#poly class 1 a x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spatialwave · 7 months ago

Text

"my ambition" - part three | the prequel

➸ pairing: jayvik x fem!reader ➸ word count: 4.5k ➸ tags: mdni! minimal nsfw, fluffly, poly relationship, relationship beginnings, blossoming love, s1 act 1, no mention of y/n, alcohol use. ➸ notes: so excited to get this out! had a fun time giving this relationship history and i spent way too much time overthinking whether the ending was too rushed or if it was too self-indulgent... and then i realized its a fic so i get to do what i want LOL! pls let me know if you would like more parts, or if you want some drabbles about this specific trio. i would really appreciate it.🥹

<- part 2

You had always been academically gifted. Rising to the top of your classes each semester, pushing aside anyone in your way. Especially for a young woman, who had been accepted into the Academy before you had even finished your secondary schooling – a gifted student with the proudest of parents and professors.

Born with an influx of ambition flowing through your veins, knowing from a young age your duties to the world. It took more than wordy false promises to make a difference to Runeterra, it took action. That’s why you vowed to help Zaun.

What better way to take action, than to help those who had been long forgotten about. You were smart enough to see the way the city had been tossed aside, forgotten about, while Piltover only continued to grow and thrive. There was sickness festering underneath, people dying because of the less-than living conditions and poverty that swallowed it whole.

There were many days when you wondered if it was too much, if you, as a topsider, could actually make a difference. Would anyone want your help? The bigger question being – how were you going to help?

Then, you met Viktor.

That was when your ambition rose higher than ever. A smart, young man a handful of years older than you – a man from Zaun himself. The youngest assistant to the dean, a title that was hard to come by, and rather jealousy inducing.

You’d weaseled your way into his life quite easily, finding him in the halls and striking conversation whenever you could. He was polite, and good at slipping away when your attention became overbearing. You couldn’t help your over-excitement for a scholar from the undercity. Someone who matched your levels of ambition. Someone who was able to teach you about the place that had been nothing more than whispers and off-hand comments by your peers.

You fell in love. Quickly, and hard.

Viktor, too. It was your smile, your innate excitement, the genuine intrigue you had of him and how he was able to share the experiences of chronic illness with someone who wasn’t just a damned doctor – someone who understood the pain. How could he not fall in love?

Viktor found himself appreciating you more and more with each passing day, wondering when you’d sneak through the halls to find him to share your newest revelation.

Wondering when he could be expected to be pulled into a broom closet so you could ravage his lips with your own. He hadn’t been so experienced with romance until you appeared in his life, content with focusing on his studies at the academy. You changed the trajectory of his life—and so had Jayce.

”Hextech?” You raised an eyebrow, sitting on a stone bench within the academy courtyard and holding a half-eaten apple in your hand, “I don’t know. Sounds… unstable,” you murmured honestly, looking between Viktor’s eyes as he stood in front of you. You took another bite, the sweet flavour calming you.

You had to admit, as much as you were uncomfortable with this new scientific breakthrough, so to speak, you had never seen Viktor quite this excited about anything.

“Precisely,” Viktor said, eyes practically shimmering as he spoke to you, “that’s why you’re going to help.”

“No way,” you huffed, standing on your feet and waving him away, “you just told me that all the work got confiscated, how the hell would I even help?” You spoke in a hushed whisper, as if Heimerdinger himself was listening in to the conversation.

“Eh, confiscated is a loose term,” he said, taking a step toward you, a gentle hand on your shoulder. You tensed at the touch, turning your head from his gaze and shaking your head adamantly.

You had morals, and perhaps you listened to the dean a bit too much at times. Science was incredible, but ethics were important, and the explosion was proof that it was an unpredictable type of magic. If Heimerdinger made the call that hextech was unsafe, a yordle with decades over your own experiences, then you should listen, no?

“It has the capabilities of helping more than just the city,” he urged, fingers tightening on your shoulder, “Please. Let us show you.”

Those words tugged at your heartstrings, leaving you conflicted as your heart yearned to know more. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes momentarily as your mind reeled at all the possibilities.

The first image to pop in your mind was the proper union of Zaun and Piltover, an incredible feat that no one could ever pull off. No more distinction between the two – just one beautiful place to live. Your dream.

Could hextech really be the key?

“Fine,” you sighed, crinkling your nose and opening your eyes, “but I’m under no obligation to like this Jayce guy, he sounds like he doesn’t know how to properly take care of his research.” You looked up at Viktor through your lashes, watching the way the corners of his lips curved into a small smile, “Why are you smiling like that?”

—

“Crank it!” Jayce exclaimed from his chair, eyes full of childlike wonder, as Viktor stood at the chalkboard, crossing through equations and murmuring about the research he was still properly acquainting himself with.

You, however, stood next to Jayce, chewing hard on your bottom lip as your partner agreed with his words.

It all seemed fine, plausible, even. Yet, you remained apprehensive.

“And it if it doesn’t stabilize, what then? Part two of the great blue explosion that destroyed your apartment?” You asked, eyes focusing on the man sitting, his honey-coloured eyes shining as they watched you. Your stomach twisted tight, hating the way he made you fill with butterflies.

You knew him for less than twenty-four hours, and he already had you twisted around his fingers. Gods.

It was completely unfair to be caught between them both.

“It’s worth a test,” he was adamant, then a sigh left his lips, “but we don’t have access to my equipment.”

“Which is being destroyed tomorrow,” Viktor murmured, eyes back on the chalkboard and fingers touching his chin as he was lost deep in thought.

You jumped when Jayce stood quickly, the chair he sat on nearly toppling over.

“What?” he asked, panic rising in his throat.

“Oh, yeah,” Viktor cringed, looking over his shoulder at Jayce, “Sorry. I meant to tell you.”

You could sense the way Jayce was teetering on the edge of a breakdown, his breath hitching in his throat as he rambled on about how it was his life work, how they could show the council the equations to show them the proof. There had to be something!

But Viktor was right, proof wasn’t reliable on paper. They needed physical proof. A real test.

“We can’t do it without the crystals. The enforcers took them all, they’re gone,” Jayce ran his hands over his face as he collapsed onto the chair once more, deflated from the situation.

Your hand rested atop his shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze, much like Viktor did with you when you were overworked. Jayce flickered his gaze to you, those puppy-like eyes offering a silent ‘thank-you’.

“Mhm,” Viktor hummed, “locked away in Heimerdinger’s lab,” he continued, eyes settling on you.

“No,” you were quick to know where he was going with this, “Count me out, we are not breaking in.”

“She’s right,” Jayce said, eyes widening, “you heard the council, if we’re wrong–”

“Better be right then,” Viktor interrupted, and Jayce’s eyes sparkled with possibility.

You felt a tightness in your chest, shaking your head as you took a step back. The two of them spoke back and forth, but you hadn’t been listening. Just as you reached the boiling point, you turned on your heels and took a step away, but Jayce was quick to turn his attention back to you. He stepped forward, hand grabbing your wrist, and you felt your heart jump up into your throat.

“Stay,” he pleaded, hand tightening.

You huffed a loud sigh through your nostrils, brows creasing together and lifting. Gods, why did he have to be so goddamned charming? You hardly noticed the curious look that Viktor gave you two before rolling his eyes and turning back to the chalkboard. The smirk on his lips well hidden.

“Fine!” You snapped, pulling your arm from his grip, “but if we get caught I’m telling everyone that you two made me do it. I am not taking the fall for this.”

Jayce grinned, a toothy smile that lit your cheeks aflame, “Deal.”

You stayed a few feet behind the two men, arms crossed over your chest, as you careened through the halls quietly. You were hardly a rule breaker, in fact, usually a stickler for keeping peace. It was in your nature, like many topsiders.

When the three of you reached the door, you felt panic rising as footsteps echoed down the hall from where you had just come from.

“Shit,” Jayce whispered, “hurry.”

Viktor was fiddling with the keys, fingers filtering through them until he found the one for Heimerdinger’s lab. With practiced ease, he slipped the key into the door lock, twisting back and forth until it clicked.

Both you and Jayce were standing side-by-side, watching a flashlight in the distance, pointing in your direction, but too far to pick up on the three figures breaking in.

Viktor opened the door, and they stepped inside, but you were frozen. Unable to tear your gaze away from the enforcer that had been doing patrols and walking right toward you.

“Ah!” You gasped when there was a harsh tug on your arm, stumbling into the laboratory and crashing against Jayce’s chest. Viktor closed the door behind you without even the slightest creaking – a perfectly silent entrance.

“You've never broken a rule in your life, have you?” Jayce smiled, eyes watching you with curiosity as you pulled away from him yet again. You opened your mouth to answer but Viktor cut you off.

“She is a law-abiding citizen,” he answered, supporting himself on his cane as he walked further into the lab, looking around for the confiscated equipment.

“Can you guys keep it down? They’ll hear us.” You whispered, pushing past Jayce. Annoyed, and thankful the redness on your cheeks wasn’t visible in the darkened room.

“Huh,” Jayce grinned in response to Viktor, walking behind you as he looked around the lab, “you’re not kidding.”

“Shut up.” You hissed.

Settling in the lab, you stood off to the side, peering at some of Heimerdinger’s books as Jayce scrambled to find the pieces of his work. You listened to the sounds of the electrical whirring as he welded the parts back together, lost in thought as your fingers traced over the spine of a book.

A hand lifted to the small of your back, startling you for a moment.

“Sorry,” Viktor murmured, eyes watching you.

“It’s okay,” you chuckled, smiling as you leaned against him. Silence grew between you two as you slowly dropped your hand from the bookcase. You glanced at Viktor, biting down on the inside of your lip in habit, “Do you think hextech really has the strength to help people? Like us?”

Those honey-eyes softened as they flickered over your nervous expression, and he nodded, “I do.”

With a deep inhale, you tried to let go of your apprehension to the situation. This was for the best. If you wanted to reach your dreams, you had to run over a few toes, right?

“It’s all here,” Jayce called from his spot at the table, pulling the goggles off of his face and turning to look over at you two.

Viktor held up a blue hextech crystal to you, one from the handful that was confiscated, and when you offered him a questionable look, he insisted with the forward movement of his hand. Slowly, you reached out and took it in your fingers, feeling the rigid orb press against your skin.

This was it.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek before making your way to Jayce, who had been looking at you two with a small smile.

“Here,” you said, offering the crystal with an open palm as you stood next to him, Viktor coming up beside you.

Jayce reached out, taking the crystal, but not without a lingering touch to your hand. Viktor took notice, a sparkle in his eyes that you hadn’t noticed as you watched in curiosity as the hextech crystal was placed into the machinery.

It glowed a bright blue hue, sparks from the crystal illuminating the room. You had never seen anything so beautiful.

“It’s time to crank it!” Viktor said excitedly as he snapped close one of Jayce’s notebooks he had spent time looking through the past few days, looking in front of you and toward Jayce.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” He asked, growing uncertain as Viktor sucked back a breath and shook his head.

“Do it,” you interjected, eyes wide as you stared at the beauty of the hextech. The inner scientist in you couldn’t be tamed any longer, you needed to see what this could do. It was almost addicting, and you couldn’t look away. It had sucked you in completely, “you have to try.”

They shared a look between each other, swallowing lumps down their throats. Viktor leaned forward, pressing the button of the machine, and it began to spin. It gained enough speed that it created a constant blow of wind that pushed your hair back wildly – electric currents flying wildly.

“I don’t think it’s going to hold!” Jayce said loudly, the electrical crackling of the machine deafening all other noses, “look at the buildup!”

“The resonance will stabilize it, trust me,” Viktor returned, sharing a thoughtful look with Jayce, an attempt to calm him.

You, however, were unable to look away. You stared at the wild glows of blue, a smile on your face, and blissfully unaware of the enforcers that were making their way up to the laboratory after seeing the blue light shining from the windows of the lab.

Moments later, the chaos settled, and you gasped with a big smile, hands slamming on the tabletop, “this is incredible!” You exclaimed in awe, watching as it stabilized.

Viktor smiled to himself, his hand finding your back yet again, “told you it would work,” he said encouragingly, eyes flickering to Jayce, “all yours.”

“It’s never done that before,” he murmured to himself, unable to tear his gaze from the slowly spinning crystal that sent waves of electricity to the surrounding runes, “...alright. Here we go.”

Hesitantly, he reached to the button Viktor had pressed, twisting the knob several times, so the surrounding runes began to spin and orbit the crystal.

You watched expectantly as Jayce twisted it over and over, creating different pathways for the crystal to spark energy. You couldn’t help but lean closer, even when the out flowing electricity stung your cheeks.

What the three of you hadn’t expected was a surge of energy to blast out, nearly toppling you all and breaking the lab’s windows. Within the impact, you fell right into Jayce with a yelp. Strong arms wrapped around you as he reached for the knob, and you clung to him, face buried into his chest.

The energy was strong, and for a moment you prepared for the untimely death of three scientists who just wanted to change lives. How fitting.

Then, the glass from the window flew back into place, as though time around you reversed, causing a brief moment of respite and enough time for Jayce to push forward and slam his hand on the button. The crystal fell back into place, and you were all able to breathe.

Slowly, you peeled yourself away from Jayce, feeling around your face and body to make sure your body was still completely intact.

“Incredible,” Viktor beamed, smiling, “we need to try again.”

You and Jayce shared a look, silently agreeing that it was now or never. And for you, there was no more backing out.

This time, you took a few steps back, not wanting to be caught up in the aftermath of a worse explosion, but still curious enough to peek over their shoulders. As you settled back, you swore you heard sounds coming from the hallway, but it was hard to tell over the crackling sounds of the hextech.

Pressing your ear against the door, you closed your eyes to focus, and you gasped.

“Someone’s coming,” you told them, hands holding the doorknob tight, “you better hurry.”

Viktor took a few steps to the door, sliding his cane through the handles of the door so it was snug, “better than nothing.”

The two of you shared a startled gasp, the rattling of the door loud when the enforcers reached the door and began to hit it with force, kicking and yelling for you to open up. Heimerdinger was with them.

“Stop this lunacy at once!” He called from beyond the door, and your gut twisted in guilt.

A few more heavy kicks and the door creaked.

“They’re almost through,” Viktor said, turning around back to Jayce’s side, “no pressure.”

“That sounds like pressure!” Jayce yelled, working hard to synchronize the runes with the knob. He looked over his shoulder at you, who was now pressing against the door with your weight. With each kick of the door, you huffed, doing your best to keep them from pushing it in.

A rather heavy kick caused you to stumble, but you got right back to it, watching over your shoulder as Jayce closed his eyes and focused on the hextech.

Your attention was pulled back to the door when the cane cracked, and you tried to push against the door, but it was no use. One more kick and you’d be goners.

But the hextech won.

The sound of another surge pushed you against the door, and you panicked at the intensity that felt like it was going to crush you, and then suddenly… you were weightless. You turned to Jayce and Viktor, eyes wide, as you all had begun to float up into the air.

After one more kick, they broke inside, but the surge reached them, too. They stumbled back, while you had started laughing.

It was incredible, absolutely incredible.

“Excuse me, underfoot,” Heimerdinger spoke, pushing past the enforcer and stepping inside his lab, gasping when his eyes landed on you three.

You were nearly touching the ceiling, floating with your belly to the ground and caught slowly spinning between Jayce and Viktor. Your giggles erupted into a fit of laughter, unable to control it as you twisted around in the air.

Jayce flicked a piece of metal, where it floated through a glowing blue orb that was just above you, and it shot out right at Viktor. You collectively gasped, taking everything in.

This was magic and science blurred together, a medley of perfection. Hextech worked. You did it!

“Will you please stop hovering?” Heimerdinger spoke, looking up as you spun your body around, touching and prodding at debris.

It was like swimming, you were able to push yourself, and you accidentally collided against Jayce, the two of you sharing a laugh. You couldn’t quite place it, but as your eyes caught his, you felt something – like a mutual intrigue of each other. Was attraction too strong of a word? Your cheeks reddened, matching his own, then he cleared his throat and turned his gaze away.

“I’m not sure how to do that, sir,” Viktor finally responded, pushing toward you both and smiling as the three of you moved around together smoothly, not touching. Floating. Feeling free.

Like all things in life, it didn’t last. The surged power of the hextech settled, and thankfully it was a smooth descend that kept you three from any broken bones.

Viktor had been wrangled by Heimerdinger, only after a good verbal lashing that included you and Jayce. Blabbering about the rules, ethics and how dangerous this was. At the end, your partner had been whisked away for damage control, trying to explain everything and to keep any of you three from penalties and punishments.

It left you and Jayce to clean up, gathering everything together into the back area of the lab, still in awe over everything that had happened.

Once finished, you stepped out into the brisk night air first, somehow still chipper enough to bounce down the steps while Jayce hustled behind you. You hadn’t been so inclined to do goodbyes, but he stopped you with a hand on your wrist, much like earlier. It sent a shiver up your arm.

“Wait,” he said, and you faced him, battling the redness that crept up your neck as you tried to remain composed, “will you stay?” he asked, grip loosening on your wrist, “to help us, I mean.”

“With the hextech? Of course,” you answered, rolling your eyes playfully, “Who in their right mind would see that and not want to explore it? That was incredible, Jayce. You should be really proud of yourself.”

A smile lifted at the corners of his cheeks, the compliment doing wonders to the insecurities that lie deep within him.

“Wanted to make sure,” he eventually said, dropping your wrist as you both ventured away and into Piltover, toward your homes, “I like you. Well, I mean – you’re good to have around. Smart, you know.”

A giggle bubbled up, a hand lifting to your mouth to try to stifle it, “you’re a dork, just like Viktor.”

Jayce smiled at you, biting down on his bottom lip as the two of you ventured down the streets together, “how long have you two been together?”

The question was quick to fluster you as you met Jayce’s curious gaze. You wondered if the question accidentally slipped out, and you could ignore it, but you could tell he was waiting for an answer.

“Oh, uh, just a couple of months. Officially.” You answered shyly, hands clasped behind your back as you walked side-by-side.

“That’s nice,” he murmured, “...so, has he always been so absurdly intense about science? Don’t get me wrong, I like everything about his ambitions, he’s a great guy for even wanting to help me. He’s just—“

“Surprisingly eccentric?” You laughed, nodding, “when he gets excited about something, it’s like his brain goes haywire. I suppose that’s the way of being an ambitious innovator”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Jayce smiled, quietly admiring you in the moonlight. Studying and memorizing everything he could.

The two of you ended up walking around aimlessly, indulging in small chatter as you shared your hopes and dreams. You shared nearly everything you could about your life, and he told his story about him and his mother, and how that sparked his discovery towards hextech. It was easy to talk to Jayce, to get lost in his voice – he was just so damned kind.

Nearly an hour passed when you finally approached your apartment, which was rather close to the Academy. The two of you had simply taken a few detours around the neighbouring streets.

“Trust me, if you want to get on the dean’s good side, then you need to…” your voice drifted off when your eyes settled on a certain individual sitting outside on a stone bench. Broken cane in his hand and looking up at the sky. “Viktor!” You called out, rushing ahead, “if I had known you were coming back to mine, I would’ve hurried back.”

He turned to look at you two, raising a curious eyebrow and smirking as Jayce slowed his pace behind you, “I have only been here a few minutes, it’s all right.”

You dug around for your keys in your pocket, walking up to him and outstretching an arm for support as he stood. He could walk relatively okay without his cane, but you still enjoyed the way he would lean on you. It became habitual between you two.

“I should leave you both to it,” Jayce cleared his throat, giving an awkward wave as you two ventured toward the apartment.

“Why don’t you come in?” Viktor asked, motioning for him to follow.

You looked up at him in interest, figuring the two of you would be falling asleep the moment you got inside. Nonetheless, you went along with it.

“No, no, it’s late. I don’t want to overstay–”

“Come inside, Jayce. We don’t bite.”

Viktor was convincing enough, or perhaps Jayce had too much of a soft spot for him because he was quick to accept the invitation.

It ended up being a great night, the three of you crowding around your kitchen table. Drinking some nicely aged wine you had hidden away for only the most important occasions. You celebrated your shared success and discussed everything hextech, the possibilities and what you hoped it would provide. You shared laughs, especially as the night went on, and you had all begun to feel a bit delirious at times as the sun began lighting the sky above the horizon and the wine settled in your stomachs.

“Well, I hate to be the one to end the night,” you smiled, sleep beginning to win its war over you, “I’m tired and sore, I should get some sleep.”

“Yeah, I should get back to mine, or, what’s left of it,” Jayce agreed with a dampened chuckle, eyes flickering out of the window to gauge the time with the colour of the skyline.

“Why don’t you stay the night?” The question fell from your lips much too quickly, unsure if it was your overt politeness or an underlying desire that lead it, “if you’re okay with that.” You shot your gaze to Viktor.

It felt like hours, but the few seconds you took to share a look said lots. A silent agreement about your shared feelings for Jayce.

“Sure,” he answered. A shy smile tugged at your lips, and your lover turned back to Jayce.

The man seemed a bit uncertain, and maybe a bit too tipsy to understand the looks thrown at him. His amber eyes jumped between you two, “I’ve intruded far too mu–”

“Stay.” Your voice mixed with Viktor’s almost too perfectly, in complete synchronization.

“Okay.”

The night became a blur. It was Viktor who had led you both to the bedroom, the wine clouding all judgment from the three parties and allowing you to just be. To indulge in each other without wondering what would come next. To allow yourselves to act on attraction and lust with nothing holding you back.

“I’m glad you stayed,” you murmured, lips lingering along the stubble on Jayce’s jawline. Viktor, who was behind you, peppered kisses along your bare shoulders.

“Me too,” Jayce breathed in response, hands careening your naked body and intertwining with Viktor’s fingers with they met over your hip.

“Let’s stop talking,” Viktor mumbled with a quick nip at your skin, the confidence in his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

Jayce wasn’t quite certain how he managed to be wrangled in by you both, but he wasn’t going to complain. Not when, for once, everything felt right.

#jayvik x reader #jayvik x you #jayce talis x reader #viktor x reader #viktor x you #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane jayce #arcane viktor #arcane fanfic #jayvik #jayce x reader #jayce x you #arcane #jayce talis fic #viktor fic #wordsbyspatial #too many tags loool

1K notes · View notes

kathryn-maraudersversion · 3 months ago

Text

Serpents and Stars Pt 1

Summary: You can’t stand the Marauders. They’re obnoxious, arrogant, and entirely too smug for their own good. So why do they keep flirting with you?

Pairing: Poly!Marauders (James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin) x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Warnings: I've never written a fic before so this could be terrible.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt11

If there was one thing you knew to be true, it’s this:

The Marauders were insufferable.

James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin three Gryffindor golden boys who walked around like they owned the castle, smirking at anything with a pulse and charming their way out of every possible punishment.

They were loud. They were cocky.

And worst of all?

They wouldn’t leave you alone.

“Morning, princess,” Sirius drawled as you passed by in the Great Hall, his signature smirk firmly in place.

You rolled your eyes. “Drop dead.”

James, sitting beside him, gasped dramatically. “Oh, sweetheart, if you wanted us dead, you could’ve just asked.”

Remus, the least infuriating of the three, snorted into his coffee. “You really do have a special connection.”

You gave him a flat look. “Yes, Lupin, it’s called hatred.”

Sirius leaned in, his grey eyes glinting mischievously. “Or is it repressed desire?”

You grabbed a piece of toast off your plate and chucked it at his head.

James caught it midair, the show-off, and took a bite. “Thanks, love. You shouldn’t have.”

Your blood boiled.

Why did they insist on flirting with you? Why couldn’t they just leave you alone like every other Gryffindor you couldn’t stand?

But no. Instead, you got this.

And worse? It was every. Damn. Day.

It wasn’t just in the Great Hall.

No, they tormented you, somehow finding you everywhere.

In the library, when you were trying to study.

“Looking gorgeous as ever, love,” James whispered, sliding into the seat across from you.

You slammed your book shut. “Potter, if you don’t leave in the next five seconds, I’ll hex you into next week.”

James grinned. “That means you’d miss me for a whole week.”

You considered launching your inkpot at his head.

Sirius, of course, was no better.

One day, he caught you sneaking out to the Black Lake for a quiet moment alone. Instead of letting you have your peace, he followed you.

He stretched out on the grass beside you, smirking up at the sky. “You know, I think you’re obsessed with me.”

You scoffed. “I think you’ve mistaken ‘loathing’ for ‘obsession.’”

“Ah,” he mused, “but loathing is just passion in disguise.”

You kicked water at him.

He only laughed.

And Remus? Remus was the worst of all.

Because unlike the other two, who were loud and unbearable, he was quietly infuriating.

Remus listened. Remus noticed things.

Like the way you preferred black coffee over tea. The way you chewed the end of your quill when you were concentrating. The way you always hesitated before answering a question in class, even when you knew the answer.

And worst of all?

The way he would look at you. Like he understood something about you that even you didn’t.

It drove you mad.

One day, after an especially awful Potions class (thanks to James knocking over an entire cauldron, making the whole room smell like burnt eggs), you finally snapped.

You whirled on them the moment you stepped out of the classroom.

“Why?” you demanded, glaring at the three of them. “Why do you keep doing this? Annoying me? Flirting with me? What do you want?”

James blinked. “We just like you, love.”

Sirius grinned. “Obviously.”

Remus tilted his head, smiling that soft, knowing smile. “Why? Does it bother you?”

You opened your mouth to say yes, to tell them to leave you alone, to curse them into oblivion.

But the words wouldn’t come.

Because the truth was.

You didn’t hate it.

You didn’t hate them.

And that?

That was the real problem.

Authors note: I might make this a series if people like it idk tho if so I can also make a taglist so just lemme know

693 notes · View notes

sunskisser · 11 months ago

Note

Hi i was wondering if you could do a poly wolfstar fic with a fem reader where she feels left out of the relationship because they start to drifting apart which then leads to them breaking up. But then Sirius and Remus realises what they did wrong but reader just doesnt want to because shes scared they'll leave her out again.💗

hi angel! thank you for the request ♡

meant to be | poly!wolfstar

part 1 | part 2

tw: angst

poly!wolfstar x reader

You lean against the doorway, quietly observing them. Something you always seem to be doing these days. Your eyes rake over Sirius, with his legs propped up on one arm of the couch while his head lies in Remus’ lap.

Sirius laughs, and the smile Remus gives him while he strokes his hair is so full of love. It makes you wonder if Remus thought he personally strung up all the stars in the sky or something.

You try not to let it get to you but it does anyway, that same stinging sensation in your chest, as though someone had pierced your heart.

It felt silly to feel as hurt as you did. The boys were so hopelessly in love, it was endearing. They had claimed to love you the same way too just a few weeks ago. When they first proclaimed their love, it felt surreal. Perfect. But now, it felt like a chore.

Not to you, never to you. Loving them would never feel like a chore to you, you were sure of that. But what if they felt that way? What if you were just an experiment gone wrong?

Maybe you were just overthinking the whole thing. Or maybe this relationship was a mistake.

Sirius and Remus perfectly complemented each other already, it was like Remus was a container and Sirius was water. And you were the lid that just never fit right. Remus was calm, peaceful, loving. Sirius was fun, snarky, and full of affection.

What were you? Just a random girl who had the fortune of stumbling across the lovely couple.

They hadn’t done anything in particular to upset you, they never would. But it was the way they instinctively walked closer together, their fingers interlaced. The way they glanced at each other, having silent conversations you would never understand. How they seemed to know everything about the other, from every inch of his skin to every thought in his head.

It was like they could see colours you couldn’t see, speak a language you didn’t understand.

You told yourself it was fine, they had just known each other longer. They stayed in the same dorm room and took the same classes, of course they were bound to be closer.

But wasn’t that exactly the problem? Their lives were inexplicably intertwined, and it felt like you were trying to wedge yourself in. It left you feeling like the side character in your own story.

You heard your name and snapped out of your daze, blinking as you find Sirius grinning stupidly at you from where he lazed on the sofa. His expression softens when your eyes meet his. “Love, come over here! We’ve been looking for you all day.”

That was a lie, your brain screamed at you. You spotted them chatting in lessons, eating together at the Great Hall, taking a walk in the garden. They were not looking for you, it was a lie.

Remus smiles softly, beckoning you over. You will yourself to move, to go sit with your boyfriends, but it’s like your legs have turned to stone.

You silently stand there, watching them. You try to muster a smile or open your mouth to say something. But nothing comes out except for a quiet wrangled sort of noise.

Remus looks at you strangely. Sirius frowns, his eyebrows creasing. He pushes his palms down on the couch, elbows buckling as he sits up a bit. “Y/N, baby? Why don’t you come on over?”

You watch Remus gently move his fingers to Sirius’ forehead to smoothen the lines between his eyebrows, and him turning around to give the sandy-haired boy a lovesick smile. That simple action causes the last ounce of willpower in you to break.

You clench your fists to stop your hands from trembling as you suck in a deep breath, feeling the ache in your chest start to grow. Was it jealousy? Anger? Hurt?

Sirius seemed ready to move to your side right that moment, looking utterly confused as to what was wrong. But Remus kept his hand wrapped around Sirius’ bicep, a silent order to let you be.

“Angel,” Remus breathes quietly. You visibly flinch at the term of endearment, not missing the flash of hurt across his face which he quickly replaced with his usual stoicism.

Your heart was thudding so loudly you wondered if the boys could hear it. You swallow the lump in your throat, stuck between wanting to burn the bridges between you or to walk across them.

“I…” your voice comes out scratchy as you try to explain yourself. You clear your throat, watching Sirius’s frown deepen and Remus bite his lip anxiously.

“I don’t think I want to,” you say quietly, feeling your heart sink to your stomach. You knew Remus would understand, always the perceptive one. It was obvious in the way his eyes widened and his grip on Sirius loosened.

