the clench of your pussy on his cock

“I’m gonna…” You swallow hard, your voice cracking.

"I got you. Cum for me.”

And like magic words, your body convulses underneath Jungkook's body. Orgasm hits you hard, arching your back and melting your brain to jell-o. Jungkook lays down, licking your neck and then smooching your lips, making you devour erotic mutters in a hot, slippery kiss. He groans huskily and pleasurably in your ear and you pull his hair once more, just to end the kiss.

You're both sweaty and out of breath. He's still up and inside you. He is everywhere. The hickeys on your skin, the marks on your body, and the electrifying orgasm he just gave you.

“So…” Jungkook lifts his head, brushing the hair past your face. "Wine. You’re no longer tense. Do I still owe you an apology?”

You stare into those doe eyes and a laugh reverberates in your chest.

“I think we're good.”

[lacedupforyou]

Part two of the yandere u-20 team please :DD

" 𝕆𝕦𝕣𝕤" Yandere Japan U-20 Pt.2

~ This is a part 2! Check out part 1 here! ~

After a weeks of total chaos, Filled with surprises. You were exhausted, mentally and physically. Spending the days being dragged to do things and spend time with the team members. You spent hours with Miroku analyzing Buddhist texts, He loved how you listened and praised his spiritual abilities and sometimes his physical abilities. Just to be dragged away by Teru, asking you to watch him play and his tricks. Sendo butting in and bragging how he was the ace and that you should watch him play. To always keep your eyes on him when he plays. Because he plays for you.

They adored when you would help them with their hair, Hayate and Itsuki were blushing messes when you parted their hair or combed it. When you ran your fingers through it... God they wanted to grab you there and kiss you until you begged for breath.

Of course you have a life outside all of this, Friends...Family..Loved ones. One day you had came into work with what looked like..Some ring? Perhaps just jewelry..But you looked so happy..? Had one of the players beat the other to slipping a ring on your finger..? Teppei wasted not time asking you about it in front of everyone. You explained that it was a promise ring! How you had been in love and that you were promising yourself to some guy.

Their faces were all neutral with slight boredom, Like square one. You just smiled and walked off to fill out more due papers. Oliver turned around walked to the nearest wall and drove his fist into it. Leaving cracks and a hole. Everyone in the team knew they had to do something about it. Nio was fuming the whole time, Some guy comes in and slips a ring on your finger? Hell no. Hell no. Through some cyber stalking Mostly done by Cho and Hayate due to their calm and collected nature and narrowing it down, They found the guy.

They were famous athletes, If they wanted something they were going to get it. And in a blink of an eye, Your beloved had to leave the country for..Unknown reasons. You were devastated, Just a small note with a lousy goodbye. You didn't come into work that day, You stayed in bed between sobs and small naps. Your hair was messy and you were only half dressed. With some small shorts and a small top hung over your shoulder. You didn't care, You had no motivation to do anything.

You heard a loud knock at the door and you slowly walked tot he door. Just to be greeted by teppei! Your eyes lit up in a special kind of way. His smile dropped a little to see your condition. The way you looked so drained because of some nobody.. You enjoyed the moment to see him just to notice Teru in your peripheral vision bolting towards you again suffocating you in a hug. For more and more members to grab you and inhale that smell of yours. While some stood back and admired you.

You noticed some of them glancing at your clothing and you hurried away to change into something more fitting. They were all in their U-20 jackets and pants. You fit yourself into some casual's quickly and rushed into your bathroom mirror to get your hair together, You noticed Hayate walking towards you and standing behind you so close. His large figure towering over you behind him. "Do you need any help..With your hair?" You nodded and he did his best to fix it up. To feel your hair between his fingers was incredible. The others watching with a slight glare.

They had taken you out to dinner and karaoke and it was lovely. Most of you didn't have any liquor but the room was spinning and everyone started to get blurry. You stopped for a moment. You were sweating and you felt exhausted. Everyone just seemed to stare at you worry written on their faces. You collapsed from exhaustion and Sendo caught you in his arms. "It's fine, Just tired we should get 'em home." They took you home and laid you down softly. Watching you sleep. Itsuki tucked you in sweetly but they didn't leave. Seeing your chest rise up and down.. You were hypnotizing to them..They weren't going to let you give up. You belong to them. They're going to be taking very, very, very good care of you no matter what you say or do.

[multifandomlover01]

The Seduction of One Spencer Reid

For cmkinkbingo2024

Square filled: Virginity/Celibacy

Season 1!Spencer Reid x reader (not afab specific?)

WC: 2654

Warnings: 18+ MDNI - sexual themes - sexualization of virginity, sxualization of Spencer, sexualization of Spencer’s virginity, discussion of virginity (and later sex is discussed), flirting (including touching), attempt to seduce him (which is successful), maybe reader is a little too pushy, Spencer may be a bit uncomfortable, naked people touching, kissing each other

Summary: reader suspects Spencer is a virgin and seeks to be the first woman who beds him

Gif cred: heartsloving

(Gif accurate to season 1 timeline placement)

Spencer had to be a virgin. He just had to be (or at least that’s what you figured). Sure, he probably knew about sex, he read so much it was impossible for him to know nothing. But you doubted that he had any actual sexual experience so far.

The poor bastard was cursed with being painfully pretty but also just as painfully shy. He couldn’t flirt successfully with a girl if his life depended on it. Luckily for him and for you…he didn’t have to. You’d already set your sights on him. All you had to do was seduce him (something you were expecting was not going to be very hard to do).

One day, you wore a blouse that accentuated your breasts and unbuttoned a couple of buttons. You also wore a bra that covered your breasts (less) at a lower point than the ones you usually did. You also wore slacks that fit you just right.

You were usually fairly modest or conservative in your work wear (as that’s what was expected of you). You hoped Hotch or Gideon (or Morgan) would not say anything about it. You wore this for Spencer and Spencer alone. You had been very subtly flirting with him up until this point. You didn’t want to scare him off so you knew you couldn’t do too much. All you’d done so far was smile at him a lot, listen intently and engage with him even more so than usual when he rambled.

You could tell he liked you. You were nice and kind to him. You listened to him when he talked, you complimented him. You two naturally got along very well. So knowing he already liked you, you knew the blouse and slacks would catch his attention.

And indeed they did. As soon as you walked into the bullpen, his eyes lifted from his desk to look at you. He immediately averted his gaze before glancing back at you every so often. You made sure to deny him your attention right now as you made your way to your desk. But you could tell from your peripheral vision that his eyes stayed on you.

You smirked slightly as you sat down at your desk. Tomorrow, you thought, you’d wear a skirt or maybe even a dress. That would really get to him.

In the kitchen area getting coffee, he noticeably stiffens when you slide up next to him. He does not meet your eyes as you reach for your mug in the cabinet. He is looking down at his own, trying not to stare.

“Good morning.” You greet him with a smile as you go to make your cup of coffee (he’d already made his and was putting sugar in it).

“M-Morning.” He smiled back as he nodded.

“You have enough sugar there?” You chuckle as you point to his mug.

“What? Oh!” He looks down. He’d been so distracted by you that he’d put way too much in (even more than he usually did).

“How are you this morning?” You ask as you take the sugar from him to use yourself. Your fingers brush against his hand as you take it from him. If his cheeks were tinged pink before, they were definitely flushed now. You think he looks very cute.

He hasn’t answered your question yet. He’d just been staring dumbfounded at you. His gaze drifts from your face to your neck and finally to your chest. You aren’t showing a whole lot of cleavage but it’s definitely more than you usually show. And it’s absolutely having the desired effect.

“Spencer.” You say in a sing-song voice. “Are you gonna answer my question?”

“I’m sorry, what?” He blinks a few times as he refocused on your eyes. Which he’d gotten lost in more than once so maybe trying to focus on them wasn’t the best idea.

“I asked you a question. You haven’t answered it.” You smile as you tilt your head.

“Oh I uh um…I’m sorry. Wh-what was the question?”

“I asked you how you were this morning.”

“Oh um…good. I’m good.” He smiles and nods.

“Yeah? That’s good.” You smile back at him. “You look a little flushed. Are you feeling ok?”

“Hmm? Oh uh y-yeah…I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” You take a step forward.

He takes a step back. You take another step forward. He takes another step back but hits the wall.

“I just wanna check your forehead, silly. What’re you running away from, hmm?” You tease lightly as you grasp his wrist lightly in one hand while you raise your other hand to his forehead, feeling it and then his cheeks.

“Why…you are a bit warm. Are you sure you’re feeling well?” You ask, slightly feigning concern as you squeeze his wrist a bit, caress his cheek with the back of your hand and press him into the wall just a bit.

He nods. “Um…mhm. I’m sure.” He says softly as he looks into your eyes, his voice wavering a bit. He’s trying to see why you’re acting the way you are. After all, you’ve never gotten…this close to him before. He’s sure you can hear his heart thumping in his chest (your chest is practically pressed against him). He knows you can feel how warm he is and he wonders if you can also feel the thin layer of sweat that’s appeared on his face and neck.

You lean in just a bit closer to him. “You’re sweating too.” You whisper softly.

“I-I’m fine, I swear!” He stammers.

“I don’t think you are. You’ve either got a fever or a woman you’re not related to has never been this close to you before.”

“What? I’ve uh I’ve been close to…to a woman before.” He chuckled awkwardly.

“No.” You shake your head. “You haven’t.”

“Yes I have.” He insists.

“If you had…you wouldn’t be so flushed and sweating. If you feel fine and have no fever…are you nervous, then? Having a woman so close to you? Does it excite you?” You raise a hand and trail a finger down his nose, tapping it once you get to the end.

“I…I don’t really think this is the right place for this.” His gaze was on your hand before it flirts back to your eyes.

“But you like it? Me being this close to you?” You look back into his eyes, voice still soft.

He nods. “Mhm…I do. A…A lot, actually.”

“Good. Now…how would you feel if I wore a maxi skirt or a dress tomorrow, hmm?”

“Oh, I’d…I’d love that.” He chuckles, smiling. “You’re gonna look so…so um…beautiful. N-not that you don’t now or that you don’t always because you definitely do.”

“You think that I’d ever think you’d think I was ugly? You’re far too much of a gentleman to think that about a female coworker. You definitely wouldn’t say it even if you thought it.”

“I…I don’t think it. I think…that you’re…very beautiful and I really can’t believe that you’re um…so close to me.”