But Sirius just tilts his head, looking at you quizzically. “Okay…? You can sit on the other couch then. You can sit anywhere you want to, love.”

You wince, glancing at Remus for help. But he’s looking at you with that sad look on his face now, the one he only wears when he sees Sirius crying after receiving a letter from home, or when you show up at Hogwarts after the holidays with bruises all over. Did it really hurt him that much?

A sigh escapes you as you decide to try to be gentle with it. That’s the least you could do, after the boys had so generously let you in on their already perfect relationship. You suck in a shaky breath, mustering the courage to croak out the words.

“It’s not about the couch, Siri. I… I mean this,” you mutter, gesturing between the three of you. Immediately, your head ducks down, scared of what you’ll find if you look back up at them.

An uncomfortable silence is cast over the room, the kind that makes your skin crawl. A beat of quietness passes before you find the strength to raise your head, peeking at the boys. Sirius looks cracked open, his face a picture of anguish.

“What?” he rasps out. Remus’ features are tight with something that looks like grief, his hand ghosting over Sirius’ ankle to provide the little comfort he can.

The croakiness of his voice makes your heart feel like it’s being cleaved in two. But you knew you had to do this. For your sake, and for theirs.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you mumble in a rush, eager to get it out and not have to endure watching them in pain for too long. Sirius stays silent, his lips pursed so tight you think he might burst into tears.

“Why?” Remus asks quietly, gaze still trained onto yours as he rubs circles onto Sirius’ ankle comfortingly. “I… I don’t fit in. You guys are perfect for each other. But I just don’t fit in,” you admit, feeling guilt clawing at you. “This just isn’t working,”

“We’ll make it work,” Sirius says immediately, and the sincerity in his voice almost makes you want to concede. But you know that’s not possible. “Just… just tell us what we’re doing wrong, we’ll fix it. I swear.”

Remus nods slowly, looking at you expectantly. The hope on their faces make you feel like the worst person in the world as you give them all you have to offer - a small shake of your head.

“But love,” Sirius murmurs, his voice cracking. “Why… what… where did we mess up?”

“It wasn’t you guys,” you say immediately, even though it was. You just can’t bear to see the pain etched on the black-haired boy’s face. “It’s just not meant to be. We’re better off as friends.”

“But we love you,” Remus speaks up quietly. Sirius nods earnestly.

“I can’t,” you say, relieved that your voice comes out evenly. It’s a miracle with how hard you’re fighting to hold back tears. “I can’t do this. The both of you are always together, and I'm not blaming you for it. It’s in your nature to be together-”

“It’s in your nature to be with us too, dove,” Sirius says, the anguish in his voice leaving to make way for pure sadness.

“It’s not,” your voice coming out as a pathetic sob. “I’m not like you guys. I’m not fun, I don’t take the same classes, I don’t ever get what you mean. We’re just not right for each other.”

You think you can see something break in Remus when you utter that last sentence. Sirius bites down on his quivering lip and wraps his arms around himself, as though physically restraining himself from pulling you into a hug.

This isn’t the first time they’ve ignored what you said, isn’t the first time they didn’t respond. It happened on a daily basis, for Merlin’s sake. But this is the only time it hurt as much as it did right now.

You glance at them one last time, heart breaking at their pained expressions. But none of them say a word as you turn around and leave the room, letting you go all too easily.

Perhaps you were just not meant to be.

2K notes · View notes

cheftsunoda · 4 days ago

Note

Hello! 🧚🏼

I'm not sure if you have any specific rules or guidelines when it comes to requesting, however I absolutely adore all of your poly fics and I've reread them so often! I'm just wondering if you'd ever consider doing a Yuki x Pierre x Reader? I'm open to anything with them honeslty. Your writing is so so good!! <3

If you aren't okay with it, that's absolutely no worries at all! ⭐️✨

(anything for you baby doll) (u made me blush and i hope you enjoy the fic)

haute and bothered — pg10 + yt22

smau + blurbs

pierre gasly x !hadjar fashion editor reader x yuki tsunoda

isack hadjar x !older sister fashion editor reader

YN Hadjar is Vogue France’s sharpest editor and the undisputed definition of elegance. A force in the fashion world, she’s used to front rows, flashing cameras, and never being the one caught off guard. But when she crosses paths with her younger brother’s teammate and his best friend at a fashion event, a playful request for style advice quickly unravels into something far more complicated—and far more intoxicating.

fc : aylin elma + various pinterest gals

before you read! : isack + yuki are still teammates for plot purposes— thank u, love u, bye

—

yn_hadjar

liked by isackhadjar, voguefrance, olliebearman and 1,205,777 others.

yn_hadjar : where to next? ✈️💐

—

view 127,045 other comments.

isackhadjar : how about to come see your little brother and go to one of his races? 🙄

liked by yn_hadjar

↳ yn_hadjar : we are literally going to the same event tonight and i’ve cleared my weekend for you. can we please keep the dramatics to a minimum?

liked by isackhadjar

username0 : yn! will you be dressing isack for the event?

↳ yn_hadjar : obv. i cannot be seen with him in something that he came up with.

↳ isackhadjar : she literally used to set out my clothes for school the next day and she still does it for me now.

liked by yn_hadjar and username0

username15 : everyone shut up. these two r so important to me.

voguefrance : our girllll 😻🔥

liked by yn_hadjar

visacashapprb : we can’t wait for our fave sibling duo to be reunited 💙

liked by yn_hadjar and isackhadjar

jacquemus : we 💛 you!

liked by yn_hadjar

olliebearman : my favorite fashion icon

liked by yn_hadjar

↳ yn_hadjar : my favorite f1 rookie

liked by olliebearman

↳ isack_hadjar : excusez-moi???

liked by yn_hadjar and olliebearman

yn_hadjar : he goes out of his way to read my editorials. do you???

liked by olliebearman

↳ isack_hadjar : no comment.

lewishamilton : 🔥🔥

liked by yn_hadjar

↳ isack_hadjar : can you two date so he can be part of the family?

liked by lewishamilton and yn_hadjar

yn_hadjar : menace

alexandrasaintmleux : si belle ma chérie <3

liked by yn_hadjar

—

yn_hadjar added posts to her story!

seen by isackhadjar, olliebearman, yukitsunoda0511 & 1,809,253 others.

{caption 1 : @/hugo_official event tonight} {caption 2 : someone tell him to take this off and put on what i pick out before i disown him.}

olliebearman : just disown him and adopt me as your brother

liked by yn_hadjar

yn_hadjar : deal

isackhadjar : i kinda got ts on tho

liked by yn_hadjar

yn_hadjar : you look like a gym teacher not like you’re about to be on a red carpet representing your team.

isackhadjar : fine then what event would you approve this outfit for

yn_hadjar : save it for your mid life crisis era

visacashapprb : thank you for making him change, yn.

liked by yn_hadjar

yukitsunoda0511 : can’t wait for my styling class you promised :)

liked by yn_hadjar

yn_hadjar : can’t wait for that meal you promised to make me after

pierregasly : si jolie mon amour

liked by yn_hadjar

yn_hadjar : merci mon angeeeee

—

I didn’t knock. I stormed into Isack’s hotel room like a woman on a mission—because I was. We had exactly ninety minutes until the Hugo event, and if my beloved younger brother showed up looking like a clown, it would somehow reflect badly on me. And sure enough, the universe really said, “Let’s test her.” I stopped cold. He turned around slowly, like he’d been waiting for this moment. Like he knew exactly what he’d done.

“Isack.”

He was wearing a shiny, deep red satin shirt, only half-buttoned, tucked into chaotically patterned pants that clashed so hard I actually squinted. And to top it all off? White Oakleys. Inside.

“What. The hell. Are you wearing.”

He gave me the most infuriating smile known to man. “It’s giving ‘fashion-forward driver off-duty,’ no?”

“It’s giving ’man lost in the sale bin at a Las Vegas souvenir shop.’” I walked in and tossed my bag on the bed. “Take. It. Off.”

"YN. Come on. It's kind of iconic."

“It’s kind of traumatic.”

He laughed, clearly proud of himself. “I wanted to see how mad I could make you before you threatened violence.”

“You’re so lucky we share DNA.”

I yanked open the garment bag hanging on the back of the door and pulled out the actual look he was supposed to wear— tailored black trousers, the clean charcoal turtleneck, and that sharp Hugo jacket that made him look like he belonged in a campaign. My campaign.

“You’re wearing this. Non-negotiable.”

“Jeez. Do you treat all your models like this?”

“No. Just the ones who try to show up to a luxury fashion event dressed like Pitbull’s stylist during a midlife crisis.”

He muttered something under his breath as he started unbuttoning the shirt, but I was too busy hiding a smile to care. Honestly, I didn’t know what was waiting for us downstairs or who else would be there. I just knew that if Isack made his red carpet debut in that outfit, I’d have to resign from fashion entirely. And that was simply not an option.

—

The Hugo event was in full swing by the time we arrived—cameras flashing, music pulsing, champagne being passed around like water. Isack, thankfully, looked decent in the outfit I’d forced him into. Better than decent, actually. Smug little bastard knew it too. We stepped inside the venue and he immediately peeled off to talk to someone from the team. I stayed behind near the bar, doing a lazy scan of the room. Models, stylists, influencers, the usual mix. I was half-distracted answering an email when I heard Isack’s voice again—closer this time.

“YN,” he said, a little too casually. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

I looked up. Next to him stood Yuki Tsunoda, who I recognized from the grid but had never actually met. He was dressed immaculately—double-breasted navy suit, crisp collar, Hugo brooch pinned just so. And standing beside him, just slightly behind, was Pierre Gasly. All charm and smirk, wearing that kind of black turtleneck that only worked when you were French and stupidly handsome.

Yuki gave me a polite smile. “Hi. Teammate-slash-regretful Oakley enabler.”

I blinked, caught off guard by how quick he was. “So you’re the one who told him the sunglasses were a good idea.”

Yuki nodded solemnly. “I can’t be trusted before 6 p.m.”

I laughed—genuinely. “Well. At least you’re self-aware.”

Isack, annoyingly pleased with himself, gestured between us. “YN, Yuki. Yuki, YN. This is my very controlling older sister. She works at Vogue. Bosses people around. Yells at me a lot.”

“I keep him alive,” I corrected.

Yuki’s eyes twinkled. “She yells fashionably.”

Pierre stepped forward then, offering his hand. “And I’m just the plus-one. Pierre.”

“Vogue France,” I replied, shaking it with a tilt of my head. “YN Hadjar. And no one is just the plus-one if they wear a turtleneck that well.”

He grinned, teeth flashing. “Merci. I dressed to impress.”

“You succeeded.”

Isack groaned like we were already too much. “I shouldn’t have introduced any of you. I can feel the ego growing in the room.”

“Relax,” I said, taking a flute of champagne from a passing tray. “If anything, this might be the most normal group here.”

Yuki raised his glass. “Cheers to that.”

—

The party had started to blur. Most of the photographers had cleared out, the music had slowed to something low and hypnotic, and people were either drunk, half-asleep on velvet couches, or deep in conversation with whoever they were hoping to leave with. I’d lost Isack about an hour ago—probably cornered by a PR rep or sneaking off to find sliders. I was tucked into a quieter corner of the venue, perched on a velvet bench with a glass of wine in hand, shoes dangling from my fingers. And somehow—like gravity knew exactly what it was doing—Yuki and Pierre ended up there with me. They’d brought more drinks. I wasn’t even sure when they left to get them.

“This is your version of relaxing?” Pierre asked, settling in beside me with one arm stretched along the back of the booth. His thigh brushed mine casually—but it stayed there. “Watching the fashion crowd fall apart after midnight?”

“It’s better than the Met Gala,” I teased, swirling the wine in my glass. “No one’s pretending to be sober.”

Yuki laughed, sitting on my other side, close enough for our shoulders to touch. “You really know everyone in this world, don’t you?”

“I’m paid to,” I said, shrugging. “It’s part of the job. Know the faces, the designers, the drama. And make sure the magazine doesn’t implode.”

Pierre leaned in slightly, eyes warm. “So what happens when we ask you for your professional opinion?”

I arched a brow. “You mean you’re not just here for the free champagne and Isack’s tragic outfit reveal?”

Yuki smirked. “That was worth the invite alone.”

Pierre tilted his head. “But seriously. If someone… let’s say two very handsome drivers, wanted to evolve their wardrobes. Less teamwear, more… effortless Parisian heartthrob—could you help?”

I looked between the two of them—Pierre’s charming grin, Yuki’s quiet curiosity. The idea was ridiculous. And kind of… adorable.

“You want me to style you?” I asked, pretending to sound skeptical, even as something fluttered in my chest.

Pierre gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Why not? You have the eye. And we trust your taste.”

Yuki added, voice a little softer now, “We trust you.”

That—that—was what did it. The way he said it. Like it wasn’t a throwaway line. I let the silence sit for a second, the energy shifting in that charged, unspoken way you don’t quite want to look at too directly.

“Fine,” I said, lifting my glass. “But if I style you, you have to give me full control. No last-minute Oakleys. No sneakers with suits. No team caps unless we’re on a track.”

Pierre lifted his glass to mine. “Deal.”

Yuki smiled, slow and sure. “As long as you’re the one undressing us.”

I choked on my wine.

Pierre smacked him lightly on the shoulder, laughing while very pointedly not denying anything. And me? I just sat there between them, flushed and flustered, fully aware I might be in so much trouble. And maybe… maybe I didn’t mind one bit.

—

The fitting studio I booked was quiet—no interns, no stylists, no chaos. Just warm lighting, racks of carefully curated looks, a stack of espresso cups on the side table, and two very smug drivers sprawled across the velvet couch like they were born for it.

“Okay,” I said, clapping once for drama. “Fashion boot camp begins now.”

Pierre stretched his arms behind his head. “I’m ready to be transformed.”

Yuki leaned back with that deceptively innocent look on his face. “Are you going to watch us change, or…?”

“Don’t tempt me,” I muttered under my breath, already pulling hangers from the rack.

I handed Yuki a dark forest green suit with a satin lapel and shoved Pierre a moody charcoal turtleneck and tailored check trousers. They disappeared behind the curtain with too many smirks and zero urgency, clearly enjoying how flustered I already was. Pierre stepped out first, tugging the sleeves into place, and honestly? He looked unfairly good. Like something from a magazine I’d kill to shoot for.

He turned in front of the mirror, then looked at me over his shoulder. “Well?”

I crossed my arms. “Could use a belt.”

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You gonna help me with that too?”

Before I could answer, Yuki appeared—and my mouth actually fell open.

The suit fit like it was tailored to his existence. Clean lines, sharp collar, a single undone button at the top. He noticed my stare immediately.

“Too much?” he asked, feigning bashfulness.

I blinked. “It’s… dangerous, actually.”

Yuki smirked, stepping closer. “Dangerous how?”

“Dangerous like I might start taking back my professionalism clause.”

Pierre came to stand on my other side. “Remind me—did that clause include hands-on adjustments?”

He was teasing, but there was something in the air now. He was close. They both were. Close enough that I could feel the warmth of them, smell their cologne. It was suddenly hard to focus on fashion.

“You’re both ridiculous,” I muttered, reaching to adjust the lapel on Yuki’s jacket, fingers brushing his chest. He didn’t move. Then I turned to Pierre, smoothing the shoulder seam, just barely grazing his collarbone. He didn’t move either.

“You’re blushing,” Yuki said softly, and I hated that he was right.

“You’re both standing way too close,” I whispered.

“Maybe we like it here,” Pierre replied, voice low, steady.

It hit me then—how easy this had become. The three of us in a quiet studio, skin brushing, laughter on our lips, heat simmering just below the surface. I had invited them here to play stylist, to stay in control. But somewhere in the middle of the zippers and buttons and side glances, I’d lost my upper hand. And for once… I didn’t really care.

—

I was trying to play it cool. Trying to pretend I didn’t just spend the last hour dressing two of the most dangerously attractive men alive and getting thoroughly wrecked by the way they looked in my clothes. Professionally speaking, of course. But then Pierre ran a hand through his hair and leaned against the mirror like he belonged in a Saint Laurent campaign, and Yuki looked at me with that quiet, unreadable expression of his—the one that always made me feel like he already knew what I was thinking.

“You didn’t give us a grade,” Pierre said. “On our final looks.”

I exhaled, tucking my phone back into my pocket. “You passed. Barely.”

Yuki grinned. “That sounds like a dinner-worthy score.”

I looked between them. “You want to go to dinner like this? Fully styled?”

Pierre tilted his head. “You did say no team caps. We’re trying to be on our best behavior.”

Yuki stepped closer, casual but intentional. “Come on. We’ll feed you. You’ve been working hard. You’ve earned a glass of wine that doesn’t taste like it came from the Hugo party’s gift bag.”

I raised a brow. “Are you bribing me with carbs and alcohol?”

Pierre smiled slowly. “Is it working?”

It was. God, it so was. And maybe it was the lighting or the way they were both looking at me—equal parts challenge and invitation—but suddenly dinner didn’t feel like just dinner. It felt like… the next page of something we weren’t ready to name yet. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, fighting a smile. “Fine. But if we’re going out, you’re both paying. For emotional labor. And trauma. From Isack’s outfit this morning.”

Yuki laughed. “Fair.”

Pierre offered his arm like a damn movie character. “Lead the way, Hadjar.”

I took it—of course I did—and let Yuki fall into step beside me. And as the three of us stepped out into the night, our reflections in the shop window caught my eye. We looked good together.

—

Dinner was supposed to be normal. A low-key place tucked into a side street in the 7th arrondissement. Candlelight flickering against the windows, soft jazz humming in the background, and a little corner table that Pierre insisted on—for privacy, he said with a wink. I’d let them order for me. I was too busy trying to process what exactly this was. A friendly dinner? A thank-you? A tease? I didn’t know. But I was wearing heels again. And lip gloss. So it wasn’t nothing.

Pierre had undone the top two buttons of his shirt, gold chain peeking through. Yuki looked effortless in a crisp white tee under a jacket I hadn’t even realized I picked for him earlier. They looked like trouble. Like my trouble. Conversation was easy—almost too easy. Laughter flowing, legs brushing occasionally beneath the table. We talked about the grid, my job, fashion week disasters, and how Yuki once fell asleep mid-photoshoot.

“I was jet-lagged,” he said, totally unapologetic.

Pierre chuckled. “The stylist threatened to cry. He still follows Yuki on Instagram.”

Yuki smirked, taking a sip of wine, and then leaned toward me just a little. “Would you cry if we fell asleep during a fitting?”

“I’d make sure you didn’t wake up in anything flattering,” I shot back.

That earned a soft laugh—and then, casually, effortlessly, Yuki let his hand fall under the table. And found my knee. My brain short-circuited. It wasn’t a graze. It wasn’t an accident. His fingers curled lightly just above the hem of my skirt, warm and unhurried. Just… there. Not possessive. Not demanding. Just… interested. I swallowed. Pierre didn’t notice at first. He was halfway through a story about a party and a very confused DJ. But then his gaze drifted down. He saw the way I shifted in my seat, just slightly. The way Yuki’s hand stayed. And his expression changed. Slowly. He smirked. Looked back up at me.

“You okay?” he asked, innocently.

I cleared my throat. “Mhm. Wine’s strong.”

Pierre leaned closer, voice low. “Is it the wine… or the company?”

I didn’t answer. Because Yuki was tracing slow, gentle circles against my thigh now, his face unreadable, like we weren’t in a room full of people. Pierre’s foot tapped mine under the table. Light. Intentional. Okay. So I wasn’t imagining this. I set down my fork, took a long sip of wine, and smiled—sweet, measured, practiced.

“Both,” I said. “Obviously.”

They didn’t push. Not yet. Just sat back, smug and satisfied, the tension between us like a stretched silk ribbon, ready to snap. And I realized then—this dinner wasn’t just dinner.

—

The air outside had that warm, early summer weight to it—the kind that clung to your skin like a secret. We left the restaurant slowly, like no one wanted to break whatever fragile thing had formed between the wine and the way Yuki’s hand lingered on my thigh. Pierre walked on my right, close enough that our arms brushed every few steps. Yuki was on my left, quiet but there, his hand grazing the small of my back as we waited for the crosswalk light to change. Paris looked soft at night. Golden. But the silence between us buzzed with anything but calm.

“You live around here?” Pierre asked casually, like he didn’t already know from the reservation name and the way I’d reflexively glanced down the street.

“Mhm,” I replied, lips curled just slightly. “About five minutes.”

Yuki looked over. “We could walk you.”

“You are walking me.”

“Then maybe we finish the job.”

I bit back a smile. When we reached my building, I stopped on the steps, keys dangling between my fingers. They both turned toward me, waiting. Expectant, but never pushing.

“You could come up,” I said carefully, not looking at either of them yet. “Just for a bit. If you want.”

Pierre tilted his head, slow grin spreading. “Are you inviting us up because you want help reorganizing your closet?”

I looked at him. “I’m inviting you up because I had dinner with two men who managed to flirt, emotionally destabilize me, and look criminally good in every outfit I styled. So. No. Not for the closet.”

Yuki’s smile was softer. But his eyes held something heavier. “We don’t have to come in.”

I finally met his gaze. “I know.”

And I did. That was the thing. There was no pressure here—just possibility. The kind of quiet, magnetic maybe that I’d spent years writing off. But tonight? With them? It didn’t feel like a risk. It felt inevitable. I pushed the door open. And when I looked back over my shoulder, they were already following me in—Pierre with that devil-may-care confidence, Yuki with that quiet steadiness that somehow made me feel safer than I expected.

I closed the door behind us, letting the soft click of the lock settle between us. Pierre wandered further in, glancing around with casual curiosity—his fingertips dragging across the back of my sofa like he was trying to read the room through touch. Yuki stayed near the door. Watching me. Always watching.

“You really live like a Vogue editor,” Pierre murmured, picking up a coffee table book and flipping it open. “Minimalist. Expensive.”

“I try,” I said, leaning against the entry wall, pulse fluttering under my skin. “Want the tour?”

Yuki raised an eyebrow. “You offering… the apartment? Or something else?”

I blinked at him, and something must’ve shifted in my face, because he smiled like he already knew my answer.

“I don’t play games,” I said, quieter this time.

Pierre had crossed the room by then. He was in front of me before I realized how fast he’d moved, his hand ghosting along my hip. “Good. Because I’m not here to waste time.”

Yuki came closer too—slow and measured. His fingertips grazed mine as he passed me, just a brush, but I felt it in my spine.

“I just want to make sure you want this,” he said, voice low. “That this isn’t about wine or adrenaline or proving a point.”

I looked at him. Then Pierre. Two different energies. One storm. One fire. And somehow, I wanted to get lost in both.

“I invited you up, didn’t I?” I asked.

Pierre smiled like I’d handed him something precious. He leaned in first—his lips brushing mine, warm and teasing. Not claiming. Just tasting. Yuki’s hand slid up the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair. His kiss came next. Slower. Like he had all night. Like I could take as long as I needed to decide. But I didn’t need long. I reached for both of them—tugging Pierre closer by his shirt, letting Yuki pull me against his chest, our bodies finding a rhythm I hadn’t even realized we’d been building all night. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t messy. It was intentional. Lips on my neck. Fingers on my waist. The kind of warmth that blooms low in your belly and makes you forget your own name. Somehow we made it to the bedroom without breaking apart too long. Jackets hit the floor. Pierre’s chain dangled against my skin. Yuki’s voice whispered things in Japanese that I didn’t understand but felt in my bones. They treated me like something rare. Reverent. Like I was the thing they’d both been waiting for. And when everything finally faded into soft moans and tangled limbs, when my skin was flushed and my breath shaky, I realized—This wasn’t just about pleasure. It was about belonging.

—

yn_hadjar

liked by isackhadjar, yukitsunoda0511, pierregasly & 2,090,555 others.

yn_hadjar : jet lagged as fuck so have a photo dump

—

view 151,090 other comments.

chanelofficial : always timeless 🩷🤍

liked by yn_hadjar

username0 : am i delusional or does that look like yuki in the bed??

↳ username15 : i thought the same thing but then the other pic looks like pierre

username0 : oh to be in a yukierre sandwich

isackhadjar : why is there an unknown man in your bed?

↳ yn_hadjar : who said he is unknown?

isackhadjar : i am ending it all

yukitsunoda0511 : don’t remember you taking that

liked by yn_hadjar

↳ yn_hadjar : u were 😴

username0 : not delusional.

pierregasly : white looks good on me, no?

liked by yn_hadjar

↳ yn_hadjar : you look good in anything

lilymhe : you are so beautiful it is insane

liked by yn_hadjar

↳ yn_hadjar : you are so kind 🥺

—

yukitsunoda0511

liked by yn_hadjar, pierregasly, isackhadjar & 1,220,005 others.

yukitsunoda0511 : dubyeeeeee

—

view 52,045 other comments.

pierregasly : still have frosting up my nose

liked by yukitsunoda0511 and yn_hadjar

↳ yn_hadjar : my bad

username0 : unexpected trio on a vacay together??

yn_hadjar : was not prepared for a thirst trap on my feed

liked by yukitsunoda0511

↳ yukitsunoda0511 : don't act like you don't like it

liked by yn_hadjar

isackhadjar : are you just a professional third wheel now?

liked by yukitsunoda0511

↳ yukitsunoda0511 : mmm if third wheeling involves being apart of it then sure

username0 : YUKI

—

pierregasly added a post to his story!

seen by isackhadjar, yn_hadjar, yukitsunoda0511 & 2,500,003 others.

—

yn_hadjar added posts to her story!

seen by alexandrasaintmleux, pierregasly, isackhadjar & 3,407,001 others.

{caption 1 : never let me drive in the sand} {caption 2 : i don't want to leave}

pierregasly : you are so beautiful

liked by yn_hadjar

isackhadjar : wait- why are you in dubai too??

↳ yn_hadjar : happened to be over here for something with work

↳ isackhadjar : oh ok

↳ isackhadjar : you look beautiful though ma sœur

liked by yn_hadjar

yn_hadjar : first nice thing you've said in years. love you

liked by isackhadjar

alexandrasaintmleux : i think i am finally catching on here;)

liked by yn_hadjar

↳ yn_hadjar : glad someone is because isack sure isn't

yukitsunoda0511 : 美少女

liked by yn_hadjar

—

The desert stretched out endlessly beneath a blazing sky, waves of sand rolling like golden ocean tides. The sun was beginning to dip, casting long shadows and painting everything with a soft, honeyed glow. Yuki, Pierre, and I had escaped the noise of the city for a few hours, trading skyscrapers for silence and luxury for raw nature. We stopped the jeep on the crest of a dune, and the world felt impossibly vast and quiet. The wind whispered through the sand, carrying a scent of earth and something wild. I kicked off my shoes, letting the warm grains sift between my toes. Pierre pulled a blanket from the back of the jeep and spread it out. We settled down close, the three of us a small island of warmth in the wide, empty desert. Yuki reached out and took my hand, fingers threading together naturally, as if this had always been meant to be.

“I could stay here forever,” he murmured, eyes soft in the fading light.

I leaned into him, resting my head against his shoulder. Pierre draped an arm around both of us, and suddenly the desert didn’t feel so big anymore. It felt like home. As the sun sank lower, the sky exploded into color—pinks, oranges, and purples bleeding into one another. We sat in comfortable silence, watching the horizon burn and cool at once. Yuki whispered something funny, and Pierre laughed, the sound low and warm. The first stars began to blink awake above us, shy at first, then confident, until the entire sky was a glittering dome. I felt their hands tighten around mine, grounding me in that perfect moment. The desert was endless and timeless, but right there, wrapped in their arms, I knew exactly where I belonged.

—

The soft chime of the boutique’s doorbell barely registered as I stepped inside, still savoring the warmth of the Dubai sun on my skin. Yuki and Pierre followed close behind, both grinning like they were up to something—which, knowing them, they definitely were.

I was halfway through scanning the latest collection when Pierre’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Hey, have you seen that new limited edition bag from [your favorite designer]? The one with the gold clasp and the little pearls?”

I laughed, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, I’ve seen it. It’s beautiful, but honestly, a little impractical.”

Yuki raised an eyebrow. “Says the Vogue editor who probably writes about impractical all the time.”

Pierre winked. “We know you’ve been drooling over it for months.”

I tried to brush it off, but my heart sped up. I hadn’t said much—it was just a tiny detail I’d mentioned once, months ago, during a dinner with Yuki and Pierre. I never expected them to remember. Yuki tugged me toward a quiet corner of the boutique, where a sleek black box rested on a velvet cushion. My breath caught. Pierre opened the box slowly, revealing the bag—exactly the one I’d admired in magazines, the one I’d secretly dreamed of owning.

“Surprise,” Pierre said softly, watching my face light up.

I stared, speechless, the words caught somewhere between shock and joy.

“You actually remembered,” I finally whispered.

Yuki chuckled, sliding an arm around my waist. “Of course we did. You’re kind of hard to forget.”

I reached out, touching the bag like it was something fragile, something magical. “This is… you guys didn’t have to.”

Pierre grinned. “We wanted to.”

I laughed, eyes glossy, heart full. “You two are seriously impossible. But I love you for it.”

—

The soft glow of candlelight flickered across the table, casting warm shadows on crystal glasses and polished silverware. The restaurant was quiet, tucked away in a secluded corner of the hotel, and for once, the world outside felt miles away. Yuki reached across the table, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear. His touch was tender, deliberate, and it sent a shiver down my spine. Pierre caught my hand next, his fingers curling around mine with a quiet strength that grounded me. The way they both looked at me—like I was the only person in the room—made my heart swell.

“So,” Pierre said softly, voice low and steady, “how does it feel? Being spoiled by us?”