“Yeah? You think I’m beautiful.”

“Very.”

“How does it feel to have a very beautiful woman so close to you, Spencer?” You whisper, your warm breath fanning across his face.

“Exciting…like you said. E-Especially considering we’re at work. I never understood the thrill of doing things in public that I’ve heard and read people have but now I uh I think I get it.”

“You silly goose…I’m not going to do anything to you here. That comes later.” You wink at him.

“L-Later?” He furrowed his eyebrows. “Wh-what comes…later?”

“Don’t you know…genius?” You tease lightly. “Don’t you read?”

“Of course I read. I just…you can’t be…implying what I think you’re implying.”

“Oh? Why can’t I?”

He looks into your eyes for a few seconds and sees that you’re sincere.

“You’d really want…that with me?”

“Of course I would. You’re kind, sweet, handsome. Why wouldn’t I want to do that with you?” You raise a hand again to trail a finger over his cheek.

“Well it’s just I uh I’ve never…” he trails off as he averts his gaze.

“Never…what?”

“Never…you know…”

“You’ve never…been with a woman before?”

“No. I haven’t. My teen years were not spent amongst people of my age.”

“You were amongst people older than you.”

“A 12 year old amongst 16, 17, and 18 year olds isn’t the best environment for a healthy sexual development.”

“And a 14 year old amongst college aged students didn’t help either, I’m guessing.”

“No. It didn’t. I’m 24 now, a working adult and still I’ve never…” he frowns.

“Hey, that’s ok.” You caress his cheek with the back of your hand. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I promise.”

“Really?” His eyes started to water slightly.

“Yes, really. When do you think I lost mine, hmm?”

“Oh I uh I dunno. That seems…rude to speculate about.”

You chuckle. “You’re sweet. But I’m asking you now. It’s ok to answer.” You assure him.

“Well…based on the average…17?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

“Younger?” His eyebrows lift.

You chuckle again. “No. Older.”

“18?” He ups it one year.

“No.” You shake your head.

“21?” He ups it two years.

“No again.” You smile.

“When, then?”

“When I was 24.”

“Really?” He seems genuinely surprised. “Wow…I would’ve guessed sooner.”

“Oh? Why is that?” You tilt your head.

“Well it’s just…you’re such a beautiful woman, I would’ve thought that you’d have lost it earlier.”

“Well I didn’t.” You shrug.

“May I ask…why?”

“Maybe I was just waiting for the right time…the right guy.”

“And was it?”

“No.” You shake your head. “It wasn’t, unfortunately. I’m still waiting for that special someone. Because he most certainly wasn’t it.”

“Oh…well I’m sorry. You um…you deserve someone who appreciates you and will treat you right.”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“That’s a good point. Everyone does. But my point was…that I’d treat you right.”

“I know that, love.” You caress his cheek with the backs of two of your fingers.

“I’ve never really been in a relationship with a woman before but…I’d be honored if I was able to be with you.”

“Do you want to be?” You ask curiously.

He swallowed thickly. “Honestly? Yes. I’ve thought about…what it would be like…to be with you.”

“Really? You have?” You smile at him.

“Yes.” He nods. “Is that…weird?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t think so. I’ve thought the same, actually.”

“Really? You have?” He smiles back at you.

“Mhm.” You nod. “I have.”

“So…you’d entertain the thought of being with me?”

“I’ll do more than that.”

“Even if I’m not…experienced.”

“Especially because you’re inexperienced. I want to be your first. I want to see you experience pleasure by a woman’s hand for the first time. I want it to be by my hand.”

“Oh…I’d love that very much. Thank you.” He chuckled softly as he smiled.

“Don’t worry…you’ll be in very capable hands, dear.”

“I…don’t doubt that.”

“So…you’ll let me be your first?”

“Absolutely.” His eyes sparkle with affection.

-

And so that’s how you found yourself naked on Spencer’s bed with his hands on your waist. He was holding you so gently. It makes you chuckle.

“You don’t have to be so scared. I’m not going to break very easily.” You smile at him.

“I know that. But I just think that my first time with a woman should be…gentle.”

“I shouldn’t expect anything else from you, I suppose.” You raise a hand to touch his cheek with the back of it.

“Is that…disappointing?”

“Just because something is predictable, that doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s disappointing.” You caress his cheek with the back of your hand. “Sometimes you’re disappointed if what you expect to happen doesn’t.”

“And what do you expect to happen?” He asks you softly.

“Sex.” You shrug.

“But what if I’m…bad?”

“You won’t be. I promise. My only expectation is that you be you. After all…you don’t know how to be anyone else, right? Nor should you feel the need to be.”

“So I just have to…be myself?”

“That’s all. I promise.”

“Ok…good. That makes me feel a lot better.”

“Good. That was the intention. You don’t need to be so nervous, ok? I promise that you are enough as you are.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

“So um…what do we do now?”

“Well…” your hands run up his chest. “Now…we make love to each other. Now you get to feel a woman touch you…intimately…for the very first time.”

Your hands run over his neck.

“Oh yes please. I’d like that very much.”

“Alright then, hon.”

You lean in to press a kiss to his cheek. Spencer’s eyes fluttered closed and he exhaled softly. “Oh…”

You continue to press soft kisses to his face. “Mmm…you like that, Spence?”

“I love it. You’re being…so sweet.”

“What’d you expect? That I’d immediately jump on you in a frenzied act of passion?” You chuckle.

“I dunno…maybe…” He murmurs.

“Have you been reading too many shitty romance novels, perhaps? Those things aren’t realistic in the slightest. You have to take your time, go slow. Trust me. It lets things build up.”

“I don’t think…that I’ll need very much build up.” He murmurs.

“Hey. That’s ok. As long as it’s enjoyable for the both of us. Oh, that’s another thing…don’t worry too much about well um…getting each other off, ok? That’s not the most important thing, you know.”

“But I thought…that was the goal.” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“You wanna know a secret?” You whisper softly, your warm breath fanning against his face.

He nods. “Anything that would help me understand.”

“The goal should be connecting and bonding with your partner.”

He contemplates this. “I suppose…that that makes sense. Chemicals and hormones produced and released during sex can help bring about a sense of connection.”

“See? The science backs that up. While orgasms definitely can contribute to that feeling of connection…for your first time, I think it would be best to just focus on doing what makes each other feel good. I know that brilliant brain of yours will latch very hard onto the idea of giving me an orgasm and it could ruin the experience for us. I want your first time to be stress free.”

“Thank you…I really appreciate how…considerate you’re being.” He smiles.

“Mhm…now…how about we stop talking and start kissing.”

“I think that I’d like that very much.”

You press your lips to his, applying a bit of pressure but not too much so it wasn’t overwhelming to him. Even if you wanted to devour him, you needed to contain yourself. You needed to be considerate. You really did care about him and about making his first time a memorable one.

He presses into the kiss, his hands brushing up your waist, feeling the soft skin there. He had to contain himself as well. He wanted to explore every inch of your body. But he had to go slow. He didn’t want to ruin things by going too fast.

Your fingers grip his hair at the back of his neck. This causes him to shudder and whimper slightly. Your lips part slightly and your tongue pokes at the seam of his lips. He parts his lips and allows your tongue to enter his mouth and brush against his tongue.

Spencer would’ve thought that he’d be disgusted by having another person’s mouth on his like this…by having another person’s tongue pressed against his but his lustful need to feel you supersedes his aversion to such intimacy. He craves it. He craves you.

His hands grasp your sides. A moan from him is muffled by your mouth on his. The kiss breaks and you are both breathless (him more than you).

“Please…I need…more…” He rasps, his hot breath fanning against your lips.

“And you’ll get more…so much more, hon.” You thread your fingers through his hair. “Are you ready to lie with a woman for the first time?”

“Very much so, yes.”

“We…are going to have so much fun.”

[denaliwrites]

His Love is All in Me

Aziraphale x GN!Reader x Crowley

Summary: It's not every day you compete with a demon for the affections of an angel.

Soundtrack: The Boy is Mine by Brandy & Monica

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Jealousy. Unrequited Love. Choking. Crowley is a Dick.

Upon further reflection, maybe Crowley had been right to call you an interloper. Sure, you hadn't meant to intrude on the good thing he had with his angel that fateful, rainy evening in December when you'd first wandered into Aziraphale's shop. You also hadn't meant to steal the angel's attention. Hadn't meant to keep going back day after day. Hadn't meant to get attached.

But now here you were, deeply seated not just in a plush armchair in the angel's bookshop several months later, but also in the angel's life.

Which meant, for better or for worse, you were deeply seated in Crowley's life as well.

And he hated you.

He made it impossibly clear any time the two of you were alone, and though he pumped the brakes a little when Aziraphale was around, he didn't do much to hide it then either. You tried not to let it show, both for Aziraphale's peace of mind and so that Crowley wouldn't get the satisfaction of knowing he'd upset you... but it did weigh on you.

But no matter how much weight you can hold, eventually there's a point where it's too much and some (or all) of it goes tipping over.

Aziraphale was leaving for the weekend.

He said something about having to travel to the States to get a book he'd been after for years, darling. You were on board until he put you in charge of the shop. That would be... stressful. But manageable. And then Crowley walked in, and Aziraphale lit up, and told him that he was in charge too.

The glare Crowley sent you the moment the angel turned away made you want to wither and die.

Before he left, Aziraphale handed you a tray of freshly baked treats -- ones he knew you loved, your most favorite treats that you'd probably kill for.

"To remember me by," he said before leaving.

Once alone in the shop with Crowley, you threw him a wary glance. You wanted to say something -- anything -- but nothing came to mind. Nervously, you set the tray down on the table beside your usual chair before dipping behind the counter to grab the book you'd been reading.

You heard a snap, and when you looked back over, the tray of treats was on fire.

"Crowley!" you yelped, barely managing to set the book down before frantically looking for a fire extinguisher. There wasn't one -- somewhere in the logical part of your brain, you figured it was because the angel could just miracle a fire away. But that didn't help you, a mortal, right now.

"C-Crowley," you whimpered as you finally came to a halt, simply staring at the fire in defeat.

You looked up at the sound of another snap. You could see out of your peripheral that the fire was gone, but your main focus was on Crowley's infuriatingly smug expression.