I laughed, eyes shimmering. “Like I’m living in a dream I never want to wake up from.”

Yuki’s grin was slow, mischievous. “Good. Because we’re just getting started.”

We talked through the courses, sharing stories and stolen glances. Every laugh, every brush of skin, pulled us closer. There was something electric in the way their hands found mine under the table—light touches that spoke of promises and possibilities.

Later, as the waiter cleared the plates, Yuki leaned in, whispering, “You make even the quietest moments feel unforgettable.”

Pierre’s eyes softened as he added, “We want to be part of your every moment, YN.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, feeling overwhelmed with everything and nothing all at once. This wasn’t just a dinner. It was a beginning.

“I want that, too,” I whispered back. “With both of you.”

Yuki’s smile was pure warmth. Pierre’s fingers tightened around mine.

—

f1gossipgirls

89,003 likes.

f1gossipgirls : Things looked a little extra on the fashion front this morning—coincidence? We think not. @/yn_hadjar, Vogue France’s top editor (and big sister to Isack Hadjar), is in the paddock today… and suddenly the boys remembered what a steamer is. We spotted more linen, more color, and more intentional fits than we’ve seen all season. Let’s just say—if this is the YN Hadjar effect, we are absolutely here for it. Fashion queens, please stand up.

—

view 508 other comments.

username0 : ISACK-omg. @/yn_hadjar...do you want a sister in law??

↳ yn_hadjar : if you take over the duty of steaming his clothes...welcome to the fam

username15 : aw yn and ollie!! he rlly is her favorite rookie

↳ yn_hadjar : that's my boy. i don't play about him.

liked by olliebearman

username10 : it isn't the YN effect for Yuki and Pierre- it's the girlfriend effect.

liked by yn_hadjar, yukitsunoda0511 and pierregasly

username10 : OH MY GHDFNDKJ

isackhadjar : she held me down and threatened me to put on what she picked out.

↳ yn_hadjar : and clearly i did you a favor bc there is a comment section full of women waiting for you

isackhadjar : fair

oscarpiastri : yn i did not get the memo that you were here today. pls don't hurt me

↳ yn_hadjar : i forgive you

yukitsunoda0511 : she literally dressed me this morning so yes it is because of yn. everyone say thank you, yn!!

liked by yn_hadjar, pierregasly and f1gossipgirls

pierregasly : it is common courtesy to look good for someone as beautiful as yn

liked by yn_hadjar and yukitsunoda0511

↳ isackhadjar : barf. she is just my sister. not god.

↳ yukitsunoda0511 : ive seen god and god is a woman.

liked by yn_hadjar and pierregasly

username8 : YUKIIIIBD :fj

—

yn_hadjar

liked by isackhadjar, olliebearman, pierregasly & 3,030,053 others.

yn_hadjar : so cutesy

—

view 115,023 other comments.

isackhadjar : ollie and i carried this post

liked by yn_hadjar

↳ isackhadjar : also why are you letting random men hold our dog??

↳ pierregasly : you talk about me like im some common whore

liked by yn_hadjar

alexandrasaintmleux : you are ethereal. i am in love

liked by yn_hadjar

olliebearman : you are right. the gucci wrap was necessary for the outfit

↳ olliebearman : you ATE

liked by yn_hadjar

↳ yn_hadjar : add to the folder of reasons why ollie is my fave

yukitsunoda0511 : i do not remember anything from karaoke and i am glad i do not

liked by yn_hadjar

↳ yn_hadjar : i have videos if you need reminded

↳ maxverstappen1 : give them to me.

↳ lando : need

↳ olliebearman : pls share with the class

—

I was curled up on the couch with Yuki, his arm around my waist and his stupidly warm hands resting under the hem of my t-shirt, tracing lazy circles against my skin like he had no plans of moving for the next decade. We were watching the most unhinged documentary, but I’d let him pick because I liked hearing his dramatic commentary. It was peaceful. Dreamy. Domestic. Then the front door slammed open like we were in a horror movie.

“I BROUGHT DONUTS!” I heard Isack yell from the hallway.

I blinked. Yuki didn’t even flinch. He just muttered, “You gave him a key?”

“No,” I hissed back, still fully horizontal. “He stole it after fashion week. I just… forgot to take it back.”

And then Isack appeared in the doorway. Bag of donuts. Sunglasses on his head. Immediately offended.

“WHAT the actual hell is going on here?” he asked, eyebrows halfway into orbit.

“Breakfast,” Yuki answered flatly, as if he belonged here. As if my little brother hadn’t just caught him spooning me. I didn’t even bother sitting up. What was the point? It was already spiraling.

Isack’s jaw dropped. “Are you—YUKI?! You?! My teammate?! What the fuck?!”

“You know,” I said, grabbing a donut from the bag like this was brunch and not a betrayal, “you could’ve knocked.”

“You could’ve warned me before I walked into my literal teammate dry humping my sister on the couch!”

“We’re literally just cuddling,” I deadpanned. “Calm down.”

Yuki, to his credit, gave the most Yuki shrug of all time, like: yeah, this is happening, keep up.

“I’m gonna throw up,” Isack muttered. “I’m gonna throw up on your designer rug. You’re both—this is illegal. Against the sibling code. Against F1 regulations. This is—”

And then, like God decided this couldn’t get worse fast enough— Pierre walked out of the bedroom. Shirtless. Hair tousled. Stretching like he’d just woken from a coma.

“Oh no,” I muttered.

“Oh WHAT THE FUCK,” Isack shrieked.

Pierre froze mid-stretch, looked around, blinked. “Didn’t know we had guests.”

“WE DON’T,” Isack yelled. “WHO EVEN ARE YOU TO THIS STORY?!”

Pierre grinned. “Depends. What genre is it?”

I slapped a hand over my face. Yuki, still annoyingly calm, yawned. “Rom-com. Heavy on the com.”

Isack stared at the three of us, twitching like a sim about to catch fire. “This is a nightmare. I’m calling our mother. I’m calling the FIA. I’m calling God.”

“You want a donut before you have your little meltdown?” I asked sweetly, tossing one at his chest.

He didn’t catch it. It hit the floor.

“Unbelievable,” he said, turning and storming out. “I’m changing my last name. Don’t talk to me at the paddock. I’m disowning everyone in this room!”

“Love you!” Pierre called after him, totally unbothered.

“I hate it here!” Isack screamed from the hallway.

The door slammed shut again. Yuki looked down at me. “He took that well.”

I bit into my donut. “Honestly? Better than I expected.”

Pierre flopped back onto the couch, grabbing Yuki’s abandoned half-donut. “So… are we doing the pigeon documentary or something sexier?”

I groaned. “You two are never allowed to be shirtless in front of my brother again.”

Yuki just smiled. “Noted. We’ll wear robes next time.”

—

yn_hadjar

liked by pierregasly, olliebearman, yukitsunoda0511 & 5,090,777 others.

yn_hadjar : comments will be turned back on once isack stops having a meltdown (so never). however, i have two sexy men in my bed every night so idc.

tagged : pierregasly and yukitsunoda0511

—

user has disabled comments on this post.

—

pierregasly

liked by yn_hadjar, charles_leclerc, yukitsunoda0511 and 4,008,013 others.

pierregasly : my brother in law isack is not very happy with me rn so why not add fuel to the flame. love you bothhhhhh

tagged : yn_hadjar and yukitsunoda0511

—

view 175,090 other comments.

yn_hadjar : so cuteeee. love my boys

liked by yukitsunoda0511 and pierregasly

charles_leclerc : how did he not know?

↳ yn_hadjar : he was born naturally oblivious

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and yukitsunoda0511

username0 : isack's recent google search is how to make yn - no yuki no pierre

liked by yn_hadjar

↳ yn_hadjar : i fucking love you lmao

isackhadjar : you are NOT my brother in law

↳ isackhadjar : i refuse

↳ isackhadjar : my eyes are still burning.

↳ isackhadjar : had to walk in on yuki practically having sex with my sister

↳ yn_hadjar : we were literally watching a pigeon documentary

↳ username20 : always thought isacks 2025 crashout would be racing related not due to pierre and yuki dating his sister.

—

yukitsunoda0511

liked by pierregasly, yn_hadjar, olliebearman & 2,097,008 others.

yukitsunoda0511 : love you both even if it means putting up with her brother and the fact that pierre is a blanket hog.

—

view 125,075 other comments.

pierregasly : love you more- even when you talk in your sleep

liked by yukitsunoda0511 and yn_hadjar

visacashapprb : we both ask that you both behave in a manner that is professional as you are teammates.

↳ yukitsunoda0511 : @/isackhadjar ^^^^

liked by yn_hadjar

lando : i need a diagram of who sleeps where

liked by yn_hadjar

↳ yn_hadjar : i sleep in the middle and those two switch sides like every 3-5 business days

liked by lando, pierregasly and yukitsunoda0511

yn_hadjar : my cutie pies

liked by yukitsunoda0511 and pierregasly

isackhadjar : i am the victim in this story and no one is talking about it

↳ pierregasly : isack erasure :(

↳ yn_hadjar : the only thing you are victim to is a horrendous fashion sense

↳ yukitsunoda0511 : yes you def are the victim after walking into an apartment that is not yours unannounced.

—

361 notes · View notes

wisecura · 6 months ago

Text

Sweeter

SatoSugu x f!Reader p.1 - 4k (technically SFW, but the next chapter not so much)

summary: entering high school only to be met with the two hottest strongest sorcerers of your generation was not something you were prepared for. so, what happens when they take a strange liking to their cute, sheltered underclassman?

an: thank you for this request! I've definitely dabbled in this concept before, and I have plans to do another similar to this but a lot meaner. I really like the color orange.

MINORS DNI AFTER HERE warnings: pwp (lots of plot, lots of porn), small age gap (first year and third years - no sex between minors), arranged marriage, poly relationship, possessive undertones, manipulative undertones, manipulative, some gaslighting, immature (sheltered) reader,

and a part 2?

“What kind of man is your type?”

You stare in stunned silence, the question barely registering in your head. Seriously, it was just your second day at Jujutsu Tech, and here you were, face-to-face with possibly the two hottest guys you'd ever laid eyes on.

And they're clearly having some kind of fun with the newbie. Is this some sort of unofficial welcome ritual for underclassmen or just plain old hazing?

That's one hell of a question to drop on someone, especially since, if you really had to choose, your type would probably be a perfect mix of the two heartthrobs standing in front of you. I mean, come on, they were drop-dead gorgeous��definitely not the type you’d expect to bump into in a high school corridor. They looked more like they'd walked off a fashion shoot or something.

"Yo—" You choked on your words, and you quickly turned your head, feeling your cheeks warm up with a shy blush.

“Uhm…my kind of man? I like someone who’s strong...and, uhm…hot.”

The white-haired one hummed thoughtfully, sharing a quick glance with Mr. Manbun. His eyes were the bluest you'd ever seen, flashing even behind his glasses. And the other's eyes—were they actually purple? Is that even a natural eye color?

Their silent exchange felt like an entire conversation, and somehow, it encouraged you to keep going.

"I-I mean like muscular? Wait no—more like, a lifelong partner? Someone who can take care of me—a good listener, y’know?"

As you rambled on, you could feel your cheeks burning up, and you shuffled your feet, unable to stand still. They both chuckled at your nervousness, catching you off guard—and then, they finally introduced themselves.

"I'm Satoru Gojo," said one with a wink that sent your heart racing.

"And I'm Suguru Geto," added the other, his voice so deep that you found yourself looking away.

They didn't explain the earlier questioning, but whatever test they had in mind, you must've passed with flying colors. From that day on, Satoru and Suguru seemed to appear just about everywhere you went.

You hadn't expected to see them much after that initial interaction, but they seemed to show up in the weirdest places. You’d see them walking in the hallways, despite their classes being across the school, near vending machines that you frequented, and even by the park you sat at with your classmates.

And soon enough, they started 'accidentally' stumbling into your classes, drawing exasperated sighs from your teachers as they casually plopped down on either side of you. Interjecting themselves into the conversations you had, placing themselves into every facet of your life–present in every second of your free time. You couldn’t even feign surprise when they began showing up at your training sessions, taking a special interest in your improvements as a sorcerer.

"Need a sparring partner?" Satoru flashed an easy grin as he slung an arm casually across your shoulders–another new development you noticed since they began seeing you more often: the touches. Suguru was never far behind, within fingers' length. Inches away, never as touchy as Satoru, but he had his moments. Whether it was both Satoru and Suguru together or just one of them, you could always expect not to be alone.

And after asking around–hearing the whispers from those around you, you learned that Satoru and Suguru were the strongest in the school. It wasn't just impressive—it was downright intimidating. Satoru, in particular, was regarded as the strongest of his generation, a reputation that added an extra layer of awe—and pressure—to your interactions.

You, hailing from a small, conservatively raised clan, couldn’t help but feel like you were playing in an entirely different league.

Before coming to school, your knowledge of cursed techniques was minimal at best. Your clan, lacking the wealth and influence of the more prominent families, hadn’t provided much in the way of advanced training. In fact, the notion of attending an actual school, rather than being homeschooled like many others in your clan, took everyone by surprise—especially you.

In your clan, the rules for girls were pretty clear-cut: get married and start having kids as soon as you hit eighteen. The cultural expectations had always hovered over you like a predetermined fate, yet you'd begged and begged anyways. And here you were—after many threats to refuse marriage, to run away, threatening to do the most drastic things—finally at school.

That to say, your clan wasn't much for affectionate and loving gestures. You'd never known close friendships, and you had no clue how to interact with the two. Yet despite this, Satoru and Suguru were ridiculously warm and almost overly affectionate towards you. They weren't just friendly; they took it to another level—constantly teasing you, never enough to push you away–just enough to make you flush red and smack an arm or two.

They were like your personal bodyguards, stepping in to shield you from what they thought were unfair missions, always keeping an eye out during your training sessions or interactions with the higher ups. They even went as far as syncing their schedules with yours—just so they could be there for you whenever you needed.They always made sure to include you in their conversations, valued your opinions, and weren't shy about asking plenty of personal questions, drawing you into their circle so effortlessly–it felt like you'd always been a part of the duo. And despite the gap in experience and power, they never made you feel lesser, or spoke down to you.

When it came to physical affection, they never shied away from it–hugs quickly became the norm—just another part of your daily interactions. Almost as frequent as the lingering touches that seemed to pop up out of nowhere, the casual sharing of food and drinks, and those silly moments when they’d playfully feed you a bite of their lunch or coax you into sitting on their laps, arms wrapped around your waist.

And honestly, you didn’t mind their presence much. Despite the constant teasing, the constant presence in your life, and the overt clinginess, you really couldn't compare it with anything else–so you chalked it down to normal. Growing up in a clan that wasn’t big on hugs and kisses, you kind of assumed their touchy-feely behavior was just how friends acted, so you didn’t make a big deal about it—even when they would get really close, snuggling into the crook of your neck, or planting small pecks in random places. Normal. This was normal.

And it worked that way for a while... It wasn’t until some of your classmates pointed out how odd it seemed that you were so close to the untouchable duo. How they hadn't shown much interest in anyone else, and from afar it looked more like they were caring for a well groomed pet than a friend.

You tried to fit in, not wanting to be seen as the odd one out by your classmates, and as you grew more self-conscious, you did start to pull back a bit. But the more you retreated, the more pushy they became–your dynamic so intertwined with your everyday life, it was like pulling teeth.

You found yourself constantly dodging the snacks they pushed toward your mouth, slipping out from under the arms they kept throwing around your shoulders. You even started keeping details about your life more guarded, trying to maintain some personal space. Despite your best efforts to distance yourself, Satoru and Suguru had grown too attached, finally deciding to confront you about your newfound evasiveness when they couldn’t take it anymore.

As you once again shrugged off another arm from your shoulder, Satoru and Suguru halted, turning to you with a look of concern. "What’s up with you lately? You seem really tense. Is something bothering you?"

Satoru’s voice carried the softness of genuine concern, but there was a deliberate persistence behind his words. Probing, searching. Suguru joined in, his tone echoing Satoru's worry, yet there was a subtle tint to sound teasing, not wanting to ruin the good mood. "You’ve been pretty distant lately. It’s not like you. You're not feeling left out, are you?"

As you tried to put more space between you and them, voicing that you just didn't feel good, Satoru pulled you slightly closer, his grip firm, as if to physically manifest a will for you to stop pulling away. "Look, if something’s wrong, you should tell us. We’re your friends, we’re here for you.

And this is what finally led to you opening up about the comments your friends were making, but now Satoru and Suguru were visibly upset. You knew Satoru well enough to expect his dramatic flair—he was always the louder, more expressive one. But Suguru? His irritation was something you hadn't seen before.

"They’re saying what now? So, your little 'friends' are harassing you? Is that it?" Suguru’s voice was icy, his eyebrows knitting together in a rare show of displeasure. You couldn’t picture the words coming from his lips, but here they were.

“Hmpf” a puzzled look crossing your face, “I wouldn’t say harassed, just—“

“Oh c’mon, princess, you don’t need to defend them,” Satoru interjected quickly, pulling you close, settling you into his lap with a swift motion. You stumbled slightly but found stability as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, losing the desire to really pull back.

"You know, we're just looking out for you," Satoru continued, his voice softening, rubbing his chin over your head like an overgrown cat. "People can get the wrong idea, but they don't understand how close we are."

Suguru nodded, "Exactly. It’s normal for us, right? This is how we've always been with each other. They just aren't part of our circle, are they?"

After that conversation, you hardly heard a peep from anyone else about your friendship with the two. The only difference in your relationship between you three, seemed to be the fact that the two became even more relentlessly clingy.

They began popping up on your dual missions, offering help so you could 'finish up faster,' only to whisk you away for yet another impromptu bakery date. Picking up things from their missions, using the money they had to buy you expensive presents, always ensuring you took care of yourself. They spoiled you rotten,and really, you couldn’t find it in your heart to be annoyed—they were just so committed to keeping you safe and well-fed. And If they said your friendship was normal, then who should you believe?

They were super protective, almost to a fault. No one else was really allowed to hang with your little crew without getting some serious side-eye or a snappy comment from them. It felt like they saw everyone else as the enemy, but when it came to you, they couldn’t be sweeter. Their teasing tone only got more flirty and affectionate by the day.

The touches become more firm, no longer small or lingering, but firm and almost commanding. A clear message to the people around you, yet you never really paid attention.

You tried to give back what they gave, not wanting to be a bad friend or seem distant. And they only seemed to encourage it—sometimes pulling your wrist over to feed them, playfully licking your finger. They leaned into your head pats, one would always nudge you closer to the other, both soaking up your warmth. Even Suguru seemed more affectionate, somewhat taking after Satoru. Their hugs became even tighter, pulling you in close to inhale your scent from your neck, sending small shivers down your neck.

You sort of felt bad. Here were your friends, interacting how they normally would, and here you were–developing these…feelings. Inappropriate thoughts that you refused to share. They interacted as affectionately to each other as they did with you–so you knew for a fact they were not having the same thoughts as you. So you ignore it. Hoping it'll go away.

By the time you rolled into your second year, you really started to get a handle on the social hierarchy. Jujutsu Society was just as stiff and formal as your own family, something you hadn't fully grasped until Satoru started pointing out its many flaws. He was the heir to the Gojo clan, and he was constantly venting about how he was being pressured to take over next year—a role he was definitely not excited about.

He'd go on and on about how they were always on his case, trying to push him this way and that. But given his reputation as the strongest around—it was pretty clear that Satoru wasn't the type to be pushed into anything he didn’t want to do.

Your two best friends were about to finish high school, and the looming thought of their departure was a tough pill to swallow. You’d grown incredibly close, digging deep into each other’s lives, and the mere thought of saying goodbye felt like a punch to the gut. They reassured you, of course, promising that you’d always stay in touch. But deep down, you knew better.

Your family's strict rules meant the only real freedom you had was at school. And if they weren't coming back to school, the chances of seeing them after you graduated were slim to none, especially with the looming prospect of your arranged marriage hanging over your head.

And when they finally did leave, you tried to keep up with your usual routine, but it just wasn’t the same without them around. Sure, your phone buzzed with texts from them, and you were all active in your group chat, but real updates on their lives came in dribs and drabs. You missed them terribly.

Every summer break after they graduated, they’d send you invites to hang out, but with your super conservative family keeping tight reins, you could never make it out of the estate. It was incredibly frustrating, feeling trapped while imagining your friends out there, having a blast and probably moving on without you.

And by your fourth year, whispers about your upcoming marriage began circulating around the clan house, causing bouts of panic and desperation creeping up in you. Suffice to say, you were far from thrilled with the idea. Dreaming of becoming a full-fledged sorcerer, going out on missions, and making a difference, you had bigger plans than just settling down as a homemaker for some clan member you hardly knew.

Yet, family tradition cast a long shadow over your life, always nudging you towards doing what was expected, not what you desired. The thought of just following along without making your own choices really got to you, but what choice did you really have?

Then, out of nowhere, that fateful day crashed upon you.

Your mother burst into your room, her eyes alight with a mix of glee and anticipation, an expression so foreign to her usually stoic demeanor. She was practically skipping as she waved an envelope in the air, her excitement out of place in the somber and bleak context that was your life at the moment.

"The Gojo clan! We’ve received a letter from the Gojo clan. Your marriage has officially been arranged!" she squealed, a sound so uncharacteristic it almost didn't seem real.

You stood there, shell-shocked, as her words reverberated through the sparsely decorated confines of your room. This couldn't be right. There must be some mistake, or perhaps it was another Gojo clan, not the Gojo that you knew all too well. Couldn't be.

As you mulled over her announcement, your thoughts were a jumbled mess of confusion and disbelief, and as if the universe itself had scripted the moment, your phone lit up. You glanced down, heart skipping a beat. "Gojo Satoru" flashed across the screen, dragging you back into a harsh reality.

A message from him now? It seemed like some cruel cosmic joke was unfolding right before your eyes.

The day you were to meet the Gojo clan finally arrived, with the sun shining brightly, its cheerfulness almost mocking the storm of emotions roiling inside you.

Dressed to the nines at your mother's behest, each step toward the Gojo clan estate felt unbearably heavy. A sense of foreboding gnawed at you—details about your future husband were alarmingly sparse.

Your attempts to glean more information had been futile. Satoru's responses over the last week were disturbingly evasive, skillfully sidestepping your questions. And surprisingly, Suguru hadn’t mentioned anything either, which was odd considering how close you had all become. The silence from both him and Satoru not only heightened your anxiety but also stirred a mix of suspicion and unease.

You'd think your marriage would strike some kind of reaction from the two. Not even a congratulations was sent–not that you wanted one. It begged the question. Were they intentionally keeping something from you? Did they know something you didn't?

As you approached the grand entrance of the Gojo estate, your heart thudded painfully in your chest. The overwhelming anxiety about your unclear future was one thing, but a deeper sense of betrayal cut even more sharply.

Stepping through the towering doors of the Gojo residence, you were immediately struck by the opulence that greeted you.

The extravagance of the foyer, with its traditional/modern vibe and gleaming wooden floors, was a stark contrast to the modest, basic estate you had grown up in. You entered the room with your head down, following closely behind your mother, just as you were taught. Today was the day you were supposed to meet the man you were going to marry.

Your mom led the way to a low-rise table, sitting to your left, your dad taking a quiet seat to your right. The room was filled with the sound of impatient fingers drumming on the table, which nudged you to sneak a cautious glance upward to the source of the noise.

There, dressed in his ceremonial blue robes, sat Satoru, his presence alone enough to make your heart skip a beat. You hadn't seen him in months, barely heard a peep from him, yet here he was. In all his handsome glory. It didn't really hit you until he leaned in, casually throwing out with a sly smirk, “Is this my new pretty little wife?” He was obviously playing, but boy, did those words land with a thud.

Your father, completely oblivious to the turmoil swirling inside you, beamed with unabashed pride. He quickly jumped in with introductions, puffing out his chest as he announced, “This is my daughter,” as though marrying you off to the Gojos was his crowning achievement. You noticed a few other clan members–likely from the Gojo clan, chatting away with your parents.

As you sat there, trying to make sense of how rapidly your life was pivoting, the room seemed to spin. Everyone around you—your family, the Gojos—seemed ecstatic about the arrangement. Yet, you felt as if you were observing the scene from outside your own body, detached and overwhelmed.

Satoru's behavior, once so familiar and easy, now felt oddly formal, adding to the surreal nature to the whole affair. He was professional, stern, yet friendly. And despite the formalities, he seemed to pick up on your discomfort. Leaning in slightly, he lowered his voice, a genuine note creeping in as he asked, “So, what do you think?” His eyes, intense and searching, met yours across the chatter-filled table. It was a subtle gesture, but it was enough to show he was at least aware of the shock you were experiencing.

Finding words felt like navigating a minefield, caught as you were between your family's expectations and the bizarre reality of potentially marrying someone you actually knew—as a friend. Upsetting him. Upsetting your family. "It's... a lot to take in," you managed to whisper back, your voice barely audible.

Satoru nodded, his usual smirk softening into a more empathetic smile, a hand finding yours form across the table, going unnoticed. "We'll figure this out,” his tone was almost promising. The dynamic hanging heavy between the two of you, as your mind filled with every question under the sun.

Around you, the discussion continued unabated, your parents and the Gojos merrily planning away, oblivious to the subtle exchange between you and Satoru. Talk of wedding dates, ceremonial specifics, and the merging of two influential clans dominated the conversation, each phrase further solidifying the daunting reality of your situation.

As you listened, a part of you wanted to rebel, to shout that you weren’t just some pawn in a clan alliance. Yet, another part of you understood the importance of this union, not just for you but for everyone involved. The conflict left you feeling torn, unsure of whether to follow your heart or fulfill the role that had been chosen for you.

As the meeting wrapped up, Satoru stood and extended a hand to help you up, your parents smiling beside you, nudging you to follow. "Let's take a walk," he suggested with a gentle nod toward the gardens. "We need to talk, just the two of us."

Relieved to step away from the oppressive atmosphere of the meeting, you took Satoru's hand, letting him guide you out into the soothing fresh air. As you walked beside him, the gardens of the Gojo estate offered a serene backdrop to the tumultuous thoughts racing through your mind. Here, away from the prying eyes and ears, you wanted to ask him.

Why? What was going on? Why was he extending an offer to your family for your hand in marriage?

As soon as you were out of sight, hidden by the lush greenery of the Gojo estate's gardens, Satoru's demeanor changed. He quickly pulled you into a hug, his grip firm, unrelenting, as if a man deprived of oxygen, and a teasing smirk playing on his lips. "I missed you," he said, his voice a blend of jest and something you couldn’t quite place—was it relief?

The sudden closeness startled you, ramping up the anxiety already swirling inside you. “Satoru, why are you doing this? What would Suguru think?” you blurted out, your voice tinged with panic. You weren’t sure why exactly Suguru sprang to mind, but memories of recent texts in your group chat flickered through your thoughts. Was he in on Satoru’s plans? Did he support this unexpected turn in your relationship dynamic? Did he even know?—

Satoru pulled back slightly, his gaze narrowing into a frown that bordered on annoyance—a look you had never seen directed at you. “This was both of our ideas,” he revealed nonchalantly, as if the joint decision should ease your mind. His casual dismissal of your concerns stung, and his next words cut even deeper, tone boarding on mean. “What? Would you rather have another man marry you?”

His question stopped you cold. Was this really all for your benefit? Or was there something else at play here? Why the harsh tone? Was he upset?

Taking a deep breath, you tried to gather your thoughts. The idea of marrying someone you didn't know at all, someone outside of this circle you’d grown to trust—even if it was in a bizarre, unconventional way—seemed far worse. “No,” you finally said, your voice soft but certain. “I guess you’re better than someone else.”

Satoru’s face softened at your acceptance, never releasing his hold on you. He melted into you, hands clenching at your sides, “We thought so too,” he murmured, the word ‘we’ making you catch your breath—the implication clear as day. This was planned, and this was for you. But it sounded almost like he was trying to reassure both himself and you. “Look, I know this is all kind of weird, and it’s happening fast, but Suguru and I—we’ve got you. We’re not going to let anything bad happen.”

His words did settle some of your fears, and you relaxed into him. They were familiar, and you knew Satoru pretty well, and despite the strangeness of their proposal, you couldn't imagine being in this situation with anyone else. Maybe it would be alright?

“Let’s figure this out together, okay?” Satoru’s voice now held a sincerity that pierced through the remaining doubts. “Just give us a chance to make this work. For all of us.”

As you nodded, still processing the whirlwind of emotions, you realized that this might just be your best option.

Hand in hand, you walked back to the house with Satoru. The discussions that followed were a blur, and before long, a date for the marriage was set.

and a part 2?

come home, this one has a second home

673 notes · View notes

happysparklingshadows · 7 months ago

Text

A Certain Hunger (4/?)

Chapter 3 ✿ Chapter 5

Summary: It's been a few weeks in this cabin, and thinking about being saved is getting a little bit bleak. So, you have a good idea for everyone to find a job to make things easier for your time being in Canada. You pick up a fishing rod, and everyone else picks up the gun to see who will become the hunter. You reconnect with a childhood friend and start to accept your new home.

Pairing: Surviving!Poly! Yellowjackets x reader (slow burn)

Warnings: Smut, HOMOSEXUAL SEXXX, Lowkey controversial entirely written sex scene with a character yall wouldn't guess lol, Lowkey mean reader, Depiction of a terminal illness and death of a mother, 90s setting with the views of the time, homophobia and internal homophobia, Homophobic slurs, Alcohol/drug use, gore and blood, depictions of mental health, depictions of death, 90s slang is used (411 means giving the tea or details of a situation to someone).