It pained you to look away, but you forcefully pulled your expression off of him to look at the tray -- the fire had burned every single treat into inedible embers.

As you looked, some sound that vaguely resembled a laugh came out of Crowley, and you whipped around to glare at him.

"What is your FUCKING problem?!" you growled, storming up to him.

He easily could've overpowered you, killed you, done literally anything, but he let you slam him up into the nearest wall, let you press your arm to his throat. Not that he needed to breathe, but it was satisfying all the same.

"Ever since that first day you have had it out for me! I've been nothing but nice, and helpful, and accommodating to your stupid mood swings! What the fuck else can you possibly want from me, you fucking asshole!?"

"I want you gone," he replied simply.

Oh. On further reflection, you should've seen that coming.

"The angel doesn't love you. He can't. You're but a fleeting little infatuation -- a pet. The moment you start withering, start showing your cursed humanity, he'll lose interest."

"Why do you even care?" you asked exasperatedly. "You've had six thousand years with him and you'll have six thousand more, infinite times over. Why do you care if he's distracted for a few years out of eternity?"

"Because he's mine!" Crowley hissed. "He's my friend. My Angel."

"This whole fucking time," you said with a sigh. "This whole time I thought you hated me for a real reason -- but you were just jealous? This whole time, you only hated me because you can't stand the idea of Aziraphale liking anyone else."

Suddenly, the tables were flipped and you were the one pressed to the wall. Unlike Crowley, though, you did need air to breathe, and his hand was nearly crushing your throat.

"C-Crowley--" you wheezed desperately, but his hold didn't let up.

"Listen to me, you insolent little speck of insignificant cosmic shit," Crowley hissed above you, "I don't care about the angel's pointless dalliances with mortals. We blink and you're dead and it's like no time has passed at all."

You were getting lightheaded, delirious.

"What I care about is you humans stupidly worming your way into his heart, only for you to inevitably die and break it."

Just as suddenly as it was there, the pressure on your windpipe was gone, and your body collapsed and instinctively dragged in desperate gasping breaths.

Crowley watched you disdainfully as you sucked in breath after breath, until eventually you evened out.

"Th..." you tried to speak, but every few breaths one still came out as a gasp.

Crowley knelt before you, looking you over. His hand neared your face and you jerked away, yet he persisted. You were surprised when the touch that landed on your chin was gentle. Limply, you let him tilt your chin up, giving him a view of your neck. A couple soft clicks of his tongue and a snap later, and your throat and lungs no longer burned.

"Wh-what did you--"

"I don't want you dead," he said with a sigh. "In fact, I'd much prefer you live a good, long life. Just... somewhere away from Aziraphale. And me."

You blinked up at him, before you let out a pained, wheezing laugh. "Y-you want me to live a 'good, long life'? You hate me!"

"You humans," he groused, looking around like some form of help might magically appear before him. "You're so -- smallminded. You don't get it."

"Get what?" you asked, voice suddenly weak. He looked genuinely worried, and that surprised you.

"You think that love and hate are mutually exclusive. Even when you love and hate something! Like -- like you. You love and hate romance novels. I've seen it! You love and hate them, and yet you cannot fathom the idea that I could love and hate humanity -- love and hate you."

"Sorry," you wheezed, "you love me?"

"Well -- hgk."

You laughed at the sound he made in the back of his throat, and yet again he surprised you. His lips actually pulled up, just a little, in response.

"Yeah, I do. In the way I love every other human," he said after a moment. "But I love you because Aziraphale does, too."

"Yet you want me gone?"

"Because I hate seeing his heart get broken."

"Some things are worth getting your heart broken for, Crowley."

His stunned blinks told you he'd never considered that.

"I know I'm not going to live forever. I know you two will outlive me by eternity. I'll spend the rest of my life with you, and for you, it'll be a second on the cosmic clock. Less, probably."

His eyes met yours, thoughtful, sad, considering.

"Don't you think it breaks my heart too, knowing I'll only get so much time with you before I'm gone? That I'll have to leave him behind, and he'll have to deal with that pain?"

"Then why stay?"

"Because I love him, and people do stupid things for love. Sometimes they do selfish things for it, too. And sometimes, the people involved are perfectly capable of making their own decisions and have considered the outcome and think that the pain they'll experience is worth it."

He looks away in shame, then.

"Aziraphale's not an idiot," you say, reaching out a hand to tilt Crowley's face towards you. "If he didn't want to feel that loss, he wouldn't keep getting attached to humans. But he sees something in us worth going through that pain for. Maybe instead of treating him like an infant who can't understand the consequences of his decisions, you should respect that -- like it or not -- he has his own reasons for doing things and he's more than capable of choosing to do them."

"I can see why he likes you, now," Crowley said softly, and you blinked. "You... hgk. He's fallen for many humans, but you may be the best of them."

Coming from him, that surprised you, but it also warmed your heart. "Oh, he does love me back?" you asked with a laugh.

"Oh, yes," Crowley sighed dramatically. "Didn't understand why before but... now I do."

"And what about us?" you asked.

The sound that came out of that demon's mouth was -- well, it was something. Something that made you cackle.

"Us?" he finally managed, baffled.

"Yeah. Like. Are we okay? Are we cool? No more hating and trying to chase me off and stuff? Can we be civil?"

"Oh," he said, but you saw the moment the realization actually sank in. "Oh! Yes, yeah, we're fine. You're... you're good."

This made you smile. Without warning, you grabbed the demon and pulled him into a hug. "Maybe we can even be friends," you said, delighting in the way his body stiffened against yours.

"Oh, no, no -- I don't -- I don't do that -- that's the angel's thing --"

Despite Crowley's best attempts at insisting that he didn't befriend Aziraphale's "pets" and that he'd much rather stay as far from you as possible, when Aziraphale returned home at the end of the weekend he found the two of you in one of the armchairs -- Crowley's favorite, in fact. You were asleep with a book hanging limply and precariously from your hand. Crowley was... well, it was hard to tell, with his glasses on, but he had his body sprawled across yours, one leg thrown over the back of the chair and one laid over your lap in what Aziraphale would dare say was a protective gesture. He smiled, miracling a blanket over the two of you before he went about settling back into his home routine.

[telail]

☆ Go Where? [Crazy 4u] | YEOSANG

pairing: ateez k.y.s. x fem!reader tags: yandere, psycho boyfriend, poc friendly, established relationship wc: 914 warnings: language, threatening, weapons, yeosang is insane.

🎧- Arson by j-hope

note: "If i cant have you, no one can!" faceass masterlist

Yeosang was known for being quiet and calm. Never really being too keen on attention and always in his own world. You'd think he was harmless, his angelic face serving as a mask for his actual horrific thoughts and actions. He was far from what people who didn't know of him thought he was.

Yeosang had always made it clear that he was crazy since the beginning of your relationship without even having to say anything. His subtle actions and remarks definitely got a point across whether it was what he intended to do or not.

He was a man of his word and it was obvious that a lot of things he said he was deadass about. Yeosang was a blunt man with a very logical state of mind. He meant everything he said and at times it would scare you how he would just casually threaten you at times.

One night you and Yeosang had gotten into a heated argument, about him being overbearing at times and how you were tired of him intimidating anyone that got close to you. Which of course he retaliated against and one thing led to another and you were left packing your things as you cussed him out under your breath.

"You always tellin' me to fuckin' talk t'you and when I do this how you wanna act." You complained throwing anything you saw that was yours into the oversized suitcase. "TaLk T'mE anGeL" You mocked his previous words as you went into the bathroom to grab your tooth brush and a few other toiletries.

You were planning on staying at your best friend's place for a few days to give him a chance to get his shit together and for you to get some space and clear your head. Without him.

But the entire time you rambled on about the situation entirely Yeosang said nothing, having shut up the second he saw you start packing. He just stared blankly at the floor looking at nothing in particular seemingly zoned out or so you assumed.

His hands were placed between his legs as he leaned over and continued to stare at nothing.

"So you just gon' act like you don't hear me fuckin' talkin' to you? I hate when you do that shit-" Your ranting became background noise to him as he focused on your every move with his peripheral vision alone. Watching as you moved around the room knocking things over in the process in pure rage. Your words remained unheard until you decided you'd actually had enough of him tuning you out and made your way to the bedroom door.

"I should've been left your ass, you don't care about shit. I'll just go." You said sharply, your tone strong but he could hear the hurt in it.

You snatched your bags up and went to leave the bedroom going straight for the front door.

You grabbed your keys and went to reach for the doorknob before hearing a faint click noise from the bedroom.

You stilled completely your heart stopping as you literally froze in place, a million thoughts racing through your head as you tried to figure out if what you'd just heard was what you thought you just heard.

By the time you realized and decided to turn around Yeosang was already in front of you. Standing too close for comfort as he loomed over you, you looked up at him about to say something before the feeling of cold metal met the underside of your jaw.

His gun, the one he kept in the nightstand- the same gun he said he'd use to protect you is the one he's holding steadily under your chin right now, not saying a word as he silently threatened to end your shit.

"Go where?" he mumbled, his tone neutral as he stared holes into your soul. The subtle craze in his eyes hardly noticeable but there.

"Y-Yeo I-" You stuttered, genuinely scared for your life. You knew Yeosang was crazy but not this kind of crazy. This was an entire different ball game from what you thought he was like.

"Gonna leave me? Hmm?" He hummed, pushing the cold gun a little harder against your skin. "Take a single step out that fuckin' door and i'll blow your damn brains out." He whispered calmly, but his words sharp as he met your eyes before gently kissing your jawline and cheek as if he wasn't threatening your life.

"Unpack, and i'll run you a warm bath, calm your nerves a lil' yeah?" He said, a freak smirk making its way onto his face as he brushed a stray curl from your face with his gun.

You nodded, every word you had to say nowhere to be found as a single tear flowed down your cheek. You dropped your bags and let your arms hang limply on your sides as the tears began to flow one after another.

"Ssshh.. y'know how much I love you right? You can't just leave me angel.. nobody else is out there for you but me." Yeosang said, kissing the shell of your ear and wrapping his arms around you as he did so.

"Y-You're crazy." You choked out between tears, your head dropping into the crook of his neck.

He stayed silent, not responding to your remark immediately as he rubbed your back in comfort. After a few more seconds he finally spoke.

"Only when I need to be my love."