Word count: 13.4k

Notes: I want to apologize for my hiatus, but it was for good reason. I needed to care for my father, who got very sick around September last year when I was going to write the 4th chapter, and he has since been better. Sadly, I lost my motivation, but I have detailed notes for the following 8 chapters, and I will be trying to finish seasons 1 and two of the story as soon as I can before the third season airs! This year, for NANOWRIMO, I have decided to write for this story and see how far I can go within the next month or two. Thank you to everyone who was so kind and understanding about my disappearance and still loves my story!

“(Y/n), what the fuck is a ratio?” Jackie whispers to you loud enough for Shauna to hear beside you in a lull in math class. Mrs. Goldberg had to leave the class for some reason, you don’t remember why. You smile over at Jackie with her lovely brown eyes and take a good look at her. She’s as beautiful as you remember.

You chuckle as you look into your notes and say, “From what Mrs. Goldmen wrote, an ordered pair of numbers a and b, written a / b where b does not equal 0.” You read from your notes as Shauna and Jackie looked blankly up at you from the obtuse definition. You laugh with them, “Whatever the fuck that means!”

Jackie and Shauna laugh with you, but Jackie groans in frustration at the last question.

Taissa, behind you, leans forward and smiles, “What’s wrong?”

Jackie turns dramatically to Taissa as she pulls her paper over to Taissa; she just wants the answer now. You look at Jackie moving around as Van pulls your attention with a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, (y/n), can you help me with the first question? Jackie stole my answer key.” She joked as you turned to help her.

You giggle at her joke as you look down at the paper.

It was blank.

There weren’t even questions printed onto the page like you thought. You looked at your paper again, flipping it around but finding that it had nothing written on it either. It didn’t have the answers you thought you were writing on it.

You furrow your brows as you look up to Van, but the redhead isn’t there. Neither were the others. A chill runs down your spine as you start to remember.

The door of your old math teacher's class slams open, causing you to squeal and jump from your desk. That then was the only desk in the room. It was as if when your eyes looked away from something, it disappeared.

Mrs. Goldmen looks at you with a sad, sympathetic smile as she leads you to the hallway; you don’t have any control at the moment as your legs walk you down the hallway with her. Mrs. Goldmen's hand is on your shoulder as she says words that have been etched into the gray matter of your brain. “Honey, your mother has gone to the hospital, and your father is here to pick you up.”

You remember this. This was the day your mother’s health got so much worse. The day you became her caretaker.

Fat tears run down your eyes as you walk to the office door. Mrs. Goldman disappears when her hand leaves your shoulder. You look around for her; the hallways of your old high school are empty, and liminal darkness creeps in the corners of the walls. You felt an urge to go into the office.

You held the cold handle and turned the knob to the left to open the office door.

It wasn’t right.

You are met with the darkness of the woods, which has claimed you as its own. You turn, and the hallways no longer protect you from the cold forest. You scream as you are surrounded by woods again; the door stands alone with its hinges.

You feel the ripe cold air coming up your legs and arms; you hug yourself.

Howls from the trees start to chant above you. Every corner was a howl from a freakish, unnatural octave, and you started to feel the snow melt under your toes and the nip of the winter bite at the skin of your arms. Unbearable and cutting is how it felt—hunger in the air.

You look down at yourself and see something that drops your heart.

The gold heart necklace from Jackie’s Sweet 16.

You don’t think before you run. You run straight and away from trees as the howls follow you. Helpless as sticks and bushes stopped you as you rushed through the 4ft of snow.

You sob and run, knowing you are coming to an end. You are going to die. You should just stay still and watch with open eyes as they slice your throat, shoot you with an arrow, or stab you with a spear. So why would you run?

But you ran anyway.

Raw, cold toes feel the crunching of the snow. Twigs tickle between your toes and scratch when you lift your feet.

You don’t hear anything anymore. You are in the heart of the woods; the tree watches you as you finally fall onto a mound of snow. Nothing makes any sense. You cry and feel yourself shake with adrenaline; you need to keep going.

A chanting comes to your ears. You freeze in the moment; you hear yourself.

You crawl towards the song, French humming and chanting from a distance.

Over the hill, you see yourself dressed in your old headdress, the pink stain furs of a white rabbit made into a cloak with the head of a doe adorn on the top. You circle the campfire that cooks the meat; the others dressed in their cloaks watch with stabbing eyes.

The queen in the center watches a younger you dance around the fire. The Antler queen nods her head and looks around the circle.

You watch yourself take a satisfying bite of the fatty meat from the pan that cooked the chunks. The others immediately rush to the pan and take their share of the meat. The grease shines on your satisfied smirk on the younger self, bubbling in your stomach. “Wake up, " you blurt out to yourself in a panic.

You gag as your eyes fill with tears.

No.

No. You don’t want to remember this.

This wasn’t even the worst of it.

Stop.

Wake up (y/n) wake up wake up wake up wake up-

‘21

You wake up violently from your dream. You feel yourself lean harder onto the surface you were on and feel a darting pain from a rod in your neck. You gasp as you look around, realizing you weren’t in your house again.

The tree whispers to you again. You know it.

You stand in the wooded area behind your home. It was always comforting to hide in the trees and smell the sun's sweet earth, playing pirates or whispering about boys you never liked with Shauna and Jackie. This was your hideout as a child. You played fox and hounds and painted nails as you watched the sunset. You hate it now. It screams at you, and it itches your skin to be surrounded again; you need a little distance. Your breath is short again.

Your hands cling to the tree behind you, and you feel something in your hand: your pocket knife. You turn around to look at what you have done again. You stare back at the symbol. Even when you dream, you seem to find a way to protect yourself, even a little bit.

You put the knife in your nightgown pocket. And you backed away. Slowly accepting the fact that this is something you will never stop doing, no matter the pills, sleep therapy, or drinking, can make you stop sleepwalking to the trees when you think about them. It follows closely behind, no matter the distance.

Fucking Shauna.

When you went to her house last night, you weren’t planning on sleeping with her.

You were sitting at her island drinking coffee like you usually do. Ever since you returned from New York to Wiskayok, you reconnected with Shauna because of the brunches with Jackie's parents. You have been coming over for coffee to talk about your lives like regular people. It was refreshing to look at Shauna and see an adult woman instead of the girl you grew up with and survived with. Not seeing Shauna was especially hard after coming home from the wilderness because you were the closest to her before the crash, even before you knew who you were. You still don’t know who you are without her in some ways.

You both talk about the upcoming brunch, how you'll get a rabbit as a present, and how Jackie’s parents will talk down to you like they always do. But as the conversation continues, Shauna confesses that she and Jeff are in a deep dry spell. They haven’t touched each other in a long time, and how Shauna has not been touched in a long time. Then, without even thinking about it, you two start kissing each other.

Then, something instinctually comes over you as you kiss and touch each other. The planned 40-minute coffee became hours of love-making.

But as soon as the passion ended, you left. You felt satisfied and a little weird from your desperation with Shauna. You get dressed, kiss them goodbye, and return to your lives like it never happened, like it has always worked. You remember feeling so grateful Callie was sleeping over at her friend's house and Jeff was out of the house for the night for some reason.

When you drove home, all you thought about was your day with Misty and Natalie, Travis killing himself, and making love with Shauna. It was a blast from the past. As you entered your driveway, an intrusive thought came to mind: the image of a pan over an open fire frying chunks of meat.

You shouldn’t have gone to bed thinking about the past. This only happens when the team creeps into your space; they always do that if you give them a chance.

You thought grumpily as you walked back to your backdoor. Your cat, Ginger, rubs on your legs when you get into your backyard. Your nightgown has mud at the ends, and your feet are dirty; your toenails have dirt under them.

A black van passes by as you walk into your home. It hisses in the wind as it drives by. You look at it, worried someone will see the dirt on your nightgown and think you are some senile old woman.

You get back into your home and sigh. Rubbing the ache in the back of your neck, you start a pot of coffee for yourself before you start your day. You needed a moment for yourself before you had to act all day, masking all your quirks and characteristics to seem normal.

“You don’t think people can notice you’re a little crazy, right?”

You froze as you put your cup of coffee on the counter. You know that voice.

“I mean, I love you for how crazy you are, but you have been losing it a lot lately.” Jackie’s voice says behind you. She always stands in her yellowjacket uniform with curled hair; she looks precisely how she should be remembered. “Don’t want you to bite someone on accident.”

“I’ll try not to, Jackie. But you never know; someone might not know not to put their hand so close to my mouth.” You say back at her. You feel your eyes well; she was always so sad to remember even more when you see her. Her phantom has been long accepted and dreaded, but something that no one could stop. You didn’t know if you even would want her spirit to leave you.

“Well, you should comb your hair and take a bath. You look like death… smell like it too,” Jackie says, and as if she was never there, she was gone.

You sigh and rub your eyes. You turn back for your coffee and pour sugar inside of it, “It’s too early for this shit.” You mutter to yourself. You can’t get angry at this. It’s your best hallucination, and you couldn’t get mad with Jackie, never with her. You got to leave, but Jackie never got to the chance to live out of the cedar and butterfly weeds.

‘96

“Lottie, I know it is… fucking weird as shit. But we can’t pass up a house in the woods, okay? I didn’t see any books wrapped in human skin.” You say softly to Lottie as everyone finishes their breakfast of berries and gossip. You rub the stinging at the back of your neck that can’t go away.

“I know, but it just doesn’t feel right being in the same house as a dead body,” Lottie says back.

“Well, maybe we can make something for the house to ease, you know, the energies.”

“Like charms?”

“Maybe? I have never dealt with this situation, but I trust you can settle the energies here. You are so good at being a peacekeeper.” You say to her and put your hand on her shoulder; you take it off quickly because you still don’t know where you stand with her after last night's kiss. Because you know if the others were to look at you and check if you were gay, you would be quickly exposed.

“Thank you, (Y/n)...” She says, looking down at her shoes.”Are we okay? I didn’t mean to make things weird. I don’t even know what I was thinking.”

You smile, hiding the hurt, and quickly say, “Oh, my god, yeah, we are, Lottie. I get it. We have been through a lot, and we just wanted some comfort. It’s not a big deal.”

Lottie chuckles out of relief and pats your arm; she nods. “Okay, good; I didn’t want anything to be weird.”

“No, nothing is weird, Lottie.” You reassure her as you move yourself away. You want to peel your skin off, and a sudden loneliness surrounds you.

The morning moves on quickly. Travis sits on the porch with a gun, and you just stare at him as you walk to the campfire in front of the cabin with the angler's box and pole.

“Okay, everyone! We need to talk plans!” You announce in your loudest voice. Everyone circles the fire and the porch to listen to you; every morning since the crash, you have made an effort to set goals for the day and get through the days until rescue. “Okay, so we’ve been in these woods for ten days. We are low on food but shouldn’t worry too much longer. We now have a fishing line and a working pole with the help of Lottie and Shauna,” You say as you smile at the two. The others do the same, giving little thanks to the two blushing girls. “So, we’re not hopeless right now; anyone who wants to learn how to fish can come with me and see if you want to do that. But does anyone know how to use the rifle?” You ask the group and consider your list of things to speak about today.

Couch Ben clears his throat and says, “I went hunting with family before, so I can teach people who want to.”

You nod your head at him and say, “Okay! Everyone should try it out to see who is the best with a gun. We’ve been out here for a little bit, and I am sure we will have to take care of ourselves until they get here-”

Jackie interrupts, “So, we shouldn’t worry about the food because they must be close by now?”

You look over at her; you know why she is talking. She doesn’t want a job, and she doesn’t want to worry about getting saved. But it has been 11 days since the crash; you don’t want to kill hope.

“Well, kind of. We should be prepared if it takes them a few more weeks to find us in these woods. Jackie, we’re in the thick of it right now, so it would be better if we all tried to use the gun and see if we can hunt-”

“Well, are you going to try out the gun?” She asked you with crossed arms and a well-known tone of annoyance.

You suck your teeth and tilt your head to her, “No, I am going out fishing. I know I am good at it, so I will do that. You can try to see if you are good at hunting. It’s just a tryout.” To end this small conversation, you say, “Okay, so the goal for today is to find some food and learn some skills tonight. Mari, Laura, and Krystal have already volunteered to clean and do the projects we have started at the cabin, alright? Anything else?”.

No one else had anything to say. You nod as you hold up the fisher pole and say, “I am going to the beach to fish and make a little project. if anyone wants to come with me, you will find me.” You say this as you see that no one will move to fish with you for some reason. You nod and start heading out of the campsite and walking down Natalie's trail to the lake. A few nights ago, Natalie took the time to crave a path to the beach and plane with small crosses on the trees. She wanted everyone to be able to tell where they were in the woods without getting lost.

The days have gone by quickly lately since you all have found the cabin, and it's been getting to you a little bit. You didn't like the feeling of being able to find your way around the woods, even though it was convenient. It still would never replace your home. You missed home, and you can't tell anyone else about it.

As you walk down the trail deep in thought, the sun hits your eyes through the leaves, it reminds you of your backyard. It’s precisely like where your tree house stands just outside your home, where you can look out the window and see your mother washing dishes. God, you missed your mom. And as of an hour ago, she should have taken her morning medicine and had her legs messaged because she can’t walk around too much. You feel your throat tighten, and your body has a wave of emotional nausea.

“Hey, Wait up!” Shauna called from behind you on the trail.

You stop and smile at her, “Hey, Shauna. You coming with me?” you ask.

“Yeah, I don’t want to touch the gun. I don’t want to kill anything.”

“I get it. I hate fish, so I like killing them.” You joke to her with the best deadpan voice you can muster.

Shauna chuckles and shakes her head softly, “You’re a freak, you know that?”

“Oh yeah? You’re not going to say that when I get a fish.” You cackled. “You can just journal if you want; I am just going to make you help me make a lazy fisherman.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a heavy stick supported with rocks with a hook and line attached. It just catches fish without anyone doing anything. You just raise the line, and hopefully, a fish is hooked.”

“We have hooks? What was in that box?”

“Not a lot, but it had a bait hook and a lure for the pole. It had some rusty hooks and oil for the pole. I made some hooks from the pop things on top of the cans.”

“The tab?”

“Yeah, I kinda cut them and made them like hooks. I’m thinking about making a net while we’re here.”

“You think we’ll be here long enough for that?”

“I don’t know; all I know is I will go crazy if I sit still too much. I overthink, you know.” You confess to Shauna as you come across a wide river a little off the trail from the lake. You and Shauna make some marks on the trees to make a path back to the trail.

After a while, the two of you settle up after making a lazy fisherman. It was easy to be around Shauna. You’ve been sandbox friends, and that kind of love never dies. You mainly talked about school and the annoying people you knew, like Randy. The biggest meathead you’ve ever met.

“Randy smells like Salmi and is cold to the touch but also is very hot when you stand near him.” You say to Shauna as you cast a line with a little bug at the end. You sit on the river's edge with Shauna sitting against a tree.

Shauna laughs out loud as she hugs her journal to her chest. And you keep going on your rant.

“Honestly, girl, If I ever hear him say the words Faggot or Dyke again, to Misty or Kevin or whoever. I’ll write a story about him eating Jeff’s ass and finally getting to feel Jeff’s sweet touch. Because you can’t tell me he isn’t in love with that guy.” You say with a laugh in your tone as you can’t talk straight. It’s ridiculous, but it was so funny to both of you. Shauna is snorting like a pig next to you, making you fall on your back, laughing.

“What the fuck?!”

“He thinks about gay people too much to not be gay!” You laugh louder. Both of you laugh until your sides hurt. It felt nice just to be girls for a moment in the woods, and you pretend you were at the back of your house with Shauna.

It lulls for a moment before Shauna asks, “Randy called Misty a dyke?”

“Yeah. At the Spring Fling.” You said with a little bit of sadness going through. You felt so bad for Misty in moments like that. “I remember when me, you, and Jackie got there after getting ready seeing Misty-”

“In that big puffy pink dress,” Shauna says, pointing a finger at you. She remembers, and she smirks a little. At the time, unfortunately, you laughed at her dress for being out of date and seemed to be “trying too hard.”

“Yeah… But Misty was just there and- I mean, I am not going to say Misty is cool or that she isn’t weird. Sometimes, I don’t know if she isn’t an alien, but she isn’t mean or disgusting.” You say as you gently rile in the line. You feel yourself frown a little bit. “She was standing in the corner without a date and any friends, and Randy just comes up to her and calls her an ugly dyke.” You say a little quieter.

“Oh my god, that is so horrible; why didn’t you tell me the 411?”

“I mean, I only knew because she cried when I went into the bathroom. I was a shoulder to cry on; I didn’t want to make it a thing if Misty didn’t want to. I wish I could have done something. Fuck Randy.”

“Fuck Randy!” Shauna agreed. Shauna looks at you fish peacefully as the sound of gunshots rings in the distance. You look over to her and think about the next thing to discuss.

“So, Jackie is mad at me, isn’t she? Jackie learning how to shoot a gun?” You ask her, point her to talk to you about Jackie. You love Jackie deeply, but she usually causes drama within the trio.

“Yeah, she is being a bitch lately.”

“Yeah, I think she has the worst attitude out of everyone, but I can’t be upset that she is trying to come to terms with the crash.”

“Okay, but she doesn’t have to fight everything you ask her to do. You’re just trying to help everyone.”

“Thank you. And yeah, I hope she will stop fighting me every step of the way, but we just don’t know how long we’ll be out here, so I just don’t think we should be so argumentative…” You sigh and look at her with wary eyes, “I’ll talk to her. Like I always do. It’ll be okay. We love each other. No fucking gun will get in the way.”

“You’re right. It’ll be okay. We must be here for each other before we’re rescued.”

“You're right.” You say as you keep watching your line in the water. Praying for a fish to take a bite

‘21

You smile as your father laughs at the TV. You rub your hands to apply lotion to his shaking ones. You and he were watching “I Love Lucy” because it was his favorite childhood show.

He doesn’t have fully solid days constantly anymore, and it's the reason you have him in the nursing home. Somedays, he was just like you when you returned from the wilderness. He wouldn’t eat or do anything but watch TV. He would sit in his chair and watch TV; when it was off, he didn’t know where he was anymore. One day, he forgot where the bathroom was in the home he had lived in for 45 years, and he wet himself before you found him in the living room looking in the china cabinet, thinking it was the bathroom. But other days, he was as sharp as nails, playing chess and talking about things from the 70s like it was yesterday.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach when he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s and early-set dementia, but you were calm. You were now an adult with savings and a career, and you had the means to care for him now. To repay him for him nursing you after you came back.

You remember the nights he would pet your hair back after you vomited from episodes of PTSD. How he would sit in your bedroom holding you in his lap with tears in his eyes, listening to you scream in his chest. He just sat there with you and let you sob; no words were needed. He just stood there and let you cling like a little girl again. He let you yell at him and berate him as if he were the wilderness himself because he knew you weren’t yelling at him. He knew when to push you forward and when you needed to be held.

He helped you through the 5 years of healing after you were found. You had a total of 3 surgeries to make your brain's blood vessels normal again. You had to wear a splint on your neck for 1 year. You had to have countless MRIs throughout your life. Countless painful nights as your neck stabbed at you and caused you to feel no comfort. Your dad was always there with you, sitting beside you at every doctor's appointment and every event. He would only sit outside the waiting room for your therapy sessions.

Your father looks at you with (e/c) eyes and a soft smile, “I’m so happy to see you, peanut. How is your job?”

“Well, I'm still stuck around the last few chapters of my trilogy, Trying to fight my publisher for more time," you say as you let his shaking hand down and go to his other to lotion them. They were callous and dry. Your father's hard work was shown in his battered hands, which shivered. “You took a shower already?”

“Yeah, I wanted to look nice for you.” He rasps with a chuckle, his wrinkled face still holding his cheeky smile. He had the same soul as he always had, and moments like these make you think of happy memories of being in the woods with him and your mom.

“Oh, thank you, dad! I was going to say it didn’t smell like a caveman in here.” You chuckle back with him as you finish rubbing the lotion on his other hand.

“Oh, hush, you!” He slowly pokes your side and cheek, holding a smile.

“No.” You giggle back at him as you stand up, your hands moving to comb his hair. “Have the nurses been kind to you?”

“Sweethearts. Kirsta, the night shift nurse, is very kind. She comes in here when I sleep and never has a bad attitude.” He said as he leisurely scratches his nose, “Don’t hate the food.”

“Well, that's good, Dad.” You say as you look down at him. He looked clean and comfortable in his recliner. “I should get going. I need to get a few words down before I go to bed.”

“Alright, Peanut.” He says and takes you in. He grabs your hand gingerly and says, “I love you. Be safe. Text me when you get home.”

You chuckle and nod your head. You find it adorable that your father still wants you to tell him whenever you leave him. Even when you lived with him at your grown age, he wanted to know you were safe. “Of course, Dad! Don’t worry.”

“You better, " he says as he points at you with a shaking finger. He was so cute to you at that moment. You just laugh and nod your head to him. “I will!” you state back with a big smile.

You leave his room and start walking down the hallway of the nursing home. Walking down the halls, you can hear the other residents talking and watching TV.

You hear a ping on your phone and see Shauna texting you again. You sigh as you click on the notification.

Shauna Okay so I did something bad. You Like what? Did you rear-end someone again? Shauna No Shauna Dinner You Omg you went to the dinner? What happened? Shauna Jeff is cheating Shauna Jeff is cheating on me, and he isn’t trying to fix some fucking data system. I am just so done. Shauna So I went to dinner. Shauna And I stayed for dessert. You Omg you didn’t Shauna Yep, and I am going to see him again tonight. You Shit Shauna! You I mean, get your lick back but don’t go too far.

As you approached the front of the nursing home, which had a large circle desk for the nurses, you turned on the curve and accidentally tripped over another woman.

You look at the woman with a smile, which drops for a second because you know her. It was Misty. You didn’t realize she worked here, where your father is, but you quickly perk your lips up again.

“Oh my god, Misty!”

“(Y/n)! What are you doing here?”

“Oh, well. My dad has been here for a while, and I am here to visit! I didn’t know we were going to meet again so soon.”

“I was picking up my Tupperware, which I left yesterday.” She shows you her red-top Tupperware in her oversized purse. “I was going to ask you if you wanted to have Chocolate Martinis at Antonio’s; they are outstanding.”

You didn’t want to. You have been seeing the team too much again, and you had sex with Shauna last night. You become increasingly like how you used to be when you get around these women.

“Sure! You wanna pick me up from my house?” You blurt without a second to stop yourself. You wanted to kick yourself, but you couldn’t stop it.

“Great!” Misty beams with a big smile as you both leave the nursing home. “I’ll tell you about the Travis situation, " she adds as she walks beside you.

‘96

You and Shauna sat beside the riverbank for a long time, talking about everything and nothing. It didn’t feel like you were doing anything as you and she gossiped about the others in the wilderness. It was relaxing and pleasing. You kept looking down to your now two fishing lines for any signs of fish. The sounds of gunfire going off in the distance, in an odd way, were comforting because you knew where everyone else was while being far away.

While waiting for the fish, you started talking about school and dances- anything to keep your mind busy.

“So, after my mom curled my hair and did my makeup, she left me to get my dress on. You remember the one purple one with the ruffles.”

“Sophmore year homecoming, right?” Shauna asks as she points to you, trying to remember.

“Yeah, that one. I don’t know if I have ever told you, but the zipper popped open when I put on the dress.” You said with a smile hurting your cheeks as you laughed loudly from your gut at your story. It used to make you cry thinking about that time, but now it is funny. Shauna bubbled in laughter beside you as you continued, “She was yelling at me, crying and sobbing, that I was going to that dance whether I liked it or not. She just started sewing me into the dress.”

“No fucking way your mom sewed you into a dress!” Shauna laughed with you as she grabbed your arm. Her eyes water with tears as she laughs with you.

“No, she did! It was the last time I ever got anything from Macy’s.” You giggle as you glance back to the fishing line one more time.

Shauna began to chuckle softly, her eyes crinkling slightly as she listened to your story. It made her miss everyday life before the crash. "God, homecoming. I wish we were back there instead of this," Shauna motioned to the wilderness around us with a sigh.

"Yeah, same. I would much rather be crying about being fat over this any day." You sign as you lean on Shauna’s shoulder. You try to keep the good vibes that were made, so you smile and nudge her, "But, hey, we have each other, and people are looking for us. They have to be."

Shauna smiled softly as you moved closer to her. She smiled at you, but inside, she wasn't sure if she believed you'd be found. But she didn't want to worry you. "Yeah, of course. Maybe we're already on the news," she added, attempting to sound optimistic.

"Oh yeah, I don't know how people haven't heard about us,” You said quickly after she finished because you believed you were headline news. “ All our families must be doing everything to find us, and they would have known as soon as the plane didn't land." You added a lump in your throat growing as you said families. You thought about your family's reaction and everyone’s family’s reaction to them being missing. You couldn't imagine the fear and worry they must be experiencing, not knowing where you all were. But you tried hard to push those thoughts to the back of your mind, needing to remain strong.

"I'm sure they're out there looking for us. They'll find us," she said, mostly trying to persuade herself and you.

"They will, and all we have to do is wait until they do." You nudge her again and smile, saying, “Besides, we have good company.”

As you move your head back, you see the lure dramatically dunking into the water. You quickly grab your pole and start to reel in the fish. As ywou start to move, you can feel how heavy the fish is on the other end.

“Whoa, oh my god, did you catch a fish?” Shauna asks in excitement as she sits up on her knees beside you and looks at the water.

“Trying to!” You say back as you keep reeling in the fish.

Suddenly, after struggling with the reel a little bit, you pull up two fish on one hook. You squeal in happiness as you quickly grab the two fish with pride. Shauna squeals with you as you hold the two big fish.

You and Shauna hug each other happily as you hold the pole up, “Holy shit! Holy shit Shauna!”

“They are fucking huge!” Shauna gushed as she grabbed one of the fish and immediately cringed at the feeling of the fish’s slimy-scaled skin. “Gross”

“I know, right? Come on, let's get this back to the cabin before we get some more,” you say with a big smile. You feel relieved. You all will eat tonight and be full tonight. Your dad would be very proud of you.

You walk back to the cabin in triumph as you laugh and talk with Shauna all the way up the trail. Before too long, you arrive at the cabin, and everyone starts to finish off firing the gun.

Van's face brightens like a light bulb as she sees you two walk to the cabin with dinner: “Whoa! Look at you!”

Everyone’s attention turns to you, and they cheer for you both on for the find.

“You got a fish!” Jackie squealed as she sat up from her seat on the cabin steps. Mari came over and grabbed the fish with a big smile, holding the fish from the mouth with her finger. “No, they caught two fish!” Mari said back, she looked into its lifeless eye.

“I didn’t do anything.” Shauna chuckled as you shook your head, wanting to share the praise with her.

You roll your eyes and look back to Mari. You notice behind Mari that Natalie is looking at you with a serious face that you can’t place in your mind. You couldn’t tell if Natalie was angry, happy, or disgusted by the fish.

“Yeah, the pole still works, thank god.” You chuckle as you put the pole on the wood seat you all have made around the fireplace. You add, “I think it’s a good sign we got two fish. Maybe it’s the woods telling us we’ll be okay until we’re found.”

You look up to the group, and your eyes meet Lottie’s as if you were saying, “See, told you so” with your eyes. She warily smiles at you and looks down as you silently converse with just the context from earlier.

“You are you trying to sound like Miss Cleo? Wanna read my future?” Jackie jokes and snickers at your comments, dismissing them as stupid. You chuckle and shake your head, “No, Jackie, I’m being hopeful! I can overread a thing or two.” You say as you push her shoulder; she looks at you and chuckles.

You and Mari let the fish rest on the cabin table before you descaled them for dinner tonight. There was more than enough for everyone to eat, and it made you feel so proud to be able to provide dinner for everyone. And because you were going to wait anyway, you both put a bowl on top of the fish to keep it fresh until you return from everyone testing out shooting on cans.

You didn’t care much for the gun or the loud noise of it going off, it unsettled you deeply. It made you feel uncomfortable and cringe at the ringing in your ears.

Lottie and Van placed the old cans on a log infront of the group, quickly retreating into the brush of the woods. With your arms crossed, you lean against a tree, waiting for everyone to finish practicing there.

“Team, this is how this will go down—one final round for all the marbles. You got five targets, five shots each. Mari, can you start us off?’

“Um, just a thought. Shouldn’t we be saving bullets, you know?” Laura Lee added with concern in her voice.

“Uh, yeah, in theory, but lucky for us, the nutjob who lived here before was apparently hoarding for the apocalypse.” Couch Ben reassured as best he could. You could tell he didn’t want to be here, but he was putting up as much of a front as he could.

Mari fires a shot at the cans. You quickly cover your ears as you cringe at the boom. She missed the can, and you recoil before she goes again.

“The cans,” Travis mocks as he looks at her with narrowed, judgemental eyes. You couldn’t stand him in any way lately. His mere voice made you wish it was a gunshot. “You’re-You’re aiming for the cans.”

“Shut up,” Mari snapped at him as she cocks the gun, still holding it to the cans.

“Do you like being this way?” Natalie says to Travis, her eyes slowly rolling to him in annoyance. Waiting for the gunshot, you haven’t moved your hands from your ears.

“If you shit the bed again, you gonna ask for another do-over?”

Natalie shakes her head at him quietly as you glare at him. You just want him to shut up with his edgy and macho persona so everyone can get on with this stupid practice. You added, “You don’t ask for a do-over, you just clean your fucking bed, we are shooting cans, idiot.”

Your hands aren’t as firmly over your ears as Mari fires again. You flinch again as you cover them. Your eyes locked in a broad expression as you looked at the cans; the startling way the sound ripped through you, made you freeze like a deer in the woods, hoping the bullet wasn’t for them.

And she fires again quickly, this time hitting a can. You smile and nod at her, keeping your hands over your ears. You now see the eyes on you as you react to the sounds. You feel a blush over your body as embarrassment comes over you, but you can’t bring yourself to pull your hands down. “Hey. All right.” Couch Ben says calmly but clearly happy she finally hit a can. “Good job, Mari.” Everyone slowly claps for her. She smiles, and as she walks back to Akilah, she thrusts the Gun into Travis’s hands.

Travis immediately starts preparing to shoot at the cans, and he hits four cans until he misses his first.

“So close, flex.” Natalie teased him from behind. You looked at her with a snicker at her comment.

Suddenly, Travis turns around with the gun ready in his hand, and he aims it at Natalie’s face. “Don’t fucking call me that!”

“Whoa!” You gasp as you step closer to Natalie out of instinct to protect your friend, your eyes as wide as saucers.

“Travis! Put the gun down.” Couch Ben shouts demands at him, His eyes wide with panic because he can’t stand and take it away from him.

You don’t even think as you yell, “Put the fucking gun down, Travis! What the fuck are you doing?”

He then turns around and shoots at the cans after an intense silence. You cringe again at the sound of his gun.

“All right, that’s, uh-yeah, that’s good shooting, Martinez. Don’t ever do that again.” Couch Ben says awkwardly as everyone quietly watches on with tension in their shoulders. You felt yourself seething with anger bubbling in your stomach.

“Don’t choke. Again.” He says to Natalie with an antagonistic glare.

He then backs away and stands near you. You look at him with disgust as you spit at his feet, “Stand away from me, asshole.” You hiss at him.

He looks at you in surprise that you are still so angry at him that you just keep your mean mug on him, and he steps away. He was surprised at your sudden outburst, as did everyone behind you because you were known for being overly friendly, but you ensured he knew not to be near you.

You look at Natalie and nod, “You got this, girl.” you say. You cover your ears quickly before she does anything else.

Natalie looks at Travis with the same intensity as you and takes a smooth, deep breath. She then puts the gun to her shoulder and hits each can without hesitation. One by One, they drop to the forest floor. She then smiles slowly as she finishes. Everyone cheers and applauds her for showing Travis up.

You snicker as you look at her. Natalie moves her head towards you first. Meeting your eyes with happy eyes and a big smile, she looks at you quickly over and looks away to the other. You blush quickly, trying not to overthink about her looking for your approval first and your praise, and you don’t think much about her looking you over. She sure wasn’t checking you out.

After the gun practice, everyone searched for berries and mushrooms in the woods. Travis left to the cabin with his tail tucked between his legs after you kept telling him to go away. He left after you said that you don’t trust him and no one should because he acts like a brat. He looked hurt and looked around at the other girls with eyes that screamed he regretted what he did with the gun, but no one had his back. He just stepped back, and you shook your head as you turned to the others.

“Are any of these, like, Maple syrup trees?” Laura Lee asks as she looks up at the tall sycamore tree.

“What?” Tai questions as she walks behind her, towards the clearing a few feet away.

“I don’t know,” Laura Lee mumbled as she walked away. She softly touched your shoulder as she walked by, needing you to stabilize her from the trail's incline.

You found some chestnuts on the ground. They were fresh and not ready yet, and you put them in your pocket as you heard Akilah smack Misty’s hand.

“Don’t eat that kind,” Akilah panicked as she pushed the mushroom in Misty’s hand on the forest floor. “It’s poisonous.”

Misty looks at her with big eyes and a little shaky hands.

Van says, sarcastically, “Like “Kill you” poisonous, or like, “trip your balls off” poisonous?”

“What? I don’t know. My Girl Scout leader didn’t get all that specific about it.”

” (y/n)?” Taissa asks as she kneels to the ground with Mari.

You look over to Taissa, looking at tiny button-like mushrooms that grow from decaying animals.

“Don’t eat that one either. That's a dead mushroom. It is too new to eat if we could eat it. It would be like eating rotting meat. Don’t even touch.” You say as you look for more nuts on the forest ground. “Try to look for nuts. They are on the ground. If it has a hole, just drop it for the animals.”

“Well, could you just show us something edible so we can get going?” Misty asks kindly, impatiently—this is the first time you have heard her sound like that.

Taissa looks behind her to Misty, rising to stand over her, “What’s the big furry?”

“Coach needs a sponge bath?” Van teases Misty with a smirk, and you feel one grow on your lips at the joke, too. Everyone pauses to look at Misty, animals looking down at the runt. As a snicker comes to their lips, Taissa fully laughs, covering her mouth.

“That’s-That’s so mean.” Taissa laughs as she looks to the ground. Everyone softly holds their laughs as Misty storms off. Van laughs as Misty rushes past and giggles out, “I’m sorry. Whatever.”

Van puts her arm around Taissa’s shoulders, and you look at them. Jealousy courses through you. Why couldn’t you have someone like they do?

“Get off me!” Taissa patted Van’s arm away. In response, Van smears a smash berry she hid on her finger on Taissa’s face. “Did you put a berry on me?”

“I did.” Van said, taking her arm off her, and moved herself towards you.

“Okay, so, everyone, we just need to focus. We know we can’t touch those and those ones.” Taissa spoke to the group, trying to lead them back on track,

“No mushrooms, No mushrooms.” Van says as she starts to look up the trees for the chestnuts.

“Uh, Guys…” Jackie called out from a few yards away. You all moved quickly to her voice out of concern that she had encountered a wild animal in the woods.

“Jackie? “What is it?” you called back as you rushed to her.

“Guys, come here!” Jackie laughed.

“Look! Holy Shit!” Jackie exclaimed. You come over some trees and bushes to see Jackie slapping the door of a small personal plane that has vines and moss growing on it. The woods themselves are almost swallowing it, as it has had overgrowth for at least a decade, only covering and trapping it in place.

“W-what is this doing here?” Van asks in disbelief.

“It must have been the dead guy’s.” Jackie says as she looks at the wheels being stuck in the mud.

Laura Lee quickly finds the door and opens it, “I wonder if It still works?” Laura Lee questioned to no one in particular.

Van gently spins the propeller, “Holy fuck!”

Laura Lee is inside the plane, messing around loudly. You don’t want to get near that thing. You never want to be near a plane again. You stand away as you watch them touch the plane in excitement, everyone else coming closer to the plane.

Suddenly, as your anxieties manifested themselves to life, the plane started from Van’s spinning the propeller and Laura Lee messing around inside. The engine started with a startling rattle as it crept forward.

“Holy shit.” Van says as she steps back in shock. Jackie is wholly frozen until she suddenly pushes Van out of the way of the plane.

“Back away! What the fuck?” Jackie says as she is frozen in place.

“Stop the fucking plane!” You scream out to the plane. You feel yourself planted to the ground. You didn’t even react when Van fell to the ground. Everyone yells to stop the plane, and Laura Lee panics inside the plane, crying out, “I’m trying! I’m trying!”

The plane stopped just in time to avoid harming Jackie. She looked at the plane with buggy, big eyes and took a deep breath of relief.

Everyone pauses after the intense change of events. You stand frozen in silence as you look down at the wheels and wings. You had an intrusive thought creep into your mind, but you quieted quickly before speaking it out.

Lottie looks on, almost disassociated, as she says, “It didn’t want him to leave.”

You turn your head to her and look at her deeply concernedly. She says what you had thought. Maybe the wilderness didn’t want the mummy to leave. That's why he did what he did in the attic and why the air was so suffocating.

‘21

You giggle at Misty’s goofy joke about old men as you try not to spit out the chocolate martini in your mouth. Earlier today, Misty called you to ask how you were doing after the road trip because she thought the air between you and Natalie was off. She just wanted to check up. It ended up with you sitting across from her at an Italian restaurant.

“Yeah, so I just turned off the oxygen tank.” She says to add on to the joke, which kind of makes you laugh harder because you can see her doing that.

“Stop, you didn’t!” You giggle again as you try to hide your face with a napkin; your face is red hot.

“I didn’t-” Misty laughs with you as she sips on her chocolate martini. She says, “I wouldn’t do that to anyone.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” You say it with some sternness from Misty’s character. You make her feel more supported if you sometimes reaffirm what she wants to be seen as. You see her in that way. No one likes to be told who they are.

You notice her laugh, look slightly behind you briefly, and note it.

“Well, So, How is your work? Any new boos” Misty asks as she takes another sip of her martini. You feel yourself smile at the question and know she asks for more profound reasons.

“No, no, nothing special about work. And just little flings here and there. Keep the bed warm,” you say as you look at Misty’s eyes intently. You feel a little tense when you ask, “And you? How is it going with Kevin?” You ask with a soft joke about the last time you saw each other.

Misty became slightly flustered momentarily and shook her head, “I was trying to get Natalie out of her comfort zone.” Looking behind you again, she says, “But more or less the same. No one special enough to say they dated Misty Quigley.”

You chuckle and smile at Misty’s last comment, but you look behind you as soon as she finishes talking out of curiosity. You see behind a window of the inside of the restaurant. Dressed up nice, Misty is holding her head on her fist, listening to the man across from her, Natalie. Misty is following Natalie.

“Misty-”

“I can explain!” Misty says as she blabbers on, “I was trying to keep an eye on her and make sure she is okay after seeing Travis because she might do something crazy or relapse.”

You quietly listen to Misty explain herself with a soft smile as you scoff softly, pulling out your phone, “And here I thought you wanted to spend time with little old me.”

Misty squeals, “I did want to see you. I wanted to get a drink.”

“It’s okay.” You chuckle softly and say, “Sometimes you trade friends out for a night out. It’s alright, girl.”

Suddenly, Misty straightens her back and smiles softly. She lifts her drink to her lips as Natalie rushes to your table. You lean back on your chair with wide eyes, holding your chocolate martini.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Natalie hissed to Misty, standing in a black dress. She was clearly on a fate tonight, and you couldn’t help but feel a mumbling jealousy in your stomach as you looked at her.

“Okay, so, don’t look now, but,” Misty lowers her voice to a whisper and says, “that reporter, Jessica Roberts, is sitting at the bar right now. She’s watching you.”

“And what are you doing?” Natalie tilted her head to the side as she looked at Misty with suspicious eyes, her tone clear of annoyance.

“I’m having your back.” Misty stated.

“Y-you’re having my…” Natalie is in disbelief. “How did you even know I was even here?”

“I’m a citizen detective, " Misty said, looking at Natalie with big, innocent eyes.

“I hate to break it to you, but we’re not Rizzoli and Isles. I don’t need you.”

“Yeah, but, Natalie-”

“Go the fuck home.” Natalie spat.

“Alright, you need to stop talking to Misty like that-” You finally cut yourself into the conversation.

“Who are you speaking to?” Natalie snapped her head to you and said, “I expect this from Misty, but you? I don’t understand why you are here.”

“I’m here, having a drink with Misty. I saw her at her job, and we decided to get drinks.”

“Oh please, you came here to spy on me! How fucking pathetic. Don’t you have to write a book about rubbing off a genie?” She hissed at you and looked daggers into you. She went too far in your eyes now, and you lean on your elbow on the table as you look back into her eyes.

“Oh, aren’t you so strong and high mighty?” You hiss lowly to Natalie. Ever since the night in the woods with Natalie, you have had difficulty holding back your teeth when you feel cornered, even a little. “Misty is here protecting you and having your back like always. Because Jessica,” You point to the bar, Jessica looking to the bartender to order another drink, “Is here waiting for you to relapse to spill the beans about it. Stop biting at people trying to be there for you; you might not be so alone. Now go drink, and go on your date with goth freak Kevin Tang.” You cut coldly as you look into Natalie’s blue eyes. You grab your drink, lean back in your chair, take a sip.

“Make sure you don’t go too far. You might need to get another one of your coins, right? What does that make it 9 times you have gotten a sobriety coin?” you stab at her and mention her many times in AA. You didn’t care how hurtful or unnecessary your anger was to her. You must say it to her, and she needed to hear it. She needed to back off Misty.

It was intense, and it was real.

You didn’t need to bite so hard. But she didn’t need to bite first.

You two hold a glare as Natalie steps back and scowls at you. She doesn’t say a word. You know why.

It’s because you are right.

You feel Misty touching your hand and saying, “Are you alright? That was pretty harsh.” Once, Natalie returned to her table with a perfect smile mask.

“I’m alright. But I think we should go now.” You say softly as you touch Misty’s hand back,

Misty holds your hand with a squeeze quickly. She wants to hold you. You have protected her yet again from the wolves in the group.

You both held the heavy silence as you softly panted a bit. You felt it in the car; it was surrounding and whole. You were happy and open, as always.

In the car, you look over to Misty, noticing the flustered face she holds. She was always awkward, but you always found her adoring. As you both drive down to your home, the trees that pass hypnotize you into a calm place. You feel your body, and with each breath you take, cold air enters your nose, and an image of last night's dream comes to your mind. Running past trees, you felt as if you were back there somehow. Maybe it was because of the anniversary, the reporter, or Travis’s death; you couldn’t pinpoint it, but you felt a forgotten hunger you hadn’t felt in a long time. You let it take over like it did them because of the exciting thrill of it all again. It felt youthful and intense.

“Misty.”

“Yes?”

“Do you miss me?” You ask her as you softly touch a lint off her shoulder.

“W-what do you mean? I have been with you for the past two hours.” She says as she drives down your street.

“No. No, Misty.” You chuckle, and the hunger comes over you. You want to feel warm; you have been far too cold lately. “Have you missed me and the warmth we shared?”

You don’t understand yourself. You sound like you did all those years ago in the woods. How sexual you became without trying. It felt like the air around us darkened into lustful wants and licks. How natural you were with your body.

Misty was caught off guard by how quickly your words changed the car's atmosphere. The memories of the wilderness and how you looked her over suddenly brought back feelings that she thought were long gone. Misty’s throat tightened, and her heart quickened as she glanced over at you, taking in the expression on your face as you asked her the question. She slowly parked the car, her hands gripping the steering wheel tight “Y-yeah, I did…”

Your hand snakes onto Misty’s inner thigh, and your thumb rubs the fabric of her jeans. Your eyes stare down at your hand.

“Would you like to feel my heat again?” you whisper, feeling your hot breath hitting off her cheek. You don’t understand the tingling and desperatiness your cunt feels at this moment. You shouldn’t have touched her, spoken to her, or even considered thinking about her. You knew better than to let yourself cave into your primal instincts, instincts you have because of the wilderness with them. All the hurt in the woods manifested into want as it always did.

Misty’s breath hitches at the feeling of your hand on her thigh, and her heartbeat quickens in her chest as her skin tingles under your touch. It's almost as if no time has passed at all. Your words and desperate tone send a shiver down her spine as she glances over at you, her eyes darkening with lust and need. “Yes… please.” She whispered back, her voice filled with want. Your hand moves up her thigh and softly rubs the fabric at the crotch of her jeans. You could feel her heat underneath.

You lunged at Misty, cupping her cheeks with your hands. You pulled her into your face and kissed her. Your lips met and mashed together as your hands moved closer to her, pushing her back against the driver’s side door. Thank God you live on a dirt road.

Misty lets a small gasp into the kiss as your hand moves up her thigh. Her body already feels as if it's on fire. She responds to the kiss passionately, her desire for you growing with each passing second. She reaches up and grips your hair, pulling you closer as she deepens the kiss, her tongue exploring your mouth with desperate need.

(y/n) hands quickly work to unbutton Misty's jeans. You move your kisses off Misty's lips to her jaw and neck. Misty lets out a small moan as your lips move down her jaw. She leans her head back and closes her eyes, surrendering herself to the feel of your lips on her skin. The feel of your tongue moving down her neck, sending small licks and nips here and there, makes her shiver in pleasure. You softly growl in lust as you start to pull the jeans and underwear down her pale legs, your thumb touching the bare skin. She spreads her legs farther apart, allowing you to pull her jeans and underwear down, her breathing getting more labored with each passing second.

You quickly push your two fingers inside of Misty’s weeping cunt, and she dramatically moves her leg to the center console for you to have more of her. You move her head from her neck and just look at her as you push inside of her, a gasp rattling the car escapes from her.

You look into her brown eyes for a moment as you see when pleasure takes over her being as you feel her walls tighten around your fingers. You feel her pink, wet hole flex and twitch to your fingers; it feels like she hasn’t had sex in a long time as you start to pump your fingers into her.

Her hand locks into your hair, or more so your head, as she rubs her other hand on your shoulder. She softly pushes you down to her cunt as she rolls her head back in a deep moan. You feel the vibration on the pads of your pointer and middle fingers. You feel the hotness of her cunt as you lean down, her musk clouding your judgment and making you think of only one thing.

You lean down, pushing your body to the floor of the passenger’s seat, licking her cunt. You taste her flavor and wetness leaking from her clit. You circle your tongue around the bulb with reckless abandon. You feel her gushing onto your fingers, and her loud moans only encourage you to go harder.

“(y-y/n)! Honey- right there, yeah!” Misty’s needy, desperate moans fill the car up with hot air. Her legs shake as she rolls her eyes. She panted like an animal as you tongue into her, sucking up all her wetness as you could. You felt throbbing in your wrist as you curled your fingers up to touch her soft spot. You could have been here for days and not cared.

Misty grabs her breast as she arches her back to your mouth. She moaned louder and louder to tell you she was going to cum, but you didn’t care. You kept licking and sucking her juices.

“Sweet Jesus!” Misty whispers to the air as she feels you fuck her harder with your mouth. She finally lets out a high-pitched, needy groan as her feet curl, legs twitching. Her eyes closed as her head hit the glass of her door, and she leaned back to relish in the feeling. You bury yourself in her folds, looking up from her lap, and watch as she shivers, as your tongue doesn’t stop.

You move your mouth up to her clit again and your fingers into her hole, pounding her with an elemental need to feel your fingers caress her cervix. You don’t move again. You don’t care how uncomfortable it felt as your legs were pinched into the floor, or how the cupholder stabbed into your rib, or that your neck was throbbing so that you could hear your heartbeat. You wanted her, and you wanted to feel her ultimately come undone to your fingers again.

‘96

The clattering of some forks and spoons scrap across the plates, people talking over everyone else, and the heat of the fire warm the cabin’s first floor. Everyone was in a better mood after shooting practice and settling for the night. Travis sits alone in the corner of the room, rejected by everyone tonight as punishment. You felt yourself thinking about him being sad and alone in the corner. “Good.”

Jackie and Shauna sit beside you at the table, your attention entirely on them and their discussion about how Pamala Anderson’s sex tape scandal.

“I mean, she shouldn’t have been a slut and done it, is all I have to say.” Jackie shrugged and took a bite of the white fish, and her face cringed when she pulled out a small bone.

“No!” You say with a chuckle and shake of your head, “Someone shouldn’t have robbed their safe and sold the sex tape.”

“She shouldn’t have even done it. Like, who just does a porno if they are not a slut?”

“She was with her husband. Who else are you supposed to have a sex tape with?” Shauna asked as she shook her head at Jackie.

“No one! No one should ever do a porn! It's so degrading.”

“I don’t know, I don’t know how someone would want to make one, but she wasn’t with a whole lot of guys. She’s married to Tommy Lee. And it was supposed to be his thing for tour.”

“Yeah, who wouldn’t think a Mötley Crüe member would have a sex tape? I wouldn’t be surprised if they taped the many other women they have fucked,” You say as you delightfully eat the fish. It was fresh and delicious after days of only eating berries and leftover snacks you could find from the crash. You are having meat, and it feels like a real treat as you haven’t tasted anything as delicious in weeks.

Before you could continue, Van touched your shoulder as you looked at Jackie. You turned to her as she said, “Hey, do you have a sweater I can burrow? I don’t think anyone else has anything I can wear.”

You smiled big at Vanessa, nodding your head, and stood up. “Yeah, I have a few.”

“Where are you going?” Jackie asks sassily as you get up. She tilts her eyes at you.

Shauna looks up at you and is slightly confused, but she also asks, “Are you coming back?”

“Yeah, just getting something for Van, hold up.” You say as you start to walk away.

“Thanks, (y/n). You're a lifesaver.” Van beams as her smile moves with you. You touch her shoulder as you walk past her, and you walk over to the other side of the cabin to the bags.

You were one of the lucky ones that found all your luggage. You had your carry-on, luggage, and purse still intact and untouched from the fire. You were so happy to have your journal and book you haven’t finished, but you felt bad for everyone still looking for their things. Van could only find her carry-on; some didn’t have anything they packed. You all carried every bag you could find, but some still had missing clothes. Because of that, Van has been coming to you to burrow clothes as the only other heavy girl much smaller than you, so you let her burrow your shirts and hoodies since the crash.

A small sandwich bag falls to the floor as you open the bag and grab the heavy yellowjackets sweatshirt. It was your stash of weed with the rolling papers and filters. You blush as you quickly grab the bag from the ground and put it into your jeans pocket. You look behind you to see if anyone has seen that, with embarrassment painted all over your face.

You walk back over to Van and hand her the hoodie. You smile widely as you sit down. You didn’t want everyone to know you had weed, but you think that tonight would be the best night to do anything. You smile as you whisper into Jackie’s ear, “I have weed.”

She stops eating instantly, and her eyes bug out. She looks over at you and laughs, “What?”

You hit her shoulder softly as she laughs again, “You have what?”

“What?” Shauna asks, besides Jackie, and when you two make eye contact, it makes you laugh.

You whisper in Jackie’s ear again. “I have weed. Would we like a joint?” Jackie laughs and hits you on the shoulder, her mouth wide open in shock and amusement. She nods her head and whispers to Shauna, and you turn your head to Van, “Hey, I have a joint-”

“What?” Van asks as she leans her ear towards your lips. Your lips accidentally graze her ear, and you say, “I have a joint. Tell the other seniors. Don’t be suspicious; don’t tell the underclassmen.”

Van smirk grew wide on her freckled face as she nods her head, she says. “Okay, I’ll let them know. When are we doing this?”

“When everyone is asleep, " you tell her, knowing that if anyone overhears you, they will not understand what you are discussing.

You light the joint with a twig, puffing the air out of the end of the filter. You hear muffled giggles from Jackie and Shauna beside you. " Stop laughing,” you snicker back and pull the joint from your lips. You pull Shauna and Jackie to the back of the cabin and show them the weed you packed on the plane. You all decide to roll one out.

“Didn’t know you would have the good stuff,” Jackie smirks with an amused laugh in her voice. She takes a puff and hands it to Shauna with a muffled cough.

Shauna laughs softly as she also smokes and coughs in response to inhaling the smoke. She covers her mouth with her elbow, and you laugh at her.

Van moves behind the cabin's hunter shed, and Taissa, Natalie, and Lottie follow her.

“Hey!" you say to them as you take a hit of the joint and blow the smoke quickly.

Natalie says to you, “Damn, (y/n). Didn’t know you were such a criminal. Hand that over to me.”

You giggle happily as you hand it over to Natalie. You look up at her from your spot on the log. She looks down at you with heavy eyes as she takes a hit. She slowly looks over your face again before handing it over to Van. You felt a blush come over you again as you felt her eyes scan over your features, and you didn’t know what to do. You felt insecure and flattered at the attention but still deeply hesitated to meet her eyes.

Natalie, who never passes up a joint, reaches out her hand to take it from you while Taissa eyes it. Lottie looks at the joint and then at you with a tiny bit of concern; the others knew she’d probably be the one most concerned about the joint.

“Where’d you get that from?” Nat asks as she inhales the joint.

You felt yourself joke, “Where do you think I got weed from?’

“I don’t know. A drug dealer.” Van jokes to you with a scrunch of her freckled nose.

“Sort of. My mom is the one who has the weed. She has a weed card since she got diagnosed with cancer.” You said without realizing the words from your throat. You hadn’t thought about your mom almost all day, “She grows some behind our house in the woods, Natalie,” You point at her jokingly, “Don’t get any ideas. You have to buy that shit.”

Everyone laughs loudly at your joke. Lottie takes the joint and smiles, holding the smoke in her mouth. You look at your feet, and suddenly, your mother comes to mind. You think about your mom, and a lump grows in your throat. Did she take her night medicine? Is she watching Frasier? Is she worrying about you?

From the side of the shed, there is a crunch of leaves and twigs, and a petite figure comes from behind the shed. Natalie turns herself and turns back to face you. She gives you a face of “fuck it's her again.”

Misty comes from the shed, pushing a curl behind her ear as she looks at the group. You smile at her as Jackie rolls her eyes, smoking the joint beside you.

“Hey Misty! What are you doing here?”

“H-hi. I was going to the bathroom. What are you guys doing?” she asks nervously as she approaches the group.

“Drugs.” Lottie says as she looks at Misty with a humorous tone.

You laugh as you take the joint from Jackie and wave your hand to Misty to enter the circle, “Come closer, it’s okay; it’s legal here.” You joke, and it makes everyone laugh with bloodshot eyes. Misty chuckles and looks around at everyone in approval. Sometimes, it was painful to see her so desperate for some kind of friendship that it made you feel bad, so in your intoxicated state, you pulled your hand out for her, “You can try it if you want to, Misty. Sit.”

Misty’s eyes looked wide as everyone turned their head towards you as you invited her into the smoke circle, but no one stopped you. They seemed also to want to see what Misty does.

“I-I can? Is it safe?” she asks as she approaches the log beside you.

Jackie snickered and looked at Misty with narrow eyes, “No, that’s why we are all smoking on it.” She condescended.

You shake your head and take Misty’s hand. “Ignore her. Just don’t take a huge hit. You gotta get used to it, then you’ll want more,” You told Misty gently. You puff the joint before it goes out in the wind. Your body is starting to relax and calm in the woods, and your neck doesn’t hurt as much as it did earlier.

You hand Misty the joint, and everyone watching the scene plays out with amused eyes. You gently hold your hand over hers to guide her. “Have you ever smoked a cigarette?”

“No, they’re bad for you.”

You chuckle and nod, “Yes, but they are just like weed. You take small inhales, not like you're trying to breathe it in, but sip on a drink with a straw, okay? Baby puff.” You say, pulling the joint back to your lips and showing her.

Your lips wrap around the filter softly as you take a quarter breath in. You then dramatically hold it out and show that you take the rest of the breath through your mouth. You hold the smoke in for a moment and then let it out for her to understand. “You get it now?” you cough.

“I-I think.” she says as she takes the joint from you, holding it between shaky fingers. She takes a puff and then starts coughing furiously. Natalie took the joint from Misty’s shaking hand before it fell to the ground, she takes a puff inbetween her laughs.

Misty holds her fist to her lips as she tries to get all the smoke out of her lungs. Everyone laughs happily and claps for her when she does it, enjoying seeing Misty try something for the first time. You put your hand on her back to pat it gently. She seems to relax at your touch momentarily before finally getting her coughing under control.

“You finally tried marijuana for the first time!” You exclaim and rub a circle on Misty’s back, her cheeks crimson.

“It was amazing,” Misty breathlessly says as she looks at everyone else. Everyone is very high now, and their eyes are bloodshot and dry. You smack your lips, longing for a drink.

“Misty, have you ever drank?” Lottie asks as she sits with her knees to her chest. She tilts her head to the sides and watches Misty’s facial expressions. You didn’t understand the feeling you felt from her eyes. It felt almost like she was studying and calculating Misty. You have never seen that look on someone.

Misty studders and says, “Y-Yeah, I have. I stole some sherry from my mother’s cabinet.”

Van laughs a little “whoa” out as a joke about how mild Misty’s confession was, the smoke of the joint coming out of her mouth like the hot breath of a hunger wolf, and she says, “I’ve done crazier.”

Taissa looks at Van with a playful glare and says, “Like what?”

“I stole a whole bottle fo whiskey from my mom. And she didn’t even find out. She didn’t even realize she didn’t drink it, so she just got more for herself.” Van confesses with a smug smirk on her face, and Natalie chuckles and nods her head like she’s done that before to her mom. You felt a little wrong about what Van said because it made you feel like her mom had a nasty drinking problem.

“I did that before with my mom’s cigarettes.” Natalie says, “They never notice if you just take a few here and there.”

Jackie smirked and said, “I know every one of my mom's pills in the bathroom cabinet. I took a few for the trip. She’s never caught me before.”

“My dad is very strict with those things. I don’t think I can do anything without my parents knowing,” Lottie said, looking to the ground with a severe expression. You couldn’t put your finger on it, it her confession felt like it had a little more then she was letting on. Lately she has been off and talking more vague about things, and confessing more things about her life. Lottie’s parents were strict but the more you hear about them it sounds like they hover over Lottie’s every move.

“My mom just grows the shit, and I just take it.” You blurt out with your words softly slurring because you are high, and you realize you talked about your mom again. Was she okay?

Everyone laughs at how you talk and starts to laugh at their words sounding like yours—slurred and funny to hear.

You felt a sudden wave come over you as you laughed with your friends. It felt good—maybe too good—so good that it made you think about your mother. Was she okay? Did she get her pills on time? Did she bathe? Did she go to chemo?

In your laughter, your laughs turn to sobs in a second. You cover your mouth as heavy sobs leave your throat. You couldn’t help yourself. You couldn’t stop yourself.

Everyone slowly realized that your sounds weren’t in glee anymore; they were out of sorrow and a moment of weakness.

When you look, you see brown eyes, concerns, and worry on all the faces. You let out one thing that you knew was going to hurt them. Your body didn’t stop itself from letting out deep-seated sorrow.

“I’m sorry. I really miss my parents and momm- mom so much.” You whimpered as you wiped your tears. You had a full belly and a fire keeping you warm. But inside, you have never been so cold and helpless in these woods.

Everyone’s faces soften and twist in their sadness. We all know what we are feeling, and they also start tearing up. Everyone missed their parents, and you felt like an asshole even saying anything.