Excuse any mistakes. :P

[daydream-believin]

Like A Boiled Frog (You Don't Even Scream) [ch 1]

notes: might proofread this before i post this to ao3 but here have the raw milk version (pasteurization is for losers amaright)

series summary: every time you think things cant get any more batshit, hurricane throws another pile of guano at you. every time you think the hole cant get any deeper, you fall further. and you’re not sure what frightens you more: the town itself, or your increasing reluctance to leave.

or: au where mike has that pizza shop for wayyy more than a week and you find yourself a horror protagonist. or at least one’s love interest.

chapter summary: get haunted bitch. now go drive to utah in a manic episode. go meet a nice walking corpse, maybe it'll fix you. or make you worse. probably that second thing lmao

word count: 7985, oh dear (thats with me cutting out some stuff lol)

warnings: uh, swearing, manic behavior, self-harmful thoughts/behavior, mention of hallucinations/hearing voices, shit this is sounding bad, i mean its canon typical violence so idk man no lifeguard on duty

You know how in Source Decay, John Darnielle says / I wish the west Texas highway was a mobius strip / I could ride it out forever / when I feel my heart break? / Well, that guy’s a bitchass snake oil salesman for romanticizing this. Fuck that guy.

Although, this is the first time you’ve ever been able to set a cruise control and actually just leave it at that. What with there being no other cars on the road out here at this hour for you to run into. You even forgot about it at one point.

Little puffs of fire danced in your peripheral vision, like fairies flitting about. It was easy to spot them out in the night air, all those pumpjacks that littered the desert. There was nothing but these small fires, with the tiny, dotted additions of the glowing red eyes of windmills to light up the way for miles.

And you tried not to think about how if you broke down, no one would be around to find you. Every now and then you would startle at the shadowy specter of a tumbleweed crossing your path, but you were acutely aware of just how alone you were out here.

On that train of thought, your gaze fell to the passenger side, to the little bear toy you had buckled into a seatbelt like it was a person.

“Can you believe this, Fredbear?” you asked the inanimate object.

Fredbear did not answer, of course. Would be insane if he did, right?

Hmm …Why did part of you expect him to.

***

The august sun was beating down hot on your back as you walked home that day. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but it was only last week.

The neighborhood was as full of life as it always was. The kids running around in a game of tag, the teens playing basketball, and the adults walking their dogs. You could hear some faint music playing in the distance, most likely from the stage setup in the square downtown, not too far away.

There were many yard sales set up, it being the thing to do on a sunny Saturday afternoon like this. Despite your very strong instincts to rummage through all the boxes in these sales like a raccoon looking for dinner in a dumpster, you were broke, with no money to spare for impulse purchases on random junk. And thus, being a mature adult, you walked right past them.

That is, until a yard full of children’s toys caught your eye. One of your cousins’ kids was turning 6 in a few weeks. Might as well buy presents now before you forget again and have to rush to the store in a panic 8 minutes after the party had already started, sweat rolling down your back as you search the toy isle for something the birthday boy would like, while your phone keeps buzzing in your pocket nonstop because both your cousin is texting and your aunt is calling to ask where you’re at because you were the one who was supposed to be picking up the pizza.

 I mean, just a hypothetical scenario here.

You didn’t really find anything good as you dug through the bins of miscellaneous action figures and toy cars. As you could recall, the kid really liked Iron Man right now. And sharks. Alas, you found no Iron Mans or sharks in those bins.

The other table’s baskets were full of stuffed animals. You could maybe get lucky and find a stuffed shark in there. But stuffed animals are notorious for being hard to clean; and yard sale plushies sometimes come with more than just one new friend. You weren’t about to be the reason your cousin had to fumigate her house for bedbugs. Again. So, you decided to close this case for now and skedaddle on out of there.

You took another look back at the table as you walked away.

Well.. The toys you could see at the top of the bins did look like they were well taken care of… It couldn’t hurt to just look, right?

Yeah no. You found no sharks unfortunately. What you did find, however, was this funky little teddy bear wearing a top hat and bowtie.

A real character, that one. The bright gold fabric of its body made it stand out amongst the other toys. The smile stitched onto the bear gave it a weird, smug look. And you hadn’t seen a plushy with eyebrows before.

That being said, this thing’s aura was so... unsettling. You stared into its black eyes, that seemed to stare right back at you, with a strange feeling twisting in the pit of your stomach.

“You like that one, do ya?”

You almost jumped out of your skin when the old man running the sale spoke to you. You had Not heard him come up beside you like that. Creepy.

“Yeah, it’s…” you tried to think of a positive word, “very intriguing. Looks like it’s ready for a party.”

“My granddaughter called him Fredbear. Found him over in Utah, many years back. In a yard sale, just like this one,” he gently took the bear from you, and looked down at it wistfully, “My granddaughter..  liked how smartly dressed he was. A perfect guest for her tea parties. You were right about that…”

The old man stared at the doll for a little longer after the conversation faded. You felt extremely awkward now. Perhaps you really should have just left without unearthing this obvious sentimental piece.

“My grandchildren are no longer here with me,” you felt a little uncomfortable with how he phrased that, “so, I’ll tell you what. Promise me you’ll take care of him, and he’s yours. Free of charge.”

“Oh, I couldn’t. I’d be happy to pay for him, really,” you felt bad taking free stuff from the elderly.

“No,” he said with a tone of finality, placing the bear firmly into your hands, “the day’s almost over. I’d like to help this old friend move on. It’s time.”

Well that somehow was both sweet and foreboding at the same time.

So, you thanked the old man and started back on your walk home, Fredbear cradled in your arms. He waved goodbye to you. The grandfather, of course, not the teddy bear.

You probably aren’t going to wind up giving this one to your cousin’s son. There was something about it that told you not to. Maybe it was the way the old man talked about it. You felt compelled to take care of the plush yourself. Kind of like an honor thing. Or a pity thing.

It smelled a little funky. But that’s nothing a little TLC couldn’t handle. And some dish soap.

Maybe you were just. Feeling a bit childish lately. Too small and easily broken. Moved to tears by little things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Disregarded and treated like your fears weren’t real.

Deeply afraid.

Yeah, you’d give Fredbear a nice soak in the sink with a fun dish soap bubble bath. And maybe after that, you’ll both feel a little better.

You were alone in your apartment that night, as your roommate was always gone these days. And when you made your tea, you brought Fredbear a mug as well. A little tea party, for old time’s sake.

Looking back, maybe that was your first mistake.

***

Static rolled from your radio. You gave up on fiddling with it hours ago, but you’ve got nothing better to occupy your mind now.

You turned the knob absentmindedly, never really expecting to get anywhere. Or any signal, that is. A muffled country song here, the broken-up voice of a DJ there, nothing strong enough to stay for more than a few seconds. However, a few seconds of a clear transmission was all you really needed when you rolled past a certain signal.

“zZz-Hurricane—“

Now that was a word that got your attention. Not that you were anywhere near the coast at the moment. You know, unless the person reading this is looking to buy some oceanside property in Arizona. In that case feel free to slide into my DMs.

“zZZ-Peach Days! -Zz celebratio— zzZ-year—peaches peach—-ZzzZ-Heritage-zZ,” you let your gaze flicker downward, towards the dimly lit red text of the frequency number display as if that would provide some more insight.

And then suddenly, the fuzz was completely gone, as if you were near the tower itself,

“So Hurry On To Hurricane City!” the spokesman encouraged cheerfully. You could practically here the giant pageant smile in his voice as he delivered his slogan. This man was your friend, obviously. Then, however, his tone shifted as he closed the ad copy, “Because you know the party can’t start without you…”

You held your breath as the silence dragged out a few agonizing seconds, until “ZZZZZZZZ!!!”, in a jolt, the transmission went completely out. Explosively. You even flinched.

You stayed on the station for a good twenty minutes after that, waiting to see if you could hear anything again. You could feel your heart pound against your ribs until the terrifying feeling faded. There was nothing else but static, of course, and for so long you almost thought you must have imagined it. If not for the way those dull words repeated in your head, over and over.

THE PARTY CAN’T START WITHOUT YOU.

THE PARTY CAN’T START WITHOUT YOU.

THE PARTY CAN’T START WITHOUT YOU.

You hadn’t really had a destination in mind when you took off. No goal other than to get out of there as fast as you could manage. The idea of the West had been bouncing around your brain a lot lately, hence your current trajectory, but you really hadn’t had a clue where you were supposed to be going when you left.

I mean, you still didn’t have a destination. You had no clue what that advertisement was even about. Where they were even fucking talking about. Hurricane City?

Yet, somehow, you knew those words were meant for you. Not anyone else. you. There was a party and the party was waiting for you.

Guess you’d have to look for a map or something in town. Perhaps use the library computer. Man, you would regret throwing your phone into the lake in a fit of passion as you left town, but honestly, this is the longest you’ve known peace in quite some time. Just gonna have to live a little retro for a while. Not the worst thing in the world.

You’ll get a new one later, once you’ve settled in to… wherever you’re going. Whatever new home lies over that horizon for you, you guess.

The sun was breaching the beige skyline of sandy shrub brush as you finally rolled over the state line. You needed to eat. Your stomach growled loudly at just the thought. Funny. You hadn’t even thought about eating in the last.. twenty hours. Which means you should be absolutely shaking right now. Yeah, that’s why you’re shaking. That’s it. You’ll pull into the first diner you see.

You were hoping to at least be in Roswell for breakfast, but there was no way your body was going to be able to keep running if you waited that long. Looks like it’s just going to be the first place you come across.

Hopefully they don’t put green chilis in their pancakes or something.

That sounds insane but it’s an actual thing you’ve seen before in this state, trust. There are no laws nor gods when it comes to Hatch green chilis.

***

Your sleepy brain was not ready for the bell that rang as you walked through the door. Embarrassingly enough, the tinny noise startled you. You almost tripped, to be honest. Thankfully your wobbly Bambi legs held up as you managed to catch yourself.

The hostess wasn’t in sight as you awkwardly stood in the entrance, but there was a whole heap of noise coming from the kitchen.

“Hold on just a second, Sweetpea!” a voice called out to you.

Well, guess you’re holding on a second.

Your eyes scanned the top of the walls, perusing the vast cookie jar collection that the owner had accrued over the years. They were never dusted, despite being on shelves that lined the top of every wall in the tiny shack of a diner, and thus you could easily tell that a few new additions had been made. You know, because those cookie jars were way less filthy.