You sniffle and try to stop your tears. Being strong has worn you down, but you have a “strong shoulder.” Like your father always said, you can handle the hurt.

You say to everyone, “I think we all need some love right now. Group hug. Please.” Standing up, throwing the dying joint into the fire, moving your plush arms around to urge them to you.

One by one, they stood, hovered over you, and hugged you and each other—a moment of shared pain and joy. Being strong was hard, but as you felt them hold you, you felt a second wind. You have to get yourself and the others out of here. Out of these fucking woods.

Note 2: Sorry to anyone who wanted to be on the taglist and I couldn’t add you! I hope you still find this fic!

❀ A03 ❀ wattpad ❀ spotify playlist ❀

Taglist: @zhivaxo @h-doodles @homopheli @bigtimesalt8196 @juniperjean @scatorccioz @juniperjean @yaakooi @lottieswebs @juchily @freezinggay @deathly710-blog @ghostoflesbianism @marvelous-wandanatangel @errriiie @anskkks @deathvidal @slutforhotpeople @thursdayygrrrl @day-ziez @evewasheretoday @mayasaurusss @captainbabybear @eleanormall @mommyeater2000 @leonchef @mikititta @tigersarrcool @nyasbae @dykepvppy @jax1118 @oakwave @mmiah @dvrkhcld @swiftin0f @opheliadeservedbetter-27 @psychicdreamwonderland @pinkmoonzzz @under-your-bed-not-in-it @sadsapphic-rose @fictitious-sapphic

541 notes · View notes

kquil · 8 months ago

Text

PERFECT MATCH PART 2

PAIR. : poly!marauders x female slytherin reader

SUM. : despite being from Slytherin, as a fellow prankster, you give the marauders a helping hand

LENGTH : 1.2k

PART 1 | NAVI.

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

Peter had blown their cover, and now the boys were running from Slughorn, who had caught them red-handed, switching the necessary ingredients for the next potion class. They should have known that Peter wasn’t the best choice for a lookout, considering he was the first to get caught and promptly given detention with Filch. As they were running away, however, their camaraderie lingered when Peter called out to them, hoping they wouldn’t be caught.

The remaining three marauders make a valiant effort to run away as fast as possible. Remus stays a good few metres ahead of James and Sirius, his hidden athleticism sparking in only the most dire straits. Despite the potential threat of detention, the three grin widely through the chase; Sirius has the gall to laugh at the sheer amount of fun he’s experiencing. The freedom to break the rules and run freely from the consequences – only light penalisation in his eyes – was invigorating. None of them believe they would ever willingly stop their practical jokes, even Remus, no matter how much he denies it.

Racing through the halls with their youth pumping through their veins, Remus, James and Sirius make it so that Slughorn is considerably far behind them before slowing down. Between laboured breaths, they try to sort out their next move but quickly run out of time. Slughorn was quickly approaching according to their map and they resorted to hiding in a darkened hallway they don’t normally walk down. Consumed by the rush, they had managed to make it down to the dungeons just as you stepped out of the hallway they had barely hidden in.

They weren’t very good hiders but it was amusing so you kept your lips sealed despite your mischievous nature urging you to press them with questions. Your answer came swiftly in the form of Professor Slughorn, out of breath and keeling over with sweat drenching his brows.

So that’s what’s happening~

Immediately understanding the situation, you step out of the hallway to face your gasping head of house and restrain a devious giggle at the sight of the marauders’ widened eyes. They’ve seen you, see them hiding. They’re also familiar with your artfully scheming ways likened to their marauder group’s mischief; the fact that you’re a Slytherin, however, doesn’t bode well. Fuck…were you gonna out them?

You don’t need any prompting, already directing the professor before he’s managed to catch his breath, “Oh Professor~ by the way, if you’d really like to know…” Slughorn eyes you after finally catching his breath. Through the fog of his exhausted mind, he finds himself eagerly awaiting your direction, almost having forgotten why he was in his current state in the first place, “they went that way,” you point to the right, the opposite direction of the three tricksters. James, Remus and Sirius release a collective breath of relief but remain eager to see how the interaction may unfold further.

“Who did?” Slughorn asks, trying to navigate the smog of fatigue clogging up his brain.

“The marauders,”

“They did?” your potions professor brightens at the revelation. You guess he’s finally rediscovered his initial intentions. But woe is me~ can he trust you so easily?

“They did what?” you tilt your head innocently, casually continuing the conversation as if you hadn’t just thrown him for a loop with that curveball of a question.

“Went that way?” he points right, perplexed at your sudden change. It seems Professor Slughorn was still foggy in the head from his sapped stamina and the boys had to bite their lips from bursting out laughing – you’re a menace.

“Who did?” you ask, pulling the most innocuous expression the boys have ever seen a Slytherin muster. Have you grown more beautiful since their last interaction? They can’t help but keep staring at your sweet face and pretty, pouty lips…

“The marauders!” Slughorn insists but you continue your oblivious stance.

“What marauder?”

“But didn’t you just say?-- Oh never mind,” Slughorn gives up the chase and turns with a dull swish of his robes. For now, he’s satisfied that he, at least, managed to get Pettigrew. As soon as Slughorn was far enough away, you turn back to the crouching marauders and give them a wink, signalling that the coast was clear.

“My fair lady!” Sirius dramatically bows down and kisses your knuckles, “How may I ever repay your kind gesture?”

“Hmmm…” you seem to seriously contemplate his playful words for a moment, though Sirius doesn’t mind, he’s more than eager to pay you back for saving his hide. “Let’s see…” You press your hand flat against his chest and slowly move down. The sultry overtones of your gesture make Sirius’ heart pound as he, Remus and James stare wide-eyed and gaping at your soft hands fondling their close friend’s chest. Suddenly your hand becomes a blur as you pull back his robe and steal a licorice wand from his inner breast pocket. “This’ll do~” you chirp innocently and begin to nibble on your newly acquired snack. “I can always count on you to be generous, Siri,” your wink sends a dangerous heat crawling up Sirius’ neck and exploding across his pale cheeks. This has never happened to him with a girl before! He’s supposed to make you flustered!

Turning to Remus, you make a gesture with your hand as if to say ‘pay up’. However, when the tall brunette merely stares at you in wonder with a small, amused quirk on his lips, you raise a brow, “I know you’re loaded, Lupin. Gimme the goods,” and just like that, you also have Remus turning bright pink. How can you be so nonchalant and not realise the embarrassingly sexual innuendos underpinning your words?! Remus surrenders a peppermint toad.

James was the last one of the three you turn to as you pocket Remus’ liberal offer. “You don’t have to ask me, for anything,” James chuckles and easily provides you with a handful of Fizzing Whizzbees. With a victorious smile, like a cute little squirrel who’s happy with her hoard, you pocket James’ addition and lean forward to brush a kiss along his sharp jaw.

“I knew I could count on you, Potter,”

James was floored. Sirius had to lean against the wall and Remus was limp against the large window sill. All three stare with a mix of surging admiration and boyish wonder as you walk away with a skip in your step. You’re so happy, you even begin to hum a soft little tune to yourself.

“...wait… how come only James gets a kiss?” Remus asks, bringing Sirius back from his dazed state. James merely smirks in triumph – he’ll remember the softness of your pretty lips against his skin forever~

“Dearest!” Sirius calls, already jogging after you. “I think you’ve forgotten something!”

“Yeah,” Remus adds with a cheeky grin, leisurely making his way over with James at his side, drawling in his Welsh accent, “gives us a cusan,”

“What’s that?” you’ve stopped, curious as to what he may mean. From his tall height, Remus leans forward, bending at his hips and whispers in your ear.

“That’s a kiss, sweetheart,” he steals one anyway at the base of your ear, where your neck and jaw meet. The high sensitivity of the area makes you squeal in surprise, only to be kissed by Sirius too, who aims innocently for your cheek.

NAVI.

A/N : because of @urmomw4ntsme 's recent ask of wanting to see a Slytherin reader, it got me thinking about this request that i wrote last year for my 1k milestone. I couldn’t sleep until i finished writing this so it may not have the best grammar so please excuse me for that. this was also inspired by this interaction between Alice and the Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland.

#james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #poly marauders x reader #marauders x reader #poly marauders #marauders era #slytherin reader #marauders era fanfiction

615 notes · View notes

vivid-dreamscapes · 1 month ago

Note

Can I make a request please? KiriBaku or just Bakugo (if your not a fan of poly 🙈) noticing y/n hasn't been eating, suffering from ED since she was young but something triggered it again. I read one fairly recently and as someone struggling with the same issue, it just hit me in all the right places. I totally understand if you give this a hard pass since it can be triggering for others. Thank you

Yes, ofc! Ty for the request, and I’m happy to write this! I hope it can help bring comfort to people struggling with eating disorders. ❤️‍🩹

Kiribaku x Gn!Reader

Tw: Eating disorder, angst, cursing

Bakugou wanted to kill Mineta. He wanted to put a palm in his face and let out the biggest fucking explosion he could even muster. The only reason he hadn’t yet was because Kirishima reminded him that you probably didn’t want attention brought to you. And because, you know, potentially killing a classmate was a horrible idea.

It had all started two weeks ago, on a Wednesday. It had been your turn to make dinner for the class that night, and after a lot of studying, you were too tired to prepare a full-on meal. So, making a quick stop to the convenience store at the base of the hill UA was perched on, you made a bowl of instant ramen for every member in class 1-A.

Sure, you added certain vegetables, spices, eggs, or other ingredients to certain people’s bowls to make them a little fancier. But it was low effort, and honestly? Instant ramen didn’t sound too bad to 1-A either. Who wouldn’t want something so simple after one of the most hardcore week of training this semester?

Once you had set out everyone’s bowls, you sat down to eat your own. You had just been happily talking with Eijirou about some new move of his, when Mineta finally came and joined the group dinner.

“…wow [name]. Instant ramen? Is this what you eat regularly, cause that would explain why Mina looks skinned next to you.”

Instantly, Mina threw her fried egg at his face, shouting at him about how wrong he was, and how he’d really crossed a line. Everyone actually started yelling at him and defending you. But honestly…you didn’t even notice. You just stared at the food in front of you, suddenly feeling a loss of appetite.

And following that night, you’d slipped into an unfortunately all too familiar pattern. Checking the food labels. Eating the bare minimum. Checking the weight scale. Skipping out on meals.

The worst part? Nobody noticed. Not one person. You pushed it off as anxiety. Blamed it on the protein bar you told everyone you ate at the school gym earlier. That protein bar was never actually there. You said the meds you were taking came with loss of appetite as a side effect. You said you were fine.

It wasn’t until a couple nights ago, when it was Katsuki’s night to make dinner, that he finally took notice. The thing about your boyfriend…he’s a good fucking cook. And he damn well knows it. So he usually doesn’t give a shit about whether or not people like it.

But you and Eijirou are different. You’re his partners, his significant others. He wants you to like his food, craves your validation. So when he sees you barely ever touch his Horumonyaki, he’s kinda pissed.

“Oi.” He said, and you looked up form the napkin you had been fidgeting with. “Don’t like it or somethin’?”

“Oh no, Katsuki, it’s really good.” You said quickly, flashing him a nervous smile, which you disguised to be sheepish. “It’s just a bit spicy for me.”

Bullshit. He didn’t add any spice tonight because stupid Racoom Eyes kept complaining about how he always made his dinners, ‘too damn spicy’.

But he didn’t press anymore. He just told Eijirou. And for the next few days, they watched. They watched you eat lunch. They watched you eat snacks. They watched you eat breakfast, and they watched you eat dinner.

They watched you eat.

Or rather…

They watched you…not.

Until today. They decided they needed to do something about this. So they waited for the elevator to reach the floor your dorm was on. Katsuki had his fists clenched at his side, foot tapping impatiently. Eijirou looked at him in concern, placing a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

Once the entire door opened with a Bing, Katsuki stormed over to your dorm, Eijirou jogging in surprise to catch up.

“Oi!” Your angrier boyfriend of the two shouted, pounding on your door. “Open up idiot!”

“Katsuki, maybe they don’t want to be approached so aggressively.” Eijirou said, trying to reason with his explosive partner.

Regardless, you opened the door with a tired sigh. Your eyes were a little red rimmed, form being tired or having been crying, they couldn’t tell.

Originally, Katsuki had planned on giving you a very loud lecture and telling you that Mineta was fucking blind, and was spewing shit from his mouth. But seeing you so low, so out of energy, so…sad. It made him pause. And before he knew it, he was stepping forward, embracing you tightly.

You stumbled back a little in surprise, eyes wide before hugging him back. Eijirou quickly joined in on the hug, shutting the door to your dorm so nobody could spy on this personal, private moment.

So, after some gentle persuasion, you told them everything. How you’d struggled like this before. How you’d even trapped in this dark place for years, and had only been able to leave it a few months before coming to UA.

“I thought I was done with this.” You said through your tears, fists clenched on your knees. “I thought I was past this. God, it’s so stupid, and childish, and-“

“Hey, hey, hey.” Eijirou quickly cut you off, putting a hand on one of your trembling fists. He gently rubbed a calloused finger over your knuckles, giving you a soft look. “Nothing about this is childish. People having eating disorders though all ages in life, and not one of them is any more or less valid then the other.”

“Yeah, and not one of them is necessary.” Katsuki scoffed, and Eijirou threw him a look. “What?” The blonde asked gruffly, taking your other shaking fist in his two larger hands. “I mean that there’s no need to be so worried. Every body is beautiful. Just because one person says someone body looks one way, doesn’t mean the next person is going to see it the same way. And maybe they do. But maybe they find it attractive.”

You wiped a stray tear, trying to keep yourself from breaking down again. “B-But Mineta said-“

“Oh, Mineta said this?” Katsuki said, voice suddenly dark and angry. “Ohoho, I’m gonna fucking murder that little shit.”

Eijirou shot his boyfriend another warning look before rubbing your arms gently. “Listen, what Mineta said was out of line, and untrue. Remember when he called Jirou ugly? She’s not ugly, is she?”

You looked at him before shaking your head, wiping your eyes as your bottom lip grumbled a bit. “No. She’s really really pretty.”

“Exactly.” The redhead said with a smile, tilting his head. “So we already know Mineta’s judgment is pretty clouded.” He smiled, his words eliciting a laugh from you. He held up his hand, hardening it with his quirk. “Here. Squeeze it as hard as you need too, it won’t hurt.”

So you took his hand and squeezed the shit out of it, letting off some tension you hadn’t even noticed was in your shoulders. Smiling, you pulled back.

“Better?” Eijirou asked, and you nodded. Smiling, he and Katsuki scooted closer to you from both sides, wrapping their arms around you.

“We’re here for you every step of the way, [name].” Katsuki said gruffly, wiping a tear away with a rare smile.

Eijirou smiled and nodded, hugging you tighter. “We’re going to help you get through this. You’re not alone.”

!Not proofread!

Requests welcome and wanted! :)

204 notes · View notes

kookie-doughs · 3 months ago

Text

What's Wrong With The Slytherin?

Slytherin Gang X Reader

-Y/N L/N accidentally gets invited in a group chat.

Profiles

Chapter 1: I'm Gonna Leave

Chapter 2: Dont Skip Class

TBC

I'm obsessed with these boys and its so hard gathering stories about them

Tom is my favorite so I'm sorry if theres more moments with Tom than the others

I dont really know Mattheo and Lorenzo much so idk if theyll be ooc but this is how I see theyd act but i added them anyway because theyre hot af

I'm still unsure whether to make it poly since i want them all but i just dont see or think theyd all get together romantically

I'm not a hufflepuff but for the sake of the story :3 I added some characters and made up people since i need to for the story just dont mind the thingies

I didn't add Regulus bcuz hes a Marauders era type of guy. why add Tom? because i prefer Tom and its not like he has his era of people yk

idk what else to add here so I thinn ill end the note here I hope you enjoy the story i love you alll <3

-kookiedoughs

Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @starfulani

229 notes · View notes

kathryn-maraudersversion · 2 months ago

Text

Serpents & Stars Part 3

Summary: You refuse to admit your feelings for the Marauders. They refuse to let you push them away. It’s a battle of wills, and you are absolutely determined to win.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders (James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin) x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt11

After that night on the Astronomy Tower, you decided you were going to ignore it. All of it.

The way James looked at you like you were his favourite challenge.

The way Sirius got too close just to make you squirm.

The way Remus saw right through you every damn time.

It didn’t matter.

You didn’t like them. You couldn’t like them. Right?

Ignoring them was easier said than done because they weren’t making it easy.

“Morning, sweetheart,” James greeted you in the Great Hall, sliding into the seat beside you even though this was the Slytherin table, and he had no business being here.

You shoved his arm off the table. “Go away, Potter.”

James beamed. “You’re so cute when you pretend you don’t like me.”

You resisted the urge to throw your goblet at his face.

You were reading by the Black Lake when Sirius flopped onto the grass beside you, head resting in your lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You froze. “What the hell are you doing?”

He grinned up at you, completely unbothered. “Getting comfortable.”

Your hands clenched into fists. “Move.”

He stretched out more. “Make me, princess.”

You shoved him off. He laughed the whole way down.

Remus, of course, was the most dangerous.

Because Remus didn’t flirt obnoxiously like James, and he didn’t invade your space just to watch you react like Sirius.

No. Remus was subtle. Remus was kind.

Which meant that when he brushed a stray piece of hair from your face during study sessions, you couldn’t even pretend he was being annoying.

When he carried your books after class, you couldn’t even call him a show-off.

When he gave you the last chocolate in the pack without saying a word, you couldn’t even insult him for it.

Remus wasn’t fighting you. Remus was just there, waiting, knowing and that was the worst part.

They knew you were cracking.

It happened on a particularly bad day.

Professor Slughorn had paired you with an absolute idiot in Potions, and after an hour of them nearly setting the classroom on fire, you had a splitting headache.

You stormed into the library, slamming your books onto the table.

The second you sat down, a fresh cup of coffee slid across the table to you.

You blinked at it. Then at the hand that had placed it there.

James, Sirius, and Remus sat across from you, watching you expectantly.

Sirius smirked. “You looked like you needed it, love.”

You stared at the coffee. It was exactly how you liked it.

“…This means nothing,” you muttered, grabbing the cup.

James grinned like he had won something. “Of course not, sweetheart.”

Remus just sipped his tea, amused.

You hated them. You hated them so much.

It was late.

You were sitting in the Gryffindor common room (Dorcas has dragged you along to say hi to Marlene), the fire flickering, when it happened.

A group of Gryffindor girls walked past, giggling and whispering about James and Sirius. About how handsome they were. About how Remus was the sweetest and something in your chest tightened.

You scowled, shaking the thought away.

It didn’t matter. They were annoying. You didn’t care if other people liked them.

You didn’t care.

And then you saw them.

James, Sirius, and Remus, sitting across the room, laughing together, smiling, looking like the sun itself lived in their bones.

And you felt it.

That undeniable, horrible, traitorous ache.

You wanted to be near them.

You wanted to be in that light.

You cursed under your breath, standing up so fast your chair scraped the floor.

No. No.

You wouldn’t do this. You wouldn’t-

“Going somewhere, love?”

Sirius was watching you, his grey eyes too knowing.

James and Remus turned too, curiosity flickering in their faces.

You clenched your jaw. “Bed.”

James smirked. “Need company?”

You scowled. “Die, Potter.”

Sirius laughed. “She’s flustered. It’s adorable.”

Remus just tilted his head, studying you.

And you? You ran.

Taglist: @amatoanima @flaviaandbooks @nymanas

367 notes · View notes

reneesghostinthelivingroom · 7 months ago

Text

Northshore Nowheres part 3

part 1 || part 2

|| poly!plastics x fem!reader

|| Warnings; reader takes the place of Aaron sorta, Cady has a crush on reader, jealous/possessive Regina, underage drinking, Cady being a little cringy and awkward around reader, long fic, mentions of reader having a black eye

|| Summary; during math class, reader helps out Cady. Bringing the two closer. Reader ends up inviting Cady to Halloween party, where Regina takes matters into her own hands.

Requests open!

Started; october 29th

Finished; october 30th

~~~

Calc. Again, great. You sat at your desk as you waited for Ms Norbury to start her lesson, you'd only just gotten there a few moments ago but you were already bored with it. That's when you noticed Cady walk in, wearing.. what the hell were those shoes? Pink heels? Girl, this was highschool. But you played nice, after all she's been nice to you.

As Cady took her seat, you looked back at her and smirked. Glancing at her shoes before looking at her," new shoes?" You asked.

"I.. yeah, Regina gave them to me." Cady smiled at you and you awkwardly smiled back at the mention of the girl you were seeing.

"Oh, I didn't know you guys were friends." You replied, feeling a little awkward as you turned away. Cady was part of the plastics? Maybe you had seen her with them a couple of times now that you thought about it. Huh. Little unexpected, she really didn't seem like the plastic type of girl but maybe you were wrong about her.

"Okay, let's get back into it. Continuity, removable discon- Cady, eyes up front please." Ms Norbury said," let's get back into where we were Thursday, who was awake- Thursday? Who was still awake?"

Sometime later, it was another math class. With not much interesting happening, but at one point Cady nudged you and you leaned back to look at her.

"Do you like gum?" She asked with a smile.

"Sure," You held your hand out.

"Oh, I don't have any- I was just.." She gave you an awkward smile and you smiled awkwardly back. Wondering what that was about.

Then, there was this other time. You'd complimented her shirt to be nice, Cady smiled at you and sat at her desk. "Thanks, it still smells like sausage from the last time I wore it." You turned to look at her, a little confused by her comment. Cady was an odd one, that's for sure.

When class was over, you met up with the plastics that night. Who had officially made you their girlfriend earlier that week. Things were going great and you couldn't wait until the Halloween party later the next month. And speaking of Halloween, luckily for you your black eye from a couple weeks ago was finally clearing up. So you wouldn't have to go as a sexy pirate; although you did consider the look.

Another time in Calculus, you'd forgotten what day it was. Instead of trying to wrack your brain you decided to just ask Cady about it. You turned to look at her, confusion on your face," what day is it?" You asked.

"It's October 3rd." Cady answered quickly and you smiled, thanking her before turning in your seat. Did the date just echo in your mind or were you going insane? You could have sworn you hard an ✨October 3rd✨ from somewhere.

That was almost two weeks ago, today there was another Cady moment. You were taking notes when Cady got your attention, asking you for help in her work. "I'm totally lost, can you help me?" She turned her paper to look at you, you glanced down at her work and raised an eyebrow. Cady was lost? You weren't sure how much help you'd be, but luckily you'd been paying attention during Ms Norbury's lecture this time and had some idea what to do. Or so you thought.

You pointed to her paper and looked at her, whispering back your response," it's the derivative of the natural log function. You just take the reciprocal of the LN."

Cady looked down at her work, then back at you as she smiled," thanks. You're so smart."

You laughed a little, feeling a bit sheepish at her compliment and turned to your own work. You weren't used to being described as smart and you hoped that actually helped her. It did not though, you were wrong.

Another day, you were helping Cady with the class work again. She seemed so focused on you," oh, um so it's H prime of X equals five." You explained, writing it down for her," you just forgot the Product Rule."

"I don't get any of this," Cady shook her head, Ms Norbury tossed down her test to her and you happened to get a look at the score.

"Nice job, Cady." Ms Norbury said to her, then continued handing out the papers. You raised an eyebrow at Cady. What was this girl's deal? She kept asking you for help but her grades were completely fine? You knew you weren't that good of a teacher. Something was up.

"It sure seems like you get it," You told her. Turning back to your own desk, Cady scoffed but you didn't hear it. Then the bell rang and you packed things up.

"Hey, Chris is having a Halloween party." You started to tell her as you stood, Cady was your friend. So what was the harm in inviting her? Plus, she was new. She probably hasn't had the chance to go to a house party yet," would you want to come to that?" You asked her. Cady gathered her things and looked at you, she smiled as she listened. She always smiled at you. Though you decided to explain a little further, knowing she may not have understood completely. "It's like a costume party. People get pretty into it."

"Grool." Cady said suddenly, making you pause and blink at her in confusion. Grool? She started explaining with her hands as she talked," uh- I meant to say great, and then I started to say cool."

"Okay." You laughed awkwardly, Cady was weirdly adorable sometimes. "Grool." You replied, heading out of the class.

Chris' Halloween party crept up pretty quickly; since you didn't need to go as a pirate anymore, you went as a red devil to match with Regina's angel costume. You arrived to the party on your motorcycle and parked it somewhere a bit away. Not wanting any of your fellow students to mess with it. After all, your motorcycle was basically your baby. Then headed in to meet up with the plastics. You found Regina first; she was not hard to miss and made your way over to her.

"Damn, did you fall from Heaven or what?" You couldn't help it. The line was right there, after all she was dressed as a damn angel. And looked damn good, too. You hoped you might get to take that off her tonight..

"Hey, you." Regina gave you a once over and smirked, taking in your outfit. Sexy red devil was a good look on you. Regina was clearly a few drinks in, you could tell by how flushed her cheeks were, but you didn't really care. You'd just make sure to keep a good eye on her.

Screams caught your attention and you glanced over to see Gretchen and... Cady? Damn, maybe you should have explained things better to her. You saw Regina texting someone and Gretchen replying on her phone so you assumed it was each other.

"She looks so weird," Regina told you. Smirking as she looked over at Cady, though her eyes widened a bit when she read the next text.

Gretchen; CADY LIKES Y/N

You didn't see the text but the annoyance on Regina's face was clear as day. You raised an eyebrow at her," what's up?" You asked, she rolled her eyes and scoffed.

"Nothing, shut up." Regina muttered and you sighed.

"Alright.." You knew how Regina could get sometimes, so you tried not to let it bother you. You glanced at Cady, who was walking away from Gretchen. Also looking a little upset. You wondered what was going on behind the scenes between your girlfriends and Cady. You wanted to follow after, but figured Regina probably wouldn't like that. You made an excuse instead.

"I'm going to go get a drink and see if my gang's around, I'll catch up with you." You told her and she let you go, you did go get your drink. That wasn't a lie, but you didn't look for your biker gang. Instead you ran into Cady, wanting to see how she was doing. You knew she probably wasn't used to this kind of scene.

When you found Cady again, she was helping Karen get down off a stool. You walked over and smiled," Cady!" At that same moment, Cady let go of Karen and she fell right to the ground. You rushed over and helped her up, she gave you a kiss on the cheek then bounced off to go find Gretchen. You watched her leave with a smile and turned to Cady.

"Hi!" Cady waved at you.

"Hey," You walked up to her and jokingly screamed at her outfit, thinking it was pretty cool," I like your costume. You're different from everyone else's." You assured her, remembering she looked pretty down after talking to Gretchen. Though she seemed okay enough now.

She laughed a little," I didn't know I was supposed to- ah-" She took out the fake teeth and you both laughed," I'm such a weird foreign loser."

"No, it's great. You want a drink?" You asked.

"Thanks, uh- do they have juice?" Cady asked and you tried not to laugh again. Juice?

"Juice? I can check, wait here." You told her and headed away. Regina met up with you again not too long after, just as you were getting the drinks.

"Hey, I need to talk to you." She said once she caught up, you raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Here I thought you wanted me to shut up," You teased, taking a sip of your own drink while holding Cady's. Regina's eyes went to the extra drink in your hand and she tried not to seem annoyed. Why were you being friendly with Cady? Regina had to end that.

"Oh, shut up." She said to you again.

"There it is," you smirked and she narrowed her eyes at you. You raised your hands in innocence.

"Whatever. 'Cause you know that homeschooled girl, Cady?" Regina started. Giving Cady a wave and you raised your glass to her with a smile.

"Yeah, I invited her tonight." You explained.

"Yeah, well, be careful. 'Cause she has a huge crush on you." Regina laughed, you were surprised. Cady had a crush on you? That definitely explained a lot of things.

"Really?" You put your focus on Regina, not sure how you were supposed to take that information. After all the plastics were your girls now.

"Ugh, you're my girlfriend. She's my.. friend and she's like really inexperienced and um.." Regina looked at you again," well I just don't want you talking to her."

"Regina?" You were confused by that. What was she going on about? It isn't like you really liked Cady. She wasn't your type, she was just a friend that you helped.

Regina scoffed and walked away, making you chase after her.

"Hold on a second-! I didn't even do anything?" You followed after like a lost puppy trying keep up. She walked through the crowds, crowds that seemed to almost stand still and sway under her command. Making it hard for you to get to her.

By the time you'd finally caught up to her, Regina'd backed you against the wall. Walking closer to you with a smirk, clearly trying to make some possessive show on you in front of Cady. "God, you're hot.. why do you even where a shirt?" You'd heard her mutter, making your cheeks flush," damn, you're fine.."

She leaned in close, her hands resting to your hips as she pulled you flush against her. Regina didn't waste any time; her lips were moving against yours in a matter of seconds. Her tongue slipped past and you vaguely heard someone gasp in the crowd but you hardly cared. Regina George was kissing you.

310 notes · View notes

lives-between-lines · 1 year ago

Text

With her sweetened breath and her tongue so mean - poly!marauders x slytherin!reader

─

Summary: Preparing for the dreaded OWLs proves to be a difficult task for one tightly-wound Slytherin. How do Remus, James, and Sirius each offer assistance, and how does she handle it?

Notes: No Voldemort, but pureblood elitism is still very much a thing. Story starts at the end of the Marauders and Reader’s fifth year. I don’t know the most about all the Marauders Era headcanons so I kind of did what I wanted, sorry if you don’t like it.

Tags: Angst, fluff, traumatized Slytherins, pureblood elitism, slightly mean!reader

Words: ~7.8k

p.1 p.2

─

I huffed as I reached for another heavy book on the shelf from one of the dark back corners of the library. I wasn’t in the restricted section just yet, but getting close to it. Between the weight of the other five books stacked in my arm and the height of the shelf I was trying to reach I nearly dropped them all.

“Careful, there, Princess. Might break something lugging around all those books,” someone said next to me. I nearly jumped as I hadn’t noticed anyone come down this same aisle.

I shot a glare at him for startling me. It was none other than Remus Lupin, one of those pesky Gryffindors who was constantly fighting me for my space at the top of the class. My glare intensified when I realized who it was.

“Yes, and it would sure be a shame if I managed to drop these on your foot and break something there,” I snarked.

He looked amused at me. “Whoa, Princess, no need to get feisty with me. I was just going to offer my assistance.”

“And what kind of assistance should I accept from you when you’re just as likely to try and trick me?” Lupin gave me a weary look. Typical of Gryffindors to think everyone is as blindly trusting as them.

“No tricks, Princess, just offering a bit of help,” he said with a shrug.

“Would you stop that? Stop calling me that,” I snapped at him before turning back to the book I needed. Before I could make a second attempt to reach for it, Remus stepped up next to me and I froze. But then he grabbed the book for me and set it on top of my stack then took a step back.

“Not a fan of your nickname?” He was of course referring to me being known as Slytherin’s Princess. Sometimes I like to pretend the nickname came about because I’m always top of the class, making my house proud, but I know the real reason is because I come from a wealthy, pureblood, Slytherin family and everyone thought me rather spoiled.

“I am not some simpering girl in need of a man to save her and it’ll do good for the people in this school to remember that.” Despite his significant height, I lifted my chin to Remus Lupin and dared him to say otherwise.

“Of course, of course,” he agrees, nodding his head and holding up his hands. “But you are Slytherin’s Princess, aren’t you?” His eyes light up in amusement at my frustration.

My nostrils flare as I hold back my anger. It doesn’t do me any good to blow up at some stupid Gryffindor, not when that is exactly what he wants and I am not in the business of giving Gryffindors what they want.

Instead, I turn to walk away. Take the high-ground as they say.

“Wait, wait, I’m sorry!” Remus calls after me, quickly catching up to and following me. “Seriously, dove, I’m sorry. I was only joking. Please, let me help you with whatever on earth you could possibly need all these books for.”

I stop abruptly and turn toward him. “And why should I accept help from someone like you?” I nearly growl at him, barely holding back my frustrations.

Remus looks taken aback by my words. “Someone like me? You mean a half-blood?”

It’s my turn to be startled by him. “I mean a Gryffindor,” I bite out. This was exactly why I couldn’t stand this brutish group, they were always so quick to jump to outrageous assumptions, thinking the worst of someone like me just because I’m in Slytherin.

He looks relieved and confused at the same time, but I don’t really care to help him unpack his complex emotions about the exact reasoning behind why I don’t trust him.

I dump my books down onto the table I had claimed earlier and began to scour the table of contents in the first one. Uninvited, Remus took the chair next to me and began looking over my shoulder at the book.

“Can I help you, Lupin? Or are you just interested in being a nuisance?”

“I’m glad to be a nuisance any day, but as I’ve said before I was actually hoping to help you.”

“And as I’ve said before I’m not looking for any help.”

“But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Is that this close to our OWLs you’re scouring books for something that you think you’ve missed, but you’ve been at the top of our classes all year, so I highly doubt you’ve managed to miss anything of real importance.” I give him a confused look, trying to discern how he’s figured me out so easily. Except he’s wrong, of course, I did somehow manage to lose the year a specific herb was realized to have certain medicinal properties. “So now I’m trying to answer the question of what does little miss Slytherin Princess think that she desperately needs to know, and will that really be the determining factor in her score on her OWLs?”

I glance around to make sure no one else is listening to me admitting defeat in front of a Gryffindor. “I don’t have the year we began to use hyssop to treat earaches,” I murmur.

Remus’s face seems to fall at my admission. “That’s what you’re so concerned about? A minor herb’s medicinal use? Not even that, you already know that, but what year that was discovered? That is such a niche detail, there is absolutely no way Sprout asks us that.”

I roll my eyes. “Obviously Sprout’s not going to ask us about that, it’s Binns that I’m worried about,” I explain. Although I really shouldn’t be giving my enemy any help in preparing for our upcoming tests. I was just as desperate to best him on these tests as I’m sure he was me.

“Binns?” He asks, outraged. “Binns would never ask about that in a million years.”

“You don’t know that, no one knows that. We had a lecture on the history of medicinal herbs, hyssop was one of them.”

“And so you really think that from that one lecture he’s going to ask us when hyssop was discovered to help with earaches?”

“I was reviewing my notes and I had written down the year but it got smudged.”

“You’re actually a raving lunatic,” Remus tells me. He looks around the library like he might get up and leave, but then he turns back to me. “I realize these are the most important tests of the year, but I think you have way overestimated the difficulty of the questions that will be on them.”

“And I think you can never be too safe.”

We hold each other’s gaze for several moments. Remus finally blinks and then sighs. “Confound it all, fine. Hand me one.” He holds his hand out expectantly.

I stare at him, confused.

“Well? Are we going to look for this blasted year or not?” I blink out of my stupor and hand him one of the books I had grabbed.

We sit in silence for a long while, pouring over the texts. The only sound in this part of the library is us turning pages. The first book I look through doesn’t contain my answer, and neither must the book Remus has. Although I am tempted to go back later and double check he didn’t find it and not tell me in an effort to trick me.

After I get through two more books and Remus goes through three, I can’t stop myself from asking the question that had been nagging in the back of my head the entire time.

“Why exactly are you helping me? Surely you’d much rather be focused on your own studying.”

Remus slowly pulls his attention away from the book in front of him. He blinks at me and then furrows his brows. “Sorry, I know you said something, I just didn’t quite catch what,” he admits.

I can’t help the small laugh at his honesty. “Why are you helping me? I thought you’d want to be studying for your OWLs.”

“I am studying for my OWLs,” he replies, tauntingly. I roll my eyes at him.

“Come on, you know what I meant,” I push.

He shrugs and I think that’s going to be all the answer I get, then after a pause he says, “you’ve intrigued me. I’m curious now to find out when we started using hyssop for earaches.” There’s something about his tone that’s off, but I mark it down to him just teasing me. “Besides, I’m already plenty prepared to get a perfect score and take my spot at the top of the class.”

I laugh at his taunting. “Clearly not prepared enough if you’re not well versed in the history of hyssop,” I tease back.

He gives me a winning smile and something in my chest stutters at it. I must just be unsettled by his obviously false flattery.

“Can I ask you something in return?” He asks after a moment.

I consider him, then reply, “I don’t promise to answer, but you’re welcome to ask.”

He smiles again and this time it feels like my heart has been squeezed just a bit. “Well I suppose that’s fair. But are you always so…” he trails off and I get nervous at where he’s going with this. “Well, are you always so intense about knowing every little detail?” He finally finishes.

It must be relief that floods my veins when he doesn’t ask anything backhanded or rude. I actually give him a smile before glancing down at my lap.

“I have to be, don’t I? There’s one way to stay where I am and it’s by rigorous study,” I admit.

“Is it really so important to stay at the top that you have to obsess like this, though?”

I think back to what happened when I would slack off with my studies at home before coming to Hogwarts. I can’t help the way my face falls at the memories.

“I suppose it might not be so important to a Gryffindor, but success is a high priority in Slytherin,” I finally respond. It seems when I don’t know how to react I lash out, although Remus is lucky to have caught me in a good mood as I let him off rather easily.

Nonetheless he still looks a bit dejected by my response. I feel a bit bad for shutting him down when we had been starting to get along rather well.

“We should probably focus on the matter at hand, though, if we ever want to find our answer before curfew,” I say, returning to the book in front of me.

“Right…” Remus murmurs. Part of me expects him to leave at that point, after all that’s when everyone else does. He surprises me when he stays and doubles down his efforts.

I open my mouth, to say what I’m not entirely sure. I close my mouth again when I realize that I want to apologize. There’s no way that Remus wants some half baked apology from me.

Time passes in silence, the both of us occupied with our search, but my mind keeps wandering to the way I had snapped at Remus. I didn’t understand why he had sat down to help me, but I shouldn’t have antagonized him for asking a simple question. It wasn’t his fault that the answer wasn’t so simple.

I can’t help stealing glances of him every few minutes, which significantly hinders my speed in reading my book, but Remus doesn't seem to notice and I can’t get myself to stop. This means that I notice almost immediately when Remus freezes suddenly. I try not to react, not wanting to have been caught looking.

“Holy shit!” He nearly shouts, someone nearby shushes him loudly, but he’s too busy jumping out of his seat to mind. “Oh, Merlin’s beard I actually found it!” He whispers loudly this time and pumps his fist. Standing at his height above me while I sit next to him I have to strain my neck to look up at his face, but it’s such a beautiful sight with how excited he is.

“You mean you actually found the year?” I ask, matching his excitement.

He nods enthusiastically at me then points to the line of text that contains the answer we’d spent hours searching for. “Yes, yes, look! It’s right there.”

We celebrate as quietly as we can and I quickly jot down the information into my notes.

“Oh, thank you, Remus! You’ve just saved me probably three hours.” I stand to join him. It’s then that I finally check the time and realize just how close it is to curfew. “Ah, shit,” I murmur. “We should turn in for the night. I don’t fancy having a run-in with Filch tonight.”

“Let me walk you to your dorm?” Remus offers.

“What? It’s nearly curfew, you’ll risk getting in trouble with Filch. No, I’m perfectly capable of seeing myself to my dorms for the night,” I reply firmly.

“Don’t worry about me, dove, I can handle myself. Let me walk you to your dorm.” This time Remus sounds more like he’s telling me than asking me. Nevertheless I nod in agreement and we make our way to the Slytherin common room in the dungeons.

On the way down, Remus teases me lightly about how obsessed I must be to dedicate so much effort into finding such a small detail. I tease him back about him being a nerd for helping me look for the answer. It’s lighthearted and easy and part of me thinks I could get used to having Remus as a friend. Another part of me questions what it would look like for me to be friends with a Gryffindor and whether my parents would approve or not. Then the first part kicks the second part for being such a self-obsessed ass.

Just outside the entrance to the Slytherin common room I wave goodbye to Remus and wish him a good night. I try not to blush when he calls me “dove,” and dart into the safety of the common room.

─

The next few weeks Remus seems to make it a habit of running into me in the library when I would otherwise be alone. In the past I had tried studying with Narcissa or Andromeda but the pair of them had bad habits of wanting to chat while I wanted to actually study, so my time in the library had previously been spent alone.

Remus was different, though. He understood my desire to focus on the material in front of me and not whether or not his hair was looking frizzier than normal.

Before I knew it I had come to rather enjoy his company. It felt almost reassuring that there was someone else who was similarly interested in studying, but wanted to do it with me. Somehow it was like studying at the same table as him made studying that much better, even if nothing of substance had changed.

─

On a Saturday morning, a couple weeks before we were to begin taking our OWLs, I went out to the Black Lake just before the sun rose. I had slept fitfully, getting more and more nervous for the tests ahead of me. There was so much pressure to do good on these, I didn’t know what I would do if I were anything less than perfect.

I don’t know why exactly I came out here, I just knew that I needed fresh air. Without much else of a plan, I sat down at the trunk of a tree and pulled out my wand. I practiced a couple small charms and transfigurations on the branches and rocks around me.

“I’d say that rock doesn’t stand a chance against you, but I’d like to know what it did to deserve such treatment in the first place.”

I dropped the spell I had been using to propel the rock in the air and it fell swiftly. There likely wasn’t anyone in the school who I would not have been shocked to see, but I was especially shocked it was none other than James Potter. He’s a fairly popular boy my age in Gryffindor, mostly known for his outspokenness and disruptive behavior. If my memory serves me right, which it always does, he’s actually friends with Remus Lupin.

“What are you doing out here so early?” I can’t help but ask.

“I could ask the same of you,” he points out. I finally take him in at that moment. He’s wearing loose shorts and an old Gryffindor quidditch t-shirt that he’s cut the bottom half off to show off his athletic build. His curly hair is a mess atop his head, but I get the notion it’s always like that. When I meet his eyes I’m struck by how blue they are that I can notice even with him standing several feet in front of me. I can’t help but think to myself how pretty he is. He gives me a dorky smile, as if used to the attention but still not sure how to respond.

“Couldn’t sleep so well. Thought some fresh air would do me some good,” I finally answer, not acknowledging how I’d just been looking at him.

“Some fresh air and tormenting rocks?” He teases.

“Is that all you think we Slytherins do? Torment everything?” I huff.

His face twists at my response. “No, no that’s not what I meant at all. It was just a joke, most people laugh at them.”

I sigh and lean back against the trunk of the tree. “I’m sorry, I’m just a bit on edge,” I admit, though I’m not sure why I feel the urge to open up to this next to perfect stranger.

James takes a few steps closer and I tense up, but he just takes a seat next to me under the tree. “What’s got you so on edge?”

“Is that another one of your jokes? The OWLs obviously.”

“Oh, right. I suppose those are coming up soon.” He pauses and tears some grass in front of him. “What’re you stressed over those for?”

My brows pinch together and I stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “They’re only the most important tests of the entire school year, of our entire schooling career thus far! These will determine our entire futures.”

It’s James’s turn to look at me like I’m crazy. “They’re just another test, though. And I really don’t see how they’ll determine our entire futures,” he says plainly.

I scoff and roll my eyes. Leave it to a Gryffindor to blow off something so important.

“Look, I know you’ve got this whole thing about being perfect in every subject and staying ahead of everyone else, so I’ll make you a deal.” I turn to him, my interest piqued. “If you do any less than perfect on each of your OWLs, I’ll turn all the professor’s hair purple,” he offers.

My jaw drops at his suggestion. “What on earth would that accomplish?”

“Well I figure people won’t be talking about what grade you got on your OWLs if they’re too busy talking about Dumbledore with a lilac beard,” he’s laughing even as he says it. I laugh, too, at that image.

“Make it bright pink and I’ll help you,” I reply through giggles.

James gives me his award-winning dorky smile and I can’t tear my eyes away.

“Seriously, though, I’ll bet you’ve already gotten perfect scores on every other test this year, there can’t be anyone else more prepared than you.”

“Thank you,” I mumble, not used to outright compliments that weren’t also an insult. My gaze falls to where James is still fiddling with the grass. “A bit antsy, are you?”

“Sorry,” he sighs, “I’ve been trying to work on that. I actually came out here to go for a run, it helps me burn some of my extra energy before the day so I can focus a bit better.”

I can’t imagine wanting to start the day by burning through energy, I often woke up with barely enough to make it through the day.

“Oh, I’m sorry to be keeping you. I can go back inside if you want to run by yourself,” I offer and even before I finish talking, I’m pushing to stand up.

“No, no you’re fine!” He’s quick to reassure me. “Please, stay. Actually if you want you could join me, it might help you clear your mind.”

I consider for a moment before deciding to agree. There couldn’t be much harm in it, it was still at least another hour before most people would get up for the day and I didn’t have anything better to do.

While we run I can’t help glancing over to James, who’s clearly in his own world.

The sun began to peak over the horizon, slowly illuminating our path. At one point the sun is behind James when I steal another glance at him, and the way the light catches on his features makes him look like a real life angel.

James proves to be right, the run did help me to clear my mind. When we stop back where we had started I’m feeling significantly lighter than before, even if I am breathing significantly heavier.

“That was… fun,” I am slow to admit. “Thank you, Potter.”

“Anytime, darling.” He gives me another goofy smile. “Feel free to join me whenever you like, I come out at the same time everyday.”

“I just might take you up on that.”

─

I don’t know what makes me do it, but I take James Potter up on his offer every day for a week straight. I quickly come to enjoy the ritual of it, waking up before dawn, sneaking out of my dorm, getting the fresh air and clearing my mind before the day.

James’s presence was a reassuring one, even if we didn’t always talk much. I had the sense that he would listen to anything I needed to say and offer encouragement.

As our OWLs loom ever closer I come to rely on our runs to center me in the mornings more and more, but I also question how long James will continue to let me join him. He never says anything to indicate he doesn’t want me to join, though, so I take him at face value and keep meeting him under our tree every morning.

─

The night before we’re to start our OWLs I find myself unable to sleep for even a minute. Of course this wasn’t a problem for my dorm mates who had fallen asleep at least two hours ago.

I toss and turn, thinking that maybe if I could just get comfortable I could get to sleep. Of course I have no such luck. Eventually I decide that drastic times call for drastic measures.

I don’t have to worry about being too quiet as I climb out of my bed, pull on a jumper, and slip on my sneakers. I’ve mastered this routine from sneaking out for my morning runs.

Two years prior Narcissa was sniffling and sneezing her brains out, but didn’t want to wake Madam Pomfrey for medicine. Andromeda insisted we could take care of her ourselves, she just needed a good, hot cup of tea to clear her system. I never knew where she learned it, but she showed me a way to slip into the kitchens undetected. She then showed me which cabinet to find the herbs in, and also which herbs were the right ones. And then she showed me how to use the kettle.

It was amazing how much better Narcissa was able to sleep after she finished her cup of tea, and the next day she was right as rain. I quickly became obsessed with the simple magic behind a “good cup of tea” and asked Andromeda to tell me everything she knew about the different recipes and ingredients. When her knowledge proved to be rather limited I went on a rampage in the library until I was satisfied─ a good two weeks later.

My plan was a simple blend to help me sleep and settle my nerves. Chamomile and cinnamon was sounding particularly tasty, although I was considering whether I might like lavender with rosemary more. Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice at first there was already someone else in the kitchens. Thankfully when I did I only jumped a little.

Confused, I stared at Sirius Black as he took a kettle off one of the stoves. He gave me an amused look in return.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” He guessed.

“No, I’m quite afraid not.”

He gave me a sad smile in understanding. “Have a seat, I’ll make you a cup,” he offered. I can’t say why I listened, but I did. Maybe in a moment of weakness before a highly stressful event I didn’t care that I didn’t know him much, I just wanted to let someone take care of me.

“Any preference on what kind?” He asks.

“Hmm, I was debating between chamomile with cinnamon or lavender with rosemary,” I say. Then, because I can’t help myself, I proceed to list off my many thoughts on the benefits of each ingredient and what might best suit my current situation.

Lost in my thoughts, I don’t notice that Sirius has made a decision for me and already started steeping the herbs in the water. I’ve somehow veered off onto what might make a good combination if Sirius was having a headache, or if his headache was caused by a cold and he had other symptoms what could help with that.

To his credit, he never once interrupts or even looks bored. In fact the entire time he seems to regard me with mild amusement, and I begin to get the impression that everything he encounters in life amuses him.

I don’t even stop rambling about tea when he sets my cup in front of me. After taking a sip, I start to tell him how very fond I am of lemon balm, then pause when I finally realize the cup of tea is already made.

For the first time since Sirius asked what kind of tea I wanted, he is finally given a chance to say something. “Are you sure you weren’t meant to be in Ravenclaw?”

I scoff at his suggestion. “Don’t be absurd, Slytherins can be just as studious as Ravenclaws, we just typically hold our cards a little closer to our chest.”

“Right.” He nods. “This was you holding your cards close to your chest?” He then questions.

“Well it’s not like there’s any great secret behind tea. And besides, even if I haven’t been able to sleep I am quite tired.” A yawn escapes me just then to prove my point. “Narcissa always complains about my tendency to ramble when I’m tired.”

“Why would she complain? I found it rather entertaining,” he says, lightheartedly. Even though his tone has a hint of joking to it, I feel like he’s being honest.

I give him a small smile before taking another sip from my cup. It’s still quite hot, but the flavors are still strong. “Mmm, this is quite delicious,” I compliment. “Is it chamomile with… rosemary?”

Sirius gives me a proud grin. “Ten points to Slytherin,” he jokes. A smile falls on my face.

“What have you made for yourself?” I ask, glancing at his cup.

“Vanilla and rose.”

“That sounds lovely. I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of that before.”

“James’s mum makes it for us all the time. Do you want to try a sip?” He offers. I nod quickly and he passes over his cup. Sure enough it’s a delightful mixture. I tell him such and he tells me the measurements so that I can make it for myself.

“So what’s keeping you up on this otherwise peaceful night?” Sirius asks.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I groan. He looks at me dumbly, confused as to what the obvious answer might be. “We start our OWLs tomorrow,” I scoff.

“Merlin, you can’t really be this stressed about it.” He sounds disbelieving, though I’m not sure why.

“I can and I am,” I say, matter-of-factly. He rolls his eyes and turns to begin putting away the tea kettle. “Why are you up, if not because of the OWLs?” I then ask.

“Not for any good reason. Have always had trouble sleeping,” he says, but the tightness in his voice, and the way he tugs at a lock of hair behind his ear tells me there’s something else he doesn’t want to share. I can’t fault him for that, though. “Which of your OWLs do you feel most prepared for?” He asks after a moment of tense silence.

It throws me off for just a second. Most people want to know which test I’m most nervous for, want to know what area I’m weakest in, where the chip in my armor is so that they might strike there. I consider for a moment, not wanting to say something that I end up bombing. Eventually, I decide on my favorite subject. Sirius seems to accept that answer without pushing any further, so I turn it on him.

“Defense Against the Dark Arts,” he answers almost immediately. “I want to be an auror,” he brags.

I roll my eyes at the proud smirk on his face. “Of course you do.”

“Well? What do you want to be?” Sirius asks as if expecting a lame answer such as archivist.

“My parents want me to be an alchemist,” I reply in what I would guess is a lame answer.

“That’s great for them, what do you want to be, though?” Looking into his eyes at that moment feels as if he’s staring into my soul.

“I… I don’t know,” I mumble slowly and my brows furrow. I can’t help but look at my cup of tea, half empty at this point. No one had ever asked me what I wanted before, not when it came to something so major. It was always assumed I would follow the path my parents laid for me.

When I find the courage to look back up to Sirius he has a sympathetic look on his face.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I snap.

In return, Sirius’s face pinches in anger. “I wasn’t looking at you any type of way,” he defends.

“Yes, you were, you had this look on your face like you were sad for me,” I accuse. “Don’t be sad for me.”

“I’m not sad for you─”

“Good, because you have no reason to be. My life is great and everything is perfectly fine.” The way I say it even Sirius can tell that I’m trying to convince myself more than him at this point. I let out a frustrated sigh. I want to say something about how I’m a great witch and I’m meant to be an alchemist, but another voice in my head whispers to explain how I really feel.

“Look,” I start, then trail off.

“It’s complicated,” he finishes for me. “I get it. I’m sure you know about my family, you know I get it.” His voice is so soft as he talks to me, as if I’m a frightened animal. But despite my flaws I am still a Slytherin, and I do not appreciate being treated like a frightened animal.

“Leave it to a Gryffindor to be so self-absorbed they assume everyone knows their tragic tale of woe. Maybe instead of staying up late to make tea and trying to relate to girls you hardly know you should work on your form for your smokescreen spell.” The words spill out of me before I even consider them. I don’t even take the time to be shocked at my outburst. Instead I storm off.

“Yeah, you’re one to talk about self-absorbed, Princess!” He shouts at my back. I nearly flinch at the nickname, but keep going out of the kitchens and straight back up to my dorm.

─

The morning before the first day of our OWLs testing I follow my same routine. I wake up early to run with James, and he tries to ask if I’m feeling alright, but I brush him off and neither of us acknowledges the way I push myself harder on this run than I ever had before.

After our run, I go back up to my dorm to shower and get ready for the day. My dorm mates still haven’t caught on yet that I’ve started getting up hours earlier. They do ask if I’m feeling flush and press their hands to my forehead, though. I shove them off with a grumbled, “I’m fine,” and shove my things for the day into my bag.

In the Great Hall I can hardly stomach a plain slice of toast, but I just manage to get it down with some orange juice. I feel a bit queasy, but today is too important to pay that feeling any mind.

On my way to the first test of the day, I think back to Remus’s reassuring words from our study session the night before.

“Look, I know trying to reassure you that you’ll do great won’t get through to you, even if I have never been more sure of anything in my life,” Remus says softly, almost hesitantly. “Instead I hope you know that it will be okay if you aren’t perfect.” My heart hits my stomach and I drop my quill. I start to shut down, prepare to lash out. Why would he say that? He thinks I won’t be perfect?

“Maybe other people will have different opinions, but I will still be your friend and I know that everything will turn out okay for you.”

Oh. My heart flutters back to life. We’re friends?

For once in my life, I do not lash out at someone for trying to get closer to me, for saying something honest that I wasn’t ready to hear.

I give him a sad smile. “Thanks, Remus.” I pause for a long moment. “I’m glad you’re my friend,” I whisper. Then, because I’m not sure how to proceed after that, I stiffly turn back to my notes. Remus, ever the gentleman, goes back to his book and doesn’t push me any further.