That’s gotta be a heath-code violation.

After you heard a bit of garbled yelling, the hostess rushed out to take her place in front of you. Smoothing down her polka-dotted apron, she grinned at you.

“Table for two?”

You blinked. It was too early in the morning for fully intelligent speech.

“Uh. No. Just me today. Thank you.”

Her big, bedazzled cat-eyeglasses fell a little farther down her nose as she scrunched her face in confusion, “alright then. Just the one of you today...”

She grabbed a paper menu as she led your shambling body to a table near the window. Which was shut away with ancient looking vinyl blinds that you were too afraid to open, lest they crumble and the cost of replacing them be put on your on tab.

She had already disappeared back into the kitchen by the time you got yourself in a seat. You glanced around the room. You weren’t the only patron here, as a few tables held a few bodies, but you were the only one without your face buried in a newspaper. And to be expected honestly, you were the youngest person in the room at seven in the morning.

The hostess, who was also the only waitress in this tiny local business, placed two glasses in front of you. The dull sound they made hitting the table drew you out of your revelry. There before you were two cups, a steaming mug of fresh coffee and a short glass of milk. You looked up in confusion.

“Don’t worry, it’s whole milk. Builds strong bones.”

That... wasn’t your concern.

You looked back at the cup in confusion and by the time you turned back, she had already moved on to the next table, refilling mugs and having loud banter with the other customers. Her regulars, by the sound of it. You felt too apathetic to try and call her over again.

You shrugged, to no one in particular, as you did not have a breakfast partner with you, despite the waitress’s insistence otherwise. Wait, was she mocking you? Eh, maybe it’s just supposed to be for the coffee. Nevertheless, you would not be drinking the milk, so you just left it there.

Despite the prevalence of the local newspaper in the room, there wasn’t a dispenser or anything at the front of the restaurant, like there usually is. As you drummed your fingers on the tablecloth, bored out of your mind, you kinda regretted throwing your phone in the lake a bit more. Maybe not the best of moves.

But hey, at least you aren’t constantly quelling the incessant buzzing you’d be hearing if you’d kept it.

You busied yourself stirring your coffee while you looked over the menu again, just for something to read. Of course, you were ordering a waffle. Because this was a diner, and, yeah, you do like waffles. And pancakes. And French toast. Doodoodoodoo can’t wait to get a mouthful.

That voice kept echoing in your mind. The party can’t start without you.

“More coffee, Babycakes?” the waitress snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Oh! Yeah, thank you,” you moved the mug to the edge of the table, closer to her, “Say… I know this is an out-of-pocket question, but have you heard anything about Hurricane City? Maybe something about peaches?”

“Oh!” she snapped her fingers, “You mean the Peach Days. It’s a little heritage festival they put on every summer in Hurricane, you know. It’s a hoot, my family makes a trip out there every few years or so for it. Not this time of course, clearly, since I’m here talkin’ to you and not in Utah—”

“In Utah?”

Of course, it was Fucking Utah again.

“I know it’s soundin’ far, but it’s only ‘bout a day’s drive from here. Two days if y’ain’t crazy about following an itinerary like my husband,” she brushed a hand over her apron before you lost her attention to the other customers, “I swear that man would plan out a schedule for every second of the day if he could…”

After she wandered off to go top off more mugs, you lamented the fact that you still hadn’t ordered yet. That’s what you get for being nosy about peach festivals, you suppose.

Thankfully though, soon enough you had your hearty breakfast and were back in front of the wheel, on your way to the friendly neighborhood Walmart. Where hopefully no cops or employees would bother you as you crashed in the parking lot.

You took Fredbear to the backseat with you for good luck. Maybe it was the gold color, or the fancy getup he had. Maybe you just needed a cuddle buddy to not feel so alone in this parking lot swarming with people.

Much to your disdain, it was now a bit into the morning hours, and the sun was fully up.

You had tried to find as shady a spot as possible, but it’s not exactly like trees grow in this biome. At least not naturally. Windbreak tree lines were definitely a thing, but those protected buildings people cared about, and this was a Walmart. Nothing around here but concrete, rocks spray painted blue, and cigarette butts.

So after tossing and turning in the bright blinding sunshine for way longer than you should have, and making promises to higher deities was proven to be unfruitful in your attempt to find some semblance of peace, you finally just had to admit defeat. And here by rescinding any aforementioned promises to higher powers.

You laid Fredbear back down on the seat and tucked him in with the blanket when you got back up. At least one of you could be cozy and well rested. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be you, however.

Well, it’s far from the first all-nighter you’ve pulled without having time to take a nap during the following day. Sleep deprivation isn’t real, silly. Teachers just made that up to scare you. It’ll be fine.

***

You know you never really realize how much we structure our lives around other humans until you take a drive through the middle of nowhere. How essential it is to have enough gas to make it to the next town. From town to town, your life becomes segments. Only within the eyesight of other humans are you ever safe. Only within the bounds of the settlement can your soul be settled.

Gas stations become oases. Which is the plural of oasis, apparently. Anyway, you start seeing them like mirages. Dingey, weather-worn gas pumps become as good as a sparkling illusion of precious water in the Sahara. The empty shells of buildings you passed by, long since forgotten, became like mausoleums in these graveyard towns. Villages. Hamlets. Mostly hamlets.

“Are we there yet?” a small and very annoyed voice called out.

You had just written it off as your imagination until you heard the noise of shuffling fabric. Normally your audio hallucinations aren’t that detailed. Paralyzed, you held your breath, not daring to make any noise that would distract your ears from hearing whoever, whatever, was in the back seat. Your mind went to stories of skinwalkers and misshapen monsters and hitch-hiking serial killers.

“… Are we there yet?” the voice repeated, admittedly sounding even smaller to you now.

Yep, that’s a real person alright. Or a real thing. Your eyes were probably bloodshot from the way you haven’t blinked this entire time, just staring straight ahead on the desert highway. Taking a deep, shaky breath to steady yourself, you turned down the rear-view mirror…

Christ almighty. You had a stowaway.

Your stomach turned immediately. God, come on now, don’t puke up what little you had on your stomach. You need that.

“Hey Buddy,” you tried to sound as friendly as you could, “What’s your name?”

Clad in a little striped shirt and cargo shorts, he started kicking his feet in impatience, which would be cute if it weren’t for this situation y’all are in, and the adrenaline pumping through your veins, “We’ve been in here forever,” he whined.

If this was a skinwalker, he was a pretty darn adorable one. And definitely not a hitch-hiking serial killer. At least you hoped. But no, this was a greater form of terror: responsibility.

“Haha, yeah, we have been in here really long, haven’t we? How long do you think we’ve been driving, can you tell me?”

When did you pick up this child. When you got gas in Gallup? Albuquerque? Dear lord, if he’s been in here since Roswell, you’re about to have the world’s biggest headache on your hands, both metaphorically and physically. But there’s no way he’s been in here for fucking 10 hours, right? right??

Okay, okay. Maybe you’re just a little panicky right now and not thinking straight. Maybe teachers hadn’t been making up sleep deprivation just to scare you after all. You have been purposely not drinking anything for the lack of available restrooms. People get dehydration hallucinations, right?

The boy just stared at you, blankly. Probably fully realizing you were a stranger and not whoever he thought you were. In lieu of answering you, he started fidgeting more with the toy bear you had had in the back. You really hoped that hadn’t been what lured him into your station wagon in the first place.

Don’t be getting shy on me now, kid.

You put your blinker on, ready to merge off the road and onto an incoming rest-stop that you thanked your lucky stars for.

“Honey, can you tell me what your phone number is?”

He looked up at you, finally tearing his attention from the bear, and you could see gears turning in his head.

“…435-555-1987?”

You repeated it back to him, and he nodded. Alright, time to find that payphone.

Said rest-stop payphone was thankfully near a picnic table so you could sit him down and be able to watch him carefully the whole time you made this call. Because judging by the fact this situation was happening at all, he was a slippery one.

You got out of the car and opened the back door, but he was hesitant to get out. Which, fair, you are a stranger trying to get him to a second location.

“What’s up, Bud?” you tried your hardest to not sound like a predator but boy was that a real nebulous idea, wasn’t it?

“Fredbear wants to come too,” he mutters.

“Well, sure then, let’s bring him, we’ll have a little picnic.” With no food, but hey, whatever lie it takes to get him sitting on that bench.

It was really cute the way the kid set the bear down on the table and positioned it like they were going to have a picnic together. When you find this kid’s parents, you’ll let him keep Fredbear. Toys like it when they’re given to new children, right? Wasn’t there a movie about that or something. Wincing at the grubbiness of the payphone, you reluctantly dialed the number.

“Hello, Jeff’s Pizza on Main St, are you ready to order?”

You closed your eyes, counting the seconds as you breathed in for 4 seconds, held it for 7, and released for 8.

“Hello? Are you there?”

“Yes!” you practically shouted into the receiver. So much for calming down, “please don’t hang up,” you pleaded.

“Listen, we don’t take solicitation,”

“No, uh, sorry. I’ve found a lost child who told me this was his number. Is the owner of this restaurant by chance frantically looking for their son?”

You heard some muffled conversation happening behind the phone, “Well, no, I don’t even have any kids… and I uh, am currently understaffed. Im the only one here.”

you cursed under your breath.

“Uh, alright, well…” you could tell this was getting really awkward for him.

“Could you tell me where y’all are, I’m unfamiliar with the area code,”

“Uh, Hurricane, Utah?”

… If you weren’t on the phone, you fucking swear you’d be screeching at the top of your lungs like a chimpanzee right now.

“Thank you, you know, just in case he’s just remembering an advertisement he’s seen or something,”

“Oh, okay,” there was a pause, “well I hope you find the parents or, whoever,”

“Thank you,” you’ll put him out of his misery and hang up.

“Are you sure that’s your number, Hon?”

“Uh-huh,”

“Why don’t you tell me it again, maybe I dialed it wrong,”

“435-5--” his face scrunched up in concentration, “435-555—I don’t know…”

You tried not to look visibly stressed at this answer.

“Do you know where you live?”

He moved the bears paws along with whatever little game he was playing, before looking up at you, head tilted in confusion, “Hurricane?”

Okay. Police time. If not for him, for you. The skinwalker possibility just went back up. Because, honestly, he had to have gotten in your car as a coyote or something. No way you wouldn’t’ve noticed a whole ass child entering your car.

“How does ice cream sound, huh Buddy?”

“I want ice cream!” he said hastily as if you’d change your mind if he hesitated.

“Ice cream it is then, but only if you’re good for me and the officers, okay? And tell them everything you can remember. You’re smart, right?”

“Uh-huh,”

“Great,” you smiled over clenched teeth.

After herding him back into the car, you had to take a moment to gently rest your head into the steering wheel. And it took everything within you to not smash said head into it. Or scream in agony. No, no, we mustn’t scare the child.

Tuba City wasn’t too far away. The police station was downtown, as most are. Luckily, across the street there was a paleteria with a courtyard area. The little guy got very excited when you got pulled into the parking space, so eh, what the hell, ice cream first. Maybe after a treat and some playtime in the courtyard he won’t be as wiggly and will be able to tell the cops what he knows about just where the hell he came from.

The noise of the bell chiming made you flinch as you two walked into the paleteria. You hadn’t thought you were that tightly wound right now but apparently you were wrong. The lady behind the counter greeted you warmly, and you responded in turn, trying to play it cool.

God, imagine if she got an off-vibe from you and the kid and called over the police from across the street before you even have a chance—

Deep breath. Okay. The kid you had started referring to in your head as just “Little Boy” was leaned against the display case, his breath fogging up the glass in front of him and probably leaving little handprints for the shopkeeper to clean later.

“I’m sorry about that,”

“That’s… Okay. What can I get you?” she seemed a little confused. Strange, but you brushed past it just as quickly as she did.

“Ah, what do we want?” you asked Little Boy.

He excitedly tugged on your pantleg and pointed to the popsicle he wanted, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. He doesn’t need to convince you, but you quickly realized you were not going to be able to say no to any else after this if he deployed the same cute begging look.

“One of those cute little Tweety Bird faces,” you pointed.

“Anything else?” she handed you the popsicle and you gingerly took it.

“Nah, that’s it” you were too nauseous to eat right now.

You paid, throwing the change into the tip jar, and turned to give Little Boy the popsicle she handed you.  The words caught in your throat as you looked down to find your pantleg absent of any tugging by any Little Boy. You quickly scanned the tiny paleteria. He was nowhere to be found, anywhere in the room.

“Uh, did you see where the kid went?” you tried not to sound too panicked.

She was taken aback, also quickly looking around the room to find no one, before shaking her head, “Did you have a kid with you?”

You furiously nodded in confusion,

“I’m sorry, then I didn’t see them,” she pointed to the glass door that led to the courtyard only a few feet away from y’all, “Try outside, maybe?”

You burst outside, searching the area in a panic, but you couldn’t see him anywhere. Not hidden in the tangle of the garden, not splashing around in the fountain, not at, under, on top of, or around any of the tables.

You went to call his name, but your voice caught in your throat when you realized you didn’t have a name to call. And.

And.

Something hit your shirt. A water droplet. You looked up into the clear, blinding blue sky. Your nerves tickled as another droplet ran down your cheek. Oh, you were crying. Huh.

You took the closet seat you could find, counting the things processed by your 5 senses. It’s all you could do to not start bawling for no reason. Maybe you’ll calm down and be able to think straight soon.

Why can’t you think straight? Everything feels so fuzzy.

You should be terrified, and in a way, you were. In your heart of hearts, you knew the truth: Little Boy wasn’t real. Or at least turned back into a coyote and ran off.

As you stared vacantly into the open air, you realized you still had a dripping popsicle in your hands. Supposedly “Tweety Bird” shaped, it just looked like a yellow skull missing its mandible bone to you. How fitting.

You pulled it to your mouth. Yum. Tasted like AAAAAAAA. Or orange, according to the package.

Attempting to lick the melted yellow liquid off of your hand, you accidentally stuck the ice pop on your face. Great. Now you’re sticky all over.

God, you’ve really gone and lost your fucking marbles this time, haven’t you.

There was a bulletin kiosk a few feet down your field of vision. On that bulletin kiosk was an old poster, barely visible as it was buried under layers of other flyers. It caught your eye and seemed to burn your retinas. What little you could see was the word Freddy and part of what looked like a version of the bear you’d been toting around this whole little expedition, but that was enough.

Something clicked. You looked down at the bear hanging by your side in your other hand. The kid had shoved it into your arms so he could more easily lean on the display case, right before he disappeared the very moment you took your eyes off of him.

You know, you hadn’t really felt alone since bringing Fredbear home. And not in a good way.

Guess the name you should’ve been calling was Freddy.

You had to get rid of that bear.

***

You had been walking home like you always did, same route. But you noticed something peculiar about this time. The house that the old man had his yard sale in was now stripped of all decoration, with a For Sale sign proudly standing in the grass. No cars, and no blinds or curtains on the windows, so you could see into the den which was now devoid of any furniture.

You’ll admit it, you crept around to the other windows, searching for any signs of life at all in the empty rooms. None. No furniture, no people, no trash. The yard sale was yesterday. How did they clean this place out so thoroughly in the short amount of time between when you’d seen it last and now.

A little confuddled, you went home as usual. While strange as hell, this wasn’t a missing person’s case or anything. And it’s probably why the man was so adamant on giving you Fredbear because it was the end of the day. He had a deadline. He was skipping town.

God, you wished you could just skip town.

You frankly thought nothing of it when you unlocked the door to your apartment to see Fredbear was already seated on the couch, like he was all set to marathon whatever 30-year-old cartoon you wound up watching that night. And it’s not like your roommate hadn’t done something like this before, move a stuffed animal or action figure into a funny position for you to find later.

You hadn’t seen him much lately. Or like, at all. The only reason you knew he was still alive were the dirty dishes in the sink, dirty clothes on the floor of the bathroom, and the aforementioned moving the bear around.

Looking back now, was he moving the bear around?

If you locked the deadbolt that can’t be unlocked from the outside, you’d be guaranteed to catch him in person for once. But you weren’t willing to go through the trouble and emotional toil of doing that, however.

In the name of feeling less like a ghost haunting your own home, getting yelled at for intentionally locking your roommate out might be a wee bit counterproductive. Sure, you’d be seen and spoken to, but the harshness of his words and tone would send you into a worse episode than you were already in.

Well, at least Fredbear seemed ready to keep you company tonight...

The fact that they put unskippable advertisements on streaming services you’re paying for in the first place is criminal. Or at least regular cable tv in a trenchcoat.

You got a drink while they prattled on about luxury cars you couldn’t afford and real estate companies you weren’t going to have the privilege of patroning any time soon. Embarrassingly, as you poured the pitcher of water into a glass, you got a little distracted.

The cheap glass’s glass was only about a millimeter or two thick. You could easily just crush this cup in your hand, in one swift movement. The muscles of your arm began tensing up at the thought.

But thankfully, a loud, blaring advertisement coming from the TV snapped you out of it. And so, you promptly decided to Not Do That, because picking all of those tiny glass shards out of your flesh would be a bitch. And that was not how you wanted to spend a perfectly good Sunday night. And of course you didn’t need the questions at work tomorrow.

You returned to the couch, curiously, and you swear, that damn teddy bear followed you with its eyes. Even though they were a shiny, solid black, and the idea itself would be insane.

As you settled back down, you grabbed the remote to turn down the volume of the cheery music playing. Mysteriously, it wasn’t just a commercial with bad sound mixing, the TV itself had been turned up. Now that it had your attention, the thing that was being sold to you seemed to the state of Utah. You know, those Visit [X] ads that were commonly played between cooking shows and ghost hunting documentaries.

“Oh hey, you’re from there, right?” you poked at fredbear. And immediately felt pathetic. God, you’ve got to stop talking to inanimate objects and like get a boyfriend or something. Geez.

The imagery on the screen was just, you know, normal southwest stock footage:

A drone shot of Zion national park

Old men golfing

Owls living in holes they’ve dug into cactuses

Rock archways

A family laughing as they shared a pizza being served to them by a man in a bear suit that looked just fredbear,

“Oh, well there you are, I guess.” you once again absent-mindedly spoke to your toy friend.

Kids swimming in a fancy resort pool

A Navajo cultural event

More rock archways and red sandstone cliffs

Kids crowding around a claw machine filled with toys just like the one sitting next to you

Kids crowding around a stage as an animatronic band played

Kids crowding around a birthday cake, the light of candles bouncing off their faces as they sang along…

The fake sounding voice of the announcer rung out, “Visit Utah! You know the party can’t start without you!”

Your mouth felt dry. Good thing you now had that glass of water.

***

Of course, you did what any smart, sane person would do and feverishly ripped through the layers of old flyers to get to the advertisement for what you now knew was Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place. A themed diner and nickel arcade that made most of their money hosting birthday parties, by the looks of it. You knew the type; you had been an American child once too.

Good thing none of the cops were hanging around outside to fine you for littering, because the amount of paper you just released into the breeze was in fact criminal.

There was a short list of locations at the bottom of the poster. They had a few scattered over Utah, or at least they used to, judging by the harsh weathering of this poster. The closest one being in Bigwater, explaining why this poster was out here in Tuba. But the word Hurricane stood out to you like it was lit up in neon. It burned like sunlight.

It appears you are in fact on your way to Hurricane, Utah. As if you didn’t know that already at this point, you being out on the canyon rim instead of your much preferred and beloved Rockies. Well, congratulations bitch. You’ve only got another three hours to go. Better get going. Have fun!

***

Oh, this place was creepy as hell. Or it’s just late at night, and you’re sleep deprived and paranoid. In the spirit of being honest to yourself, ‘sleep deprived and paranoid’ has always been your natural state of being, but right now it’s definitely ramped up to an eleven.

But even though it’s been close to 48 hours since your last brain-reset, this place still had a certain energy about it. Like New Orleans, or the woods around lynching bridges did. That spooky oh I am Not Safe here type of energy.

The gas station-man gave you a real weird look when you stormed in and asked where the Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place was. Normally you would’ve chalked it up to you being a clear foreigner asking for directions as if it’s 1995, to a children’s arcade close to midnight nonetheless, but now you weren’t so sure.

You eyed the fridge full of wine in pint sized bottles and little juice cartons. But nah, you probably needed to have a quick reaction time to whatever was waiting for you in this Venus flytrap you’re willingly walking into. You grabbed a Monster instead and you know what, yeah, that probably wasn’t the best decision either. If you weren’t high strung before, you definitely were now. You felt like you could punch a bear. A Freddy Fazbear.

You bought a local map alongside the energy drink, feeling like you were gonna need it. Man, low-tech was actually kinda annoying after a while. You got the gas station-man to begrudgingly mark Fazbear’s down onto it for you. Apparently, it and all other locations within town had closed down some twenty years ago. Not many people are still around who remember why, he said, but it had something to do with the faulty animatronics. Teenagers told ghost stories and dared each other to spend the whole night in the dining room. But otherwise, beyond the rumors, the original Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza Place was just an empty, scorched building. And the other various locations like Jr’s or Circus Baby’s had been sold off, passing so many hands who knows what businesses were in there now. But you could still kinda tell, if you paid attention, in the same way you can tell if something used to be a Pizza Hut.

What you really wanted, according to gas station-man, whose nametag read Gary, was this new location that was opening soon, simply named Freddy’s Pizzeria. It’s set to open for business in September, so you’re lucky. He marked it one your map as well.

You don’t know why Gary was so nice to you. Maybe it was the harrowed look in your eyes. Maybe it was the twitchiness. Maybe Gary is just very bored of this tourist town and was looking to fall madly in love with a random troubled soul he met at midnight in a gas station and would wind up running away with to some far-off place. If that was the case, sorry Gary. You were too busy with the metaphorical torture labyrinth to care about romance at the moment.

You couldn’t decide if the haunted Fredbear would want to see an old location or the new one. You asked, but of course the fucker didn’t answer. Just sat there with his smug grin and glassy eyes that followed your hand movements. So, you quite literally tossed a coin. A new mint, the face side had Eleanor Roosevelt on it. And she marked the fact that you were going to try the new location first, and then try the original building next. Cool.

***

Your patience was kinda at its limit here, you’ll admit. You really should get some sleep soon. Or eat. Since you were hellbent on getting here and nothing else, the only thing on your stomach besides that wretched Tweety Bird popsicle is half a monster energy. Guess you’ll go by a fucking Denny’s after this. If you survive.

If you were going to die horrifically, you’d really rather the forces that be make it snappy. This was getting ridiculous.

You pulled into the parking lot. The building clearly wasn’t new but had been freshly painted. Nothing creepy so far. As you stared down the building, sizing it up, you noticed there was one car parked in the front, and a few of the windows were lit up.

Cool, so there was someone in there. Great. That makes, well whatever this is, much harder.

The door was locked.

You could hear music playing from inside. You banged on the door as loudly as you could manage, and it still took a couple of minutes before the music stopped. And then a very disgruntled man in coveralls was in the doorway, tiredly asking just what the fuck you wanted at this time of night.

He smiled to cover up his rudeness, but the smile stretched a little too wide, inhumanly wide, and a shiver ran down your spine.

You took him in, unashamedly raking your eyes over his form. He stood awkwardly, as if ready to bolt at any moment. What you could see of his build made him out to be weirdly skinny. That unnaturally wide smile gave way to some exposed teeth on the left side of his face. His eyes were shadowed by his bangs in the backlight of the door, but you swore they almost glowed themselves. His complexion was greyish and bordered on almost purple in this lighting.

Despite all this, he was still pretty handsome. Well, you did always think some of those creepypasta guys were boyfriend material. Maybe, you wouldn’t mind getting chopped up into little pieces if this guy was the one doing it. Okay, and maybe you’ve been sleeplessly chasing ghosts too long.

Startling you, he reached his hand to grab your shoulder, a little too fast.

“Hey mate, are you okay?” He asked nervously,

It snapped you out of your stupor, realizing you had yet to say a word to him, “Uh, yes, I just wanted to…”

How do you even fucking ask this. “Hey, can I bring a stuffed bear to your dining room so maybe it’s spirit will leave me alone? Maybe conduct a séance or something?” Seriously, did you even know what you were doing here? Shit. Okay.

“I wanted to ask if I could check out your facility?” came out like a question because even you had no clue what you were saying.

“Come back tomorrow in the daylight, then,” he began closing the door, shaking his head in annoyance, “or perhaps when we’re actually open.”

“NO!” you slammed your foot into the door as he closed it, “AAGH!”

“Jesus Christ! WHY.”

Dear lord, this man now 100% thinks you’re a crackhead.

“Just, don’t close that door, okay,” his brows scrunched together as you grit your teeth to swallow down the pain, “I need you to help me.”

“I really don’t have any money to spar--”

“I’M HERE BECAUSE OF A GHOST,” you interrupted. Finally, you managed to get that out somehow, if nonsensical.

A look of recognition flickered in his glowing eyes. He lowered into your space, kind of intimidatingly. Or intimately. Yeah, no, this was hostile, don’t fool yourself.

“What kind of ghost,” he asked suspiciously.

“Uh,” shit, okay, “the weird, haunted doll kind? Uh, like the ones the McElroy brothers are always bidding on on eBay. Or maybe this is kind of a Ben Drowned kinda situation, I’m not completely sure.”

He blinked, “okay, I only understood a few of those words, but—”

“It’s a Freddy teddy bear that really wanted me to take it to Hurricane, okay?” You really were at the end of your rope at the moment, “I have literally driven here for days straight on no sleep and barely any food and I need this Unauthorized Fucking Thing to find it’s eternal peace or kill me in some horrible way so I can hurry up and get on with my goddamn life,”

“Uh, see… the thing is,” he started to retreat back again, slowly moving his hands like he was trying to calm down a spooked animal.

 You realized what was about to happen, and it must have been visible in your eyes, since his huge unnatural placating smile returned,

“I actually don’t want anything to do with that, sooo…”

“PLEASE—” you reached out in blind panic, but he dodged it. (now if only you could’ve dodged the scooper like that Mikey)

The door slammed in your face.

Your breathing was ragged and fogged up the glass as he locked it again. You stared up at those glowing pinprick pupils of his as he gave you an apologetic little wave goodbye. And then he fucking made a big show of pointing at the closed sign before turning tail to disappear back into the darkness of the empty restaurant.

Okay.

Just a little setback. You’ll go to the older location first, now, and come back when this asshole is sleeping. Can’t be too hard to bust out one of those windows, and you doubt he has an alarm set up already. It’s his fault, really. If he didn’t want property damage, then he should’ve just let you in. Not like you haven’t warned him that you were desperate or anything.

Just gonna go to the other location. You’ve got your map, you’ve got a tank full of gas, and you’ve got chutzpah.

Now what you don’t have? Is a car that will start.

[interpolanticssuperfan]

nothing natural | ken x fem!reader | part 1 | 18+ only

warnings: this will eventually contain smut so please be mindful. part of my goal is to explore ken developing a relationship with a human who struggles with their own vices, and doesn't feel qualified to teach him how to be human. i'd consider this slow burn with obviously eventual relationship fluff and smut (this includes ken doing things like drinking alcohol for the first time, having sexual experiences for the first time, etc.) not sure how many parts this will be but i will keep everyone updated!

also - my main is @snuffbby i just didnt feel comfortable posting it there, but you can follow me there if you want to chat or ask questions about this ongoing work. thanks <3 <3

Meeting Ken was actually a complete and unforeseen fluke – not on your part, it’s not like you were looking for him. 

Frankly, you weren’t looking for anything at this point in your life. Burnt out, at the end of your rope with men and content to enjoy your own company in the comfort of your apartment, happy to work your menial clerical job for the rest of your life until a better paying career fell into your lap.

Or whatever.

You didn’t really care. As odd as it sounded, you were thankful right now for boring. For humdrum chores, for cleaning the kitchen and brainlessly answering emails for eight hours a day until your joints ached. 

Having been out of college for four years now, you’d put in a decent tenure at your current company doing data entry. It wasn’t challenging and afforded you plenty of freedom in your schedule. That being said, most days were seamless copies of one another – wake up, feed your guinea pig, stretch on the tiny sliver of patio out front, then head to the library down the road to work until your eyes crossed from screen fatigue. 

Nothing really ever changed. Yogurt for breakfast every morning. Repeated motions of the only three yoga poses you knew. Even your guinea pig seemed to look at you with confusion sometimes when you fed her, tiny eyes ogling up at you from her spacious enclosure.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you’d mutter, dropping in romaine lettuce and pellets for her. And after every complaint, she would twirl in a circle, waiting for her daily brushing.

The library was a godsend on these hot summer days, air conditioned and quiet. You didn’t even need headphones, but preferred them to focus. The secretary stopped asking if she could help you find anything when she realized you’d become a regular patron of the modern looking white table near the massive windows.

“Good morning, Pat,” you’d smile as you passed, and she’d give you a little wave, usually on the phone with someone or engrossed in a book of her own. 

Updating spreadsheets. Notifying supervisors of progress. Nearly nodding off at eleven thirty. It had been shaping up to be an entirely normal, predictable, cut and dry day. Until a silhouette by the front desk grew bigger, approaching your peripheral and then flat out startling you. Numbers and figures had started to blur together, so you blinked hard and shut your laptop – just to find an incredibly curious sight across from you.

Sat comfortable and cross-legged in the opposing chair was one of, if not the most objectively attractive men you’d ever seen in your entire life. Pretty in a way that bordered on unnatural, like a living sculpture. A long, denim-clad arm splayed out lazily along the back of the chair. 

This man gave you a calculated yet warm smirk that danced across his features. Bleached blonde like a model and face angled, glazed in sunlight that inched through the windows. He was something straight out of a fairytale – picturesque, almost glowing.

Where had he come from?

“Is this seat taken?” Inexplicably you felt the back of your neck heating up, a ring of sweat forming around your collar where your necklace was clasped. It seemed to sear into your skin as you fumbled over your words, deciding what to say to the stranger who’d placed himself in front of you like an apparition. 

“I… no, I’m here by myself. Working, I’m, uh. Just working.” Strangely, you noticed him make a fist to himself, concealed partly by the table, but his gesture of victory was obvious, as if he’d just won a bet or something. The blonde composed himself then with a twitch of his neck, nodding evenly, instantaneously cool as a cucumber again. His bright blue eyes studied you, your laptop and planner on the desk, your bag hanging across the arm of the chair. You’d never needed the air conditioning to be effective more so than this moment. Crank it way up – igloo this place all the way.

“Excellent. My name’s Ken.” Big blue eyes finally locking with yours, he puffed his chest out, like a purple and green speckled peacock trying to attract a mate with his confidence, his easy bravado. Though it was difficult to ignore the openness – the curiosity in his eyes as he took you in. 

Like it was his first time talking to a woman, or at least trying to do… whatever he was doing right now with you. 

You felt that your instincts would warn you if this neatly manicured man was making you uneasy or frightened, but you didn’t notice an inkling of displeasure. On the contrary, it was almost electrifying to be stared at like this. Flattering. 

Had been months, almost a year since anyone paid attention to you like this.

“Ken?” Unable to stop the laugh, you tilted your head sideways, scooting your chair back to get a better look at him. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a Ken. Wait – I’m sorry, that’s not true. My dad’s boss was named Ken. But you wouldn’t, um. You wouldn’t know him. At least I don’t think so, I have no idea where you’re from. He was an engineer, this senior engineer for a huge company in New Jersey… we don’t keep in touch, he’s sort of an asshole.” You found yourself rambling on as you drank this surprising man in, freely sharing details about yourself without even telling him your name first. 

But what an interesting view he was. Painted still with this deeply intoxicating smile, pupils darting and eager like an energetic puppy. 

“I am not from New Jersey. But I’m sorry the other Ken was – what did you call him?”

“An... asshole?”

“Yes, I’m sorry he was that.” Your long winded introduction didn’t seem to bother him one bit. He kept his gaze unmoving right on your face, like he was terrified to break eye contact.

You eyed his white cowboy boots (did people still wear those?), black leather pants that hugged his legs like a gift from the heavens, and a long sleeved white denim jacket that appeared to be cropped, revealing just a hint of his lower stomach, and when you caught your eyes lingering for just too long on the tanned patch of skin peeking out, you sighed, shutting yourself up. 

You couldn’t shake one thing, though; leather and denim on a day like this? It was nearly ninety outside, you remembered, and cocked your head at him.

“Oh, I was talking about my dad, not his boss. And I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

“A lovely name for a lovely lady,” Ken replied, studying you to gauge your reaction to his compliment. It was clear Ken was attempting to hit on you, and it was equal parts unfamiliar and gratifying. 

“Thank you. I’ve never had anyone say that about my name.” Ken winced as if shot through the heart, his flawless eyebrows flying up to his flawless hairline, and he clutched at the buttons on his jacket. This display would have probably seemed incredibly dramatic on any other man, but for some reason it read as… serious on Ken.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You shook your head. “I’m not.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

“Well, I really appreciate your honesty, Ken.”

“It’s no problem at all. I would never lie to you. Not in a hundred million years.”

Very heartfelt words coming from someone you’ve known for all of… four minutes, generously. 

You quirked your head, caught off guard by his comment. “I… thank you. If you don’t mind me asking, what brought you over… here? To sit with me, I mean?”

This caused a beam to unfold across Ken’s face, and he leaned back in the chair, perching his chin up so as to look professional. “Can I tell you the truth?” 

“Well. Yes, I’d like that.”

“I saw you here last week. On – what’s the one that starts with an ‘F’?” Ken screwed his eyes shut, scanning his brain meticulously for a piece of very common, everyday information. 

This is a bizarre way to flirt with someone for the first time, you thought to yourself, bewilderment sinking into your gut as you helpfully offered, “Friday?”

“Yes! That’s it. Friday,” He uttered to himself and dropped his eyes, seemingly making a mental note. “So, I saw you here Friday. You were getting a book from right over there.” Ken pointed to the magazine rack nestled against the front desk that you once in awhile perused when the weekend approached, for lack of anything better to do at home.

You had checked out a magazine last Friday, in fact, after you clocked out for the day and packed up your things. It wasn’t anything special, just a stupid crossword puzzle collection with a recipe for a quiche you wanted to try making.

“You saw me on Friday and didn’t say anything?” 

“Exactly. You got the magazine, and then you walked home, and I didn’t know what to say because you were already inside. So then I walked back here – the library – and waited in case you came back. But that rude lady up there told me they were closing at nine, so I had to leave. Actually, she told me a little more than that. She said that I couldn’t loiter, whatever that is, but I was free to check out a book, so I asked her what book you had just gotten. But she didn’t want to tell me that for some reason.”

Ken recounted this like he was describing the weather with a colleague, just simple, redundant water cooler talk. Your jaw hung open in disbelief. Was he being serious? You’d finished work at four thirty. He sat here, allegedly for hours until it closed? 

He’d followed you home?

Before you could interject with a dozen questions flying through your mind, Ken continued. 

“Anyway, I thought about walking back to your house – and you have a big house, by the way! I had a feeling you would. You seem like a very successful lady. That’s why I had to meet you. Successful, captivating, beautiful, I couldn’t just go all the way back to Barbieland after I saw you!”

Had he mistook your apartment complex to be something you owned? And – what did he just say?

“Go back. To Barbieland.” You stated, smile faltering quicker than Ken managed to absolutely stun you with his fanatical tale.

“Right? I knew you would understand. I just knew you would, (Y/N)! Not to mention how long it took me to get here in the first place. So after security kicked me out –”

“Hold on, I’m sorry. I just… Ken?”

“Yes, my dove?” Ken’s taken to periodically toying with his jacket in positions that display his pronounced biceps. It’s endearing. It’s distracting. He’s stiflingly mesmerizing.

“Okay. Can we back up for a moment?”

Ken’s wide eyes regard you with infinite patience, wisps of his almost silver-like bangs falling against his brow bone. You remember that it’s only noon, and you’re still technically on the clock. In fact, your supervisor is almost certainly trying to get ahold of you for his midday rounds, checking on your team’s progress for the day. 

“Ask me anything you want. I am an open book. Especially for you.” He enunciates each syllable, adoring eyes raking over you again, and it’s beginning to feel a bit too much – and there’s a lot more information you need to derive from Ken before you can backpedal to… introductions and amicable conversation. (Not to mention the curling heat that’s pooling in your lower abdomen the more Ken devours you visually. He may have just dropped a bomb on you, yes, but he’s… well. He’s bewitching, alluring in a fashion that’s barely comprehensible.)

“Right. Here’s where I’m at. With all of this. I am very flattered by you, and your… dedication to finding me.” 

Ken’s grin overtakes his face, eye lines wrinkling with complete satisfaction. You almost forget your next words, forget to draw a line in the sand with this (gorgeous) stranger who’s just admitted to essentially stalking you.

But somehow, the pit in your stomach ceases its knotting when you meet his honest cobalt eyes. Not a hint of malice behind them, not a shred of ill intention. Not for the first time since you’d met Ken, you’re astounded that with any other man this behavior would scare you, probably compel you to call the police, even. Maybe you’d misjudged him.

He forgot the word for Friday, for Christ’s sake. 

But then there was this talk about traveling a long way to come here… about Barbie? This didn’t sit right with you, and the concept that Ken might be mentally unwell dawned on you, though he seemed coherent and relatively well spoken. Just a half hour ago you’d been toiling away with spreadsheets, and now you were silently cataloging all psychiatric facilities within a ten mile radius, wondering if a man of average height and average build could walk that far on a sweltering hot day. And still look, for lack of a better word, perfect. 

As you sat agonizing over the right words to say, Ken merely watched with his hands in his lap, boot tapping against his knee with no discernible rhythm. Patient with an emotion akin to devotion swimming through his watchful gaze.

“Ken… where are you staying?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Where have you been staying while you’ve been in town? Do you live around here?”

Ken smirked again, leaned in close to you, resting his elbows on your work laptop. “There’s that humor I like about you. Silly girl. I already told you, I live in Barbieland. It takes me seven hours to get here!”

“Okay. Right. So, let’s try this. Friday when I went home and you came back here. You remember that?”

“Uh huh,” Ken bobbed his head with sincerity, unfazed by this line of questioning, not picking up on how perturbed you’d grown.

“Where did you sleep that night? Do you know anyone here?”

Ken took his bottom lip in between his teeth, thoughtfully chewed on it. “Besides you, I don’t think so. The book lady who kicked me out doesn’t count as knowing someone. Right?”

“...Probably not. So where did you sleep?” You didn’t have the heart to tell Ken he didn’t really know you.

“I didn’t.”

“Sleep. You didn’t sleep?”

“No one’s asked me that before. I don’t really… get tired.” This confession strikes you as highly strange.

Your head began to feel fuzzy, and you guessed it wasn’t from skipping breakfast this morning. At least the sweat on your back had finally dried, and you inhaled deeply, trying not to startle Ken with your obvious worries.

“How about we do this. As you can see, I’m working right now,” you open your hand towards your long forgotten computer. “Well, I was working. And I’m not done for a few hours. But I think that we need to sit and talk about… everything. That you’ve told me.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll just wait here with you until you’re done! Look – I wanted to show you this. I even got a book before you got here.” Ken seems excited to share, so you purse your lips, watch him as he procures a book from underneath his chair. 

Ken holds out and frames a well worn paperback titled “Misty of Chincoteague”, frayed at the edges and featuring a wistful painting of a horse on the cover. For some reason, this childlike display of wonder touches you, and against all reason you’d ever acquired throughout your life, something nags at your conscience to trust this strange man – something tells you, like a mantra beating in time with your heart, that this man is not a threat to you, he is not going to hurt you.

“Are you a horse lover?”

“I’m more of a horse admirer… they intrigue me,” Ken quips, scanning your face again to see how you’re reacting to him. He seems to be at once keenly self aware and simultaneously oblivious to how he sounds – how he’s received by others. This man is a conundrum, made up of so many conflicting personality traits and mannerisms that don’t belong together but mesh nonetheless. 

And, you tell yourself, you’re still giving him your undivided attention.

“I wouldn’t have guessed that about you.”

“Really?” Ken’s act of unbothered macho-man seems to slip slightly as his eyes bulge, intently seeking for validation, wanting to hear you talk more about him, your impression of him so far. Maybe this is the way to get more information out of him, you realize, so you humor him.

“Not at all, Ken. Tell you what – why don’t you come back with me to my ap… my house, and you can tell me more about the things you like? Would you like that?”

In the minutes since you’d begun talking to him, Ken shone brighter than ever, practically buzzing with enthusiasm, gilded with a golden halo from the unrepentant sun as he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “Perfect. You lead the way, I’m ready whenever you are!”