I don’t think anyone had ever told me before that it was okay to be anything less than perfect, but his words become my mantra for the day.

“It will be okay if I’m not perfect,” I think to myself as I walk into the classroom.

I take a seat next to Narcissa. It will be okay if I’m not perfect.

The professor instructs us to start. It will be okay if I’m not perfect.

I read over every question three times. It will be okay if I’m not perfect.

I double check each of my answers. It will be okay if I’m not perfect.

I finish the last question. It will be okay if I’m not perfect.

I walk up to the front of the class and turn in my test. It will be okay if I’m not perfect.

As I leave the classroom I’ve almost convinced myself that it will be okay if I’m not perfect.

My stomach begins to churn and I walk straight to the nearest bathroom, into one of the stalls, and promptly begin to lose my breakfast. I hear the door open behind me when I’ve stopped heaving.

“Think you’ve found yourself in the wrong bathroom, Princess,” someone says mockingly. Footsteps come closer to me. “Oh shit, are you okay?”

I hadn’t bothered to lock the stall door behind me, so I’m able to turn and see Sirius Black. Again. I give him a horrified look.

“What the bloody hell are you doing in the girls’ room?” I nearly shout at him.

“Actually you’re the one who’s walked into the boys’ room,” he informs me. I give him a disbelieving look until he shifts and my gaze falls on a line of urinals behind him. My face blushes profusely and I stare at Sirius, mortified. He gives me a pitying look. “It’s okay, pretty girl, you’re clearly not feeling well. Stay there for a moment.”

Still in shock, I stay put. I hear the sink running for a moment, then Sirius comes back with a damp towel. He hands it to me to wipe my face.

“Thanks,” I murmur.

“Don’t sweat it,” he replies. With a tender hand, he helps me to my feet when I’m ready. “Let’s get you to Madam Pomfrey, then.”

“Oh, no, that’s really not necessary. It must’ve just been something I had at breakfast,” I lie.

Sirius gives me a disbelieving look. “You’ve clearly worried yourself sick and we both know it.”

I don’t reply as I follow him out of the bathroom. My plan was to start going in the direction of the hospital wing, then double back to the library to keep studying. Sirius’s plan was to follow me.

“I’m more than capable of walking myself to the hospital wing,” I say tersely.

“And I’m more than capable of walking with you. I’m glad we’ve determined our abilities for this excursion.”

I shoot him a glare that would scare off most other people. Sirius doesn’t even blink at me. My new plan: ignore Sirius as he insists on walking me to see Pomfrey.

“How did you feel about it?” He asked after a moment.

I don’t respond.

“I personally thought some of the questions were a bit repetitive, like I had to explain myself multiple times.”

I stay strong.

“But maybe that’s a bad sign that I didn’t do as good as I thought.”

Just keep staring straight ahead, he has to shut up eventually, I think to myself.

“On the second question─”

“Would you just shut up already?” I snapped. I was stressed enough over how I did without reliving it with someone I didn’t even like.

Sirius holds his hands up defensively. “Someone’s cranky,” he says with a laugh.

“I am not cranky, I just don’t particularly care to discuss the test with you.” My eyes roll of their own volition.

“What should you care to discuss then?” He asks.

“With you? Not much.” Maybe if I can discourage him enough he’ll grow bored and wander off.

“It’s a bit of a trek to the hospital wing from here, though, and I’ve found conversation to be a great way to pass time.” Of course, I should know that Gryffindors are not so easily discouraged.

“I’ve found that there’s no reason for you to walk all the way to the hospital wing with me.”

“Wow, are you like this all the time?” He finally snaps back.

“Like what?” I pretend to be ignorant.

He scoffs at me. “Rude, Princess. Are you always so rude?”

I flare up at the nickname. The way he says it, it feels like he knows I don’t like it.

“Nobody asked you to pester me,” I say.

“Most people would consider this an act of kindness, not pestering.”

“How unfortunate for you that I am not like most people.”

“It would do you a bit of good to learn something from them, maybe you could start with some manners.”

“I’m perfectly well mannered, thank you very much. You’re the one who didn’t listen when I told you I was fine to walk by myself, and you’re the one working yourself up by staying with me when you could bug off to literally anywhere else.” With that I begin to speed up to leave him behind.

Sirius actually stops for just a moment, as if really considering my words. Then he rushes to catch up to me. “No, I want to know what’s so bloody great about you,” he says.

I give him a strange look. “I never claimed for anything to be so great about me.”

“Maybe not but you sure act like it, so tell me: what is so bloody great about you? What makes you so special that you think yourself better than everyone else here?”

It’s my turn to stop in my tracks. “Who the hell said I think I’m better than everyone?”

“No one has to say it, Princess.” The way he says Princess feels like venom on his tongue.

I want to hit him. Punch him in the face and give him a great bloody nose. I want to hex him. Maybe knock him off his feet. I want to scream at him. Scream that I don’t think myself better than everyone, that I’m just an imposter pretending to be perfect all the time.

It will be okay if I’m not perfect.

Tears start to well in my eyes. I haven’t cried since I was eleven and my family was getting ready to drop me off at Hogwarts for the first time.

“Do not cry, darling, it’s unbecoming,” my mother says to me. “Soon you will be sorted into Slytherin and prepare to continue your family’s legacy. You must show strength at all times, even if you do not feel it. We can not be perceived as weak.”

A single tear snakes out of the corner of my eye and down the apple of my cheek. I look down and it falls to the ground by my feet. Another tear falls, and before I know it I am fully crying. I start to struggle to breathe.

When I look back up to Sirius he looks terrified. He must think he’s what’s made me cry. The truth is it’s the last five years that have built up to weigh on me continually. It’s the way my life was gilded and no one had ever cared to look below the surface until a few weeks ago when Remus Lupin offered to help me study. Until James Potter offered to go for a run. Until Sirius Black offered me a cup of tea.

My quiet tears begin to turn into choked sobbing as I realize how sad my life really was, that these three Gryffindors had shown me a kind of genuine caring that I hadn’t known could exist.

Hesitantly, Sirius takes my hand to lead me over to a nearby bench so I can sit down and try to collect myself. It takes several minutes for me to control my breathing, and several more for my tears to subside. I finally look down to notice that I’m still holding Sirius’s hand, that I’d actually been holding it quite firmly.

“Oh, Merlin, I’m so sorry,” I say, my voice hoarse, as I release his hand from my grasp. “You were right. Everything is so very complicated.”

Sirius gives me that same look he did last night, and I realize. He wasn’t sad for me, he understood me. But how was it fair that he would get to leave, when his brother and I were left behind with our authoritarian families? Selfishly, I think maybe he could show me the way.

I sit there, lost in my thoughts, for a long while. Sirius stays with me. Eventually the bells toll to indicate it was time for lunch. When I glance up at Sirius, he’s already looking at me.

“Can I make you an offer?” He asks.

I grow weary at his words. “I would suppose that depends on what the offer is.”

“Well, your eyes are red and swollen and you’ve got mascara tracked down your cheeks,” he starts and I grow horrified as I realize what I must look like. There was no way I could go into the Great Hall looking like the mess I surely am. He lets out a small laugh at my expression. “Why don’t you go clean up, and I’ll grab us some lunch from the Great Hall. We can meet in the south courtyard.”

I was amazed that even after I’d been so mean to him, he would still be so kind to me.

“That would be quite nice actually. Thank you,” I reply softly.

Sirius gives me a swift nod, then helps me to stand up. We go our separate ways, me to my dorm to wash my face and apply some fresh mascara and concealer, and Sirius to the Great Hall.

─

I’ve just sat down in a corner of the courtyard for a couple minutes when Sirius shows up. I try not to look too shocked when James and Remus appear with him. Of course, I knew they were all friends, they went galavanting around the entire school proclaiming themselves marauders, but I’d never interacted with all three of them together.

It suddenly occurs to me that they likely share a dorm, and very well could have planned this all to be some grand prank on me. But they had all seemed so genuinely kind to me until this point, and I was so tired of constantly second guessing everyone’s intentions. I decided that if this were some prank I would let them have their fun at me, then show them the real wrath of Slytherin.

The three of them quickly set up a small picnic and begin lighthearted conversation. James compliments the way my hair looks today. Sirius teases James for the way his hair looks everyday, although I would argue it flatters him I don’t say that aloud. Remus gives me a knowing look as the two begin bickering.

Spending time with the three of them is easy, and feels right. Like it was always meant to be the four of us all together. None of them mentions my earlier breakdown, or even anything to do with our tests. I wonder what Sirius told them before they all came out here. Whatever it was, none of them shows me any judgment so I can guess he must have skipped over my rude behavior.

I’m sad when the bells ring again to signify the end of lunch. We clean up our area of the courtyard, then head back inside. Over the course of my time with the boys I feel my spirits lifted significantly, feeling much better and ready to face the next two weeks of tests.

It will be okay if I’m not perfect, I think to myself again, and this time I really do believe it. Because even if I’m only just getting to know Remus, James, and Sirius, I know that they are my friends and they’ll be there for me.

#poly!marauders x slytherin!reader #poly!marauders x reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #poly!marauders #marauders era #slytherin!reader #slytherin #remus lupin x sirius black #remus lupin x james potter #james potter x sirius black #harry potter fandom

594 notes · View notes

placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 1 year ago

Text

Reign down on me - Part 8

Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)

No use of y/n or mention of gender/race

Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, violent scenes

A/N: So this is kind of a Part 1 of a whole chapter because i wanted to give you guys something. So the next chapter will have a bit more going on, hope you enjoy this for now! Excited for any comments or theories you guys have about what's going to happen 💕

-🐺-

The major opened the door slowly and then gently closed it shut behind him, sparing a quick glance at you before he walked over to Price’s desk with only a few long strides. He was a tall man with gleaming shoes and a pristine uniform to match, his red hair combed back neatly on top of his head. You took in everything, your breathing almost slowed to a stop while you waited for the news. Only when he sat down at the uncomfortable wooden chair in front of Price did he speak.

“Before I start, I want to say that I know you’re a busy man and that your team are integral to many ongoing operations that are running. However,” the major paused, his accent thickly weaving his words. “After the incident outside your hallway with Second Lieutenant Smith, I’m afraid to say that I must ask you to carve out some time for me.”

Price laughed at that. Not a warm chuckle or a dark little rumble, like you were used to hearing over comms or during training. This was one of disbelief, the little glinting breaths coming through like warning shots.

“I’d hardly call that an incident, Major. A silly boy decided to test my hybrid and got exactly what he deserved. There ain’t much more to it,” Price grunted.

He straightened his back and leaned over his table, appearing every bit as menacing as you imagined he could be. The way his eyes appeared to darken below his tilted heavy brow were enough to send even you gulping - and you were the one he was defending. The Major didn’t seem to react however, he wasn’t cowed by the show, he merely sniffed and set his own arms on the desk.

“Ordinarily I’d agree with ye, Price, you know I would. That wasn’t just any boy though, his da’s some parliamentary arsehole and he wants atonement.”

That gave Price pause.

You sucked in a breath and dug your fingers into the couch cushions, feeling the fabric strain and almost give way under your claws. The shaking started seconds later. You were going to be punished after all.

Who would do the whipping, you wondered, I don’t want it to be any of the boys, definitely not Ghost. A small whine escaped your throat at the thought of that before you could cram it down. Ghost was supposed to be safe. The idea that he’d be the one looming over you and raining down pain on your back left your throat feeling crushingly tight.

“You’re not laying a finger on my wolf, do you hear me?” Price said, his voice so low he might as well have growled at the Major.

His. The way he said it was so possessive compared to the way you normally heard that, the way that Ghost usually said it. Ghost’s good Pup. His sweet thing. Price said that you were his with all the ferocity of a wild animal. Like something was threatening to drag you off into the unknown.

“Look I’m not gonna bullshit you here. I tried insisting on something like committed service hours, guard duty or sniffing - that sort of thing. He wasn’t going for it. The problem isn’t so much with what the hybrid did - it’s your Lieutenant he wants to prove a point to most of all. He wants Ghost to know he can’t get away with insulting his family.”

“So what? He wants Ghost punished?” Price snorted, tilting his chin up in challenge. “You gonna string him up to the post and all are ya?”

The major sighed deeply and rubbed his brow.

“No ones getting strung up, don’t jump to conclusions. He said that he wants the hybrid locked down for a week, they’re to be placed with the Smith boy’s squad and kenneled, only to be removed should a mission arise where the hybrid’s presence is essential…now, before you go thinking that you can conjure up some kind of week long escapade, he explicitly stated the sentence is to pause while away and resume on return.”

I’d rather be whipped bloody, you thought. The exact thing you were afraid of was coming to fruition. You were to be stripped of what you’d come to love and return to your old way of life, worse still was the thought that you didn’t even know what the kennels were like in your new base, didn’t know if they could extend your stay which would often happen at Branhaven. There was every chance you could be stuck with that horrible bastard indefinitely. Ghost had made a point of letting you know that he never intended on punishing you like that, that you wouldn’t while away your hours in a dingy cell block, or be made to face a post ever again.

The memory of him settling his hand on your shoulder and squeezing ever so gently as he explained his approach to discipline was so strong, you almost felt his spirit lingering there beside you. He’d said he wouldn’t ever put you out in the cold or whip you unless his hand was forced, and even then he insisted he’d fight whoever threatened you.

Would he fight a major? A politician?

“This is bullshit,” Price scoffed, smacking his hand off his desk and making you jump. “Hobbling my team because his little brat got slapped around is pathetic! What next? Would he like to bend Ghost over while he’s at it? Really, Major, this is a farce.”

“It is, aye. Exactly what happens when you tangle with those sorts, you know that as well as anyone though.”

Price’s face was the dictionary definition of scorn. You shrank back into the sofa, subconsciously trying to become a part of it and escape from all the tension. The major didn’t even wince through it. He faced Price with all the stoicism of a tree on a calm day, but Price continued to rant and plead your case until you thought his red face might start to turn purple. All the while you listened with quick little bursts of scared breath.

The conversation didn’t go anywhere except against a dead end, ramming over and over into the same conclusion. The major grew tired of Price’s fit and walked out, saying that he’d expect you checked into the kennel’s by the end of the night. He let the threat of what would happen, should he fail to comply, linger somewhere above you - like an anvil - in the air.

Price growled out a profanity as the door slammed closed. Only when the air had settled and the Major’s presence fully left did he turn to you and soften. His eyes, that had held so much venom, melted from slits and into doleful pools, his taught mouth slackened.

“Pup…” He sighed, looking you over.

He didn’t finish the sentiment. There was a wordless understanding between you both that he didn’t have the vocabulary for the sympathies he wanted to convey. With that quiet look of apology given he sighed out and pressed his head into his palms.

“Fuckin’ shower of cunts the lot of em.”

Price hadn’t immediately given up of course. He picked up his phone and got to talking to numerous sources, but apparently none of them were of any use. You flinched back from where you were perched every time he hung up his phone with a bang. It almost made you feel sorry for the thing. No matter what arguments were made, no one was willing to hear Price out. That much was clear after he’d clattered down into his old chair like a shot bird.

You had expected as much.

In the end it was you that convinced Price just to take you to the kennels. Making a point of stressing that it would be far better to go before Ghost could come back. Something within you shook at the idea of being put back into the same horrible place by the same man that had rescued you from there to begin with. At having Ghost have to take the responsibility on his shoulders, once more letting down a hybrid in his care.

After being checked in and issued a bedroll, it was time to say your good nights. You stared at Price through the doorway of the kennel, biting your frayed lip. No matter what he said, you knew well enough that it was your own stupid stubborn fault that you were back there again - for not just acquiescing to the brat’s commands in the first place. Stunts like that were the exact reason that you had the disciplinary record that you did. Always going against anyone that wanted to shove you down, all in the name of some kind of renegade fantasy that you had any control over your life. Fiercely defending the shreds of your honour as if you hadn’t spent most of your life as a beaten dog.

Stupid.

At the very least though, conditions were far better than your old haunt at Branhaven. That was something, you tried to tell yourself. The shiny black sleeping bag they’d given you was plenty thick and there was a groaning old heater that rattled overhead, so that the nipping cold temperatures felt more like being left in a draughty room. Even the construction wasn’t as bad as the other ones, rubber crumb flooring like that of a playground, meant that you wouldn’t get as stiff and a hard fibreglass front over the concrete walls meant that you wouldn’t be exposed to the elements. It was almost possible to think of it like a stay at the worlds worst hotel, rather than a mandated stay in the kennels.

It wasn’t home, but at least you knew that you’d get to return there as long as you listened and kept your stupid trap shut for once. Home with Ghost. Now that you’d calmed down after the initial shock of being issued the punishment, an internal clock had materialised in your head. The countdown to when you could go home. All you had to do was take your medicine and you could be with Ghost again, everything could go back to how it was. That thought alone was enough to keep the needling panic at the back of your mind firmly restrained there.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” Price said, his voice stony and rough. “I don’t wanna leave you here, Pup…I really don’t.”

“Don’t wanna leave me, or don’t wanna have to face Ghost and tell him I’m here?” You said, making an attempt to lift his heavy expression.

He grunted something that could be interpreted as a bitter chuckle.

“Neither.”

You smiled a little, but didn’t have it in you to laugh. At seeing your expression, he crossed the threshold between you both and closed his palm over your head. His roughened fingers skimmed over your ears and softly rubbed some of the worry out from deep within your tissue. A proper moment of reprieve settled over your body, loosening tight muscles, before you were forced to part again by the approaching footsteps of the guard.

“Sorry, Sir. I have to lock all the kennels up for the night for lights out,” he explained sheepishly, eyes not fully able to reach Price’s gaze.

Price nodded at him and went to comply, though only after giving you one last ruffle over the ears. He stepped back after and allowed the fibre glass door to snick to a close. Your heart thumped extra loudly while it shut. Price gave you one last mournful look and then told you to get some rest, assuring you that he’d be watching over you even from afar.

“Good night, Price,” you whispered back, watching his retreating back with sorrow filled eyes.

The guard grunted and double checked the door, ensuring it was locked and rattling the mechanism a few times before he was satisfied. The soft click of metal on metal forced your ears to twitch upward into alert.

“Get into your bedroll. Light’s out,” the guard said, his voice hardened now that your Captain was gone. “If you cause trouble or give me any crap you’ll be removed for discipline and then returned here. Do you understand?”

“Understood, Sir,” you nodded, unfurling the sleeping bag with a shiver.

The guard allowed you to sort your bedding and once inside the puffy roll of fabric he flicked the light switch and left you bathed in the darkness. He continued down the line from there, the only evidence of his presence, the fading lights down the line and the clicking of switches and doors.

You whined softly while rubbing your face against the cold fabric below, blanching at the cold rubber flooring. Your heart lurched at the thought of your bed back home. The thought of your cushy blue pillows, Simon’s soft fur, the dialogue unread from the ‘Super-Wolf’ graphic novels by your bed, the smell of rotisserie chicken that was supposed to linger in the air, no where to be found in that sterile place. This was all wrong.

No matter what position you got in, no matter how hard you tried to shut your mind off and return to old coping mechanisms, the idea that you could be safely in your bed weighed on your chest like an elephant. Before you were used to being shoved into a kennel and forgotten about, but now you knew that there was a better life. A life that had been ripped from you.

You wanted to scream, wanted to claw your way out of the sleeping bag and slam yourself against the clear glass like a mad person, wanted to raise hell until you were returned to your rightful place. Though you never followed through. You had to be good now. It was the only thing that would get you home.

Instead, you let your head loll to the back wall, facing the speckled brick and let loose the tears that you hadn’t wanted Price to have to witness again. Couldn’t have him thinking that you were completely pathetic afterall. The hot paths they left burned against your cold cheeks, though they still couldn’t compete with the heat that filled your aching chest.

I’ll be with them again. Ghost won’t let me go.

-🐺-

“Mum…I had a nightmare. The monsters want to take me away.”

Your little tail was pinned fast under your legs, your ears folded so close to your head you could feel the fibres of your hair even through your fur. Blinking back the tears from your eyes, you swallowed and looked up at her imploringly, hoping for a big cuddle just like the ones you’d seen her give to your older sister.

If she knew the meaning in your look, she didn’t show it. She groaned and got up from the couch, mumbling something under her breath before grabbing your wrist and shepherding you back to bed. The long dark corridors of your house seemed all the more haunting at night, the sounds of all the appliances ringing through the walls like wails. You shivered all the way back to your tiny room. Your mum’s iron grip may as well have been a shackle tugging you to prison.

“Right, get back to sleep. You won’t have another nightmare after you’ve just had one.”

She turned the light on while you sorted yourself, impatiently hovering by the switch until you were lying back in bed and clinging the stuffed dog that your sister hadn’t wanted - had so graciously thrown at you one day - to your chest. His name was faint to you now, a shadow in your anxiety addled mind, what did you call him again?

“Sleep tight,” she sighed, turning the light out and spiriting out the door.

You blinked out through the darkness and sighed, curling into a little ball and trying your best to retreat from the leering shadows in the corner of the room. In that darkness your mind created faces, grinning horrible faces that wanted to gobble you up and turn you into mince. Just like the monsters from that horrible movie your dad had watched the night before, completely unaware that you had been hiding under the dining table, trying to avoid your mothers wrath for the milk that you’d spilled before bed.

“Monsters can’t get you here, sweetie,” you whispered to yourself, remembering the calming words you’d overheard in your sister’s room a few nights prior. “Nothing will get you when you’re safely tucked up…snug as a bug in a rug. You have your teddy to protect you, he’ll watch over you all night! Then in the morning everything will be fine again and the sun will be shining.”

The words didn’t seem to hold the same weight when you said them to yourself. They just rang hollow in the static. Perhaps they didn’t work the same since you were different, a half-breed ‘thing’ that no one asked for. Were you worth protecting? Would the sun shine for you in the morning?

-🐺-

“Hey, Pup. Oi. It’s ok, you’re alright. Easy…Easy”

You gulped in a hungry breath of air and opened your eyes, chest absolutely heaving as you fought off the last of the evil spirits that cackled and snapped at your extremities. In all your confusion between sleeping and waking, you couldn’t be sure if the arms that were wrapped around you were real, and if they were, you couldn’t be sure that they were friendly.

When you whipped round and saw Gaz staring down at you with wide concerned eyes, you still questioned to yourself if you were in another layer of a dream. This couldn’t be right, you thought drowsily.

“Gaz?” you mumbled, tilting your head when he smiled at you. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving you from the bogeyman apparently,” he smirked, ruffling your ears until you swatted his hands away. “That looked like a fuckin’ mental dream, mate.”

“No, Really - what are you doing here?”

You looked around, noting the wide open kennel door and the hazy blue sky beyond, a soft gradient of navy and electric blue sheeted over the fences and trees beyond. It couldn’t be any later than three, maybe four at a stretch. Your sleeping bag was tangled round your ankles and the heater had turned off, but other than that nothing had changed in the kennel.

All was quiet on base, no cars whizzed by, barely any noise sounded through the crisp morning air. Sleep soon scratched at your eyes, forcing you to rub them and then embarrassingly let loose a high pitched whining yawn that had your face heating like a furnace in embarrassment.

“Aw, you are just a cute Pup, aren’t you?”

“Gaz!” you growled, trying to fix him with a stare serious enough that he would answer.

It was no use though. He wasn’t Soap, so a little mean look did nothing to wipe the stupid smile of his smug face. Though he did relent when you growled, and when he noticed your darting looks round the opened gate, probably seeing that you were searching for the guard. At that point you’d suspected Gaz had to have stuffed him in a locker or something.

“Relax, you can stop clutching your pearls. Price has a mission for us.”

“What?” you frowned, thoroughly doubtful, “Really? Right after I got kenneled, huh?”

“Genuinely,” He snorted, shaking his head. “I didn’t believe him at first either, but he wasn’t in the mood to piss about and explain himself. Cap said to come get you and load up ASAP, he’ll explain when we’re in the air.”

“We’re flying out?”

“Uh huh. Sooner the better too, can’t believe they made you spend a night in this place. What a fuckin’ joke.”

“Doesn’t feel like a joke to my back,” you ground out, wincing mid stretch when you felt a bone crack and heard the resulting sound.

“Jesus. You keep making noises like that and they might retire you,” Gaz snorted.

“Ha ha,” you said dryly.

He gave you room to move away from him, allowing you to stand up before looking you over. It was almost comical seeing the way he searched you for any signs of harm, his calculating eyes narrowed as if he were looking for weapons. He paused a moment, only unfreezing when you raised your brows at him and quirked your lips.

“You solid?” he asked.

“I think so. You?”

“It’s three in the morning and I’m freezing my arse out here instead of being passed out in bed - course I’m not,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes and bumped into his side, happily strolling out of the kennel and out into freedom. One night down you, you thought, only six more to go until I get to go back to my bed. At the very least you were happy you wouldn’t have to go to that prick, Smith’s, unit for the day. More than having to be separated from Ghost, you feared what he would do to you while in his care. You strongly suspected he’d have more than a slap lined up for you at that point.

Gaz lead you to the changing rooms before taking you to the chinook, handing you your gear and waiting on the squeaky wooden benches outside the shower block while you got ready. Then after taking the world’s quickest and coldest shower, trying miserably not to get your hair or fur wet, you stepped out to greet him with gritted teeth and soggy ears. If one thing was abundantly clear then, it was the fact that Ghost had utterly spoiled you. There was no way you could face a cold shower again without thinking about the bathroom at his.

“When I get to go back to Ghost I’m gonna live in that shower,” you huffed, teeth chattering while wrapping yourself up in the big cosy fleece that Ghost had given you a few days before. “I’m gonna stay in there until I turn into a prune and then I’ll make sure that Ghost cans me and traps all the warm condensation in.”

Gaz laughed while watching you lace `up your boots last. Your fingers were shaking still from the bone chilling cold that had seeped through your entire body. It was a wonder that you thankfully managed to finish changing without any help. As much as you had considered pathetically asking him to tie them for you, you werent sure if you could go on soldiering knowing that Gaz had to help you like you were some kind of baby.

“Pup in a can sounds like a pretty good product. New kind of IED discovered, we can just start lobbing you at the enemy instead of wasting grenades.”

“Lobbing me?” You said in faux shock, flattening your drippy ears. “I can’t believe you would even suggest that.”

“What? It’s a pretty solid strategy, would work wonders if we were facing an army of Mactavishes.”

“Gaz!” You squawked, flinging your dirty shirt at him. “Mean!”

He batted it away easily and laughed with you.

“Oh c’mon. Soap would laugh if he was here.”

“Pfft, Soap here? coming to the kennels? Fat chance.”

“Aw, I’m sure he’d do it for you. His little furball,” Gaz teased, ruffling your ears. “Our fuzzy wuzzy puppy.”

You huffed and shooed his hands away, growling when he went to mess with you again. Gaz didn’t flinch at that, but he did roll his eyes and move back to lean against the wall. He was graciously allowing you to put away the rest of your gear in peace so that you could move out. He grew quiet while you shoved your things into the soft green rucksack, and just as you’d clicked the clasp on your bag closed, he regarded you with a more considering look.

“What?”

“What?” Gaz returned, folding his arms.

You frowned.

“You’re looking at me funny.”

“Maybe it’s cause you’re funny,” he shrugged.

“Shame that you’re not,” you replied dryly.

“Well shit. Mess with the wolf and you get the fangs, huh?”

“You know it, Garrick.”

-🐺-

The chinook was more comfortable than the kennel. That you figured out after your belly was filled with a fat bacon roll and you had Gaz’s shoulder to lean on. Your eyelids dripped like syrup, lashes fluttering as you listened to Price drone on about the mission over the shaky comms.

“Pup, are you listening? Knew I shouldn’t have bloody given you breakfast first,” Price admonished.

You slowly blinked back at him.

“I am,” you huffed out, straightening your back against the chair. “We got evidence of WMD’s in Lata, so we’re gonna go there and secure em with a team from Los Vaqueros forces.”

“Top marks,” Gaz chuckled, ruffling your ears.

You rolled your eyes.

“These ears ain’t for nothin’,” you said with a sly grin.

“Those ears better stay alert,” Price grumbled. “I need you alive and well so Ghost doesn’t disembowel me on return.”

Your ears perked up at that, your body quickly straightening up all the way. In all your tiredness and confusion at being taken away, you’d hardly thought about how Ghost would’ve felt about you being seperated from him for the first time.

“You spoke to him last night then?”

“Tried to,” Price snorted. “After I told him where you were he just about bowled me over trying to get to you. Managed to convince him to let you be, but he was a pain in my arse all night. He wants to speak to you later, so if you would please be careful today me and my neck would thank you.”

“Is he coming here?” You asked hopefully, tail raising in your excitement.

“Probably not. If all goes well we should be outta here in a few days to a week. He said to call once we finish up tonight though.”

Oh. As much as you tried to stop yourself from visibly deflating, there was little you could do to prevent yourself falling back against the chair with a huff. It had already been to long without him and it had only been a day. The thought of the growing distance only gnawed at you as you thought about it more.

“Relax, Pup. You’ll be back home to Ghost before you know it,” Price hummed. “Just gotta get through this in one piece first.”

“Yeah…but that’ll only be after I finish up my time at the kennels,” you grumbled, fully sagging into Gaz in defeat.

“We’ll see.”

You tilted your head at the Captain wondering what the hell he meant by that, and even though he saw your curious look he didn’t answer it. All he did was wink. Even when you begged him to elaborate he shook his head and tilted down his boonie hat, making it perfectly clear that the time for talking was done.

“You could use more sleep yourself,” Gaz said afterward, watching you in your confusion. “Don’t worry too much about the future right now, you barely got any sleep last night by the sounds of that dream you were having, so you’re not gonna be able to think straight. Rest your head on me and I’ll try and keep the nightmares at bay, ok? Gotta wake up fresh for the mission.”

You pursed your lips, heart beating like a frail bird in your chest. So many questions danced around you, but every thought was dimmed by the tiring heaviness that had refused to shake itself from your body from the moment you’d woken up.

Gaz was right, you did need more sleep. And curling up on him sounded like a dream. However when you looked up into his soft hazel eyes, a sudden wave of heat pulsed through you and gave you pause. He practically glowed in the emerging morning light.

“You sure you want me cuddling up to you?” you asked, laughing breathily to cover up your nervousness.

“Only as long as you don’t tell Ghost,” he winked. “Wouldn’t want him to get jealous.”

You shoved him playfully at that, but soon settled down once Price barked out for you both to be quiet. Bodies going ridgid before slackening into each other. Your head drooped gently down onto Gaz’s shoulder and he let his cheek rest on top of your head. The warm rays of the morning blanketed you both in its gentle hold and in minutes you were sinking into a now peaceful sleep.

#reign down on me #simon ghost riley #Simon Riley #Ghost #mw2 #ghost x reader #Hybrid!reader

684 notes · View notes

ms-fade · 1 year ago

Text

She’s Mine!

★ Yan! Mina Ashido, Ochaco Uraraka, Momo Yaoyorozu, Kyoka Jiro x Fem!Reader

☪︎ Summary: Dorm life has been amazing with your collage class mates. Summer roles around and you girls take a trip away, to a summer vacation home in the mountains. But your obsessed friends seem to get more touchy and jealous of each other, and you have no idea why.

☪︎ Smut: Minors DNI, 18+, aged up Characters, slow updates, more warnings will be displayed on each post, sharing and poly.

Chapter 1 - Not released

Chapter 2 - Not released

Chapter 3 - Not released

Chapter 4 - Not released

*More chapters to come*

To be added to the Taglist jusycomment or message you’ll be tagged ♡

@solarrexplosion @candyland-xblade @ukiyoeangel @miyomoko-sora

514 notes · View notes

bluecloudsandpinksnow · 3 months ago

Text

the triangle is the strongest shape (akabane karma x reader x asano gakushuu)

summary:

Studying together is a love language.

---

While you turn to Karma with the look of utmost betrayal, Gakushu faces him with frustration, “It was three points, you cretin! Besides, I’d like to see you keep rank one with the amount of extracurriculars I have to balance.”

Karma laughs mischievously as he sticks his tongue out at both of your disgruntled expressions. “Come on now, Rank 2. Let’s help our dearest Rank 4 with their educational struggles.”

“You are appallingly infuriating.”

“Aww, I love you too, Pres~” fandom: Assassination Classroom by Yûsei Matsui pairing: akabane karma x gender-neutral! reader x asano gakushuu warnings: none notes: - cross posted on ao3 under the same name - inspired by that one head-canon post on Tumblr involving these two that kickstarted my downward spiral, pls give this person appreciation (https://www.tumblr.com/jupiter-esque/709152335950200832/hiii-can-i-request-asano-x-reader-x-karma-in-poly?source=share) - also aspects of trephacard (castlevania season 1 esp!!) AND iron widow's trio were quite helpful in building the dynamic. - please enjoy! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

--- START ---

After the hustle and bustle of the previous midterm week had passed, the school’s atmosphere had relaxed far too quickly for your comfort. Going from days of seemingly never-ending examinations to back-to-back class projects had left you on edge and hopped up on a near-illegal amount of caffeine.

Yet, after all that stress-inducing work, you were still antsy to do more. I mean, seriously, how does someone relax back into a schedule of only lessons after that assassination attempt of a school week?

You wouldn’t consider yourself an overachiever or workaholic by any means, but by God-

Seeing Koyama’s expression of absolute despair after you had wiped the floor with him on the biology examination had you beaming with vainglorious pride.

A score of 98 out of 100 to his measly 95.

Serves Mr. Memorization Monster right, you had thought. Whenever Gakushu would bring him around for study sessions, you always argued vehemently with Koyama against his reliance on memorizing the material over understanding the concepts.

Call it petty and childish, but that taste of victory and being objectively correct? Now that’s a drug you could get addicted to.

With Koyama down for the count, you have three people remaining on your ‘Kunugigaoka High School Hit List,’ and Ren Sakikibara was next in line to be absolutely obliterated by your spite-fueled rank climbing.

Ren has been a notably difficult target, but Korosensei never taught you to be a quitter. You had spent a good chunk of the last few years fantasizing about the flowery prose you would use in your future victory speech against the Japanese Virtuoso himself.

Now, all you needed was the scores to prove your dominance.

Hence your current situation: sprawled on a couch in Gakushu’s room, offhandedly reading through the annotated notes of the current lesson in your Japanese Folk Literature class. The sounds of quick typing served as your background noise as you reviewed your initial literary analysis.

You had mostly skimmed the sections you highlighted, having gone over them with Kanzaki earlier in the week. However, a rather confusing passage stopped you in your tracks; you had spent the better part of the past hour re-reading it in an attempt to understand the excerpt.

To no avail, you can’t seem to wrap your head around it despite all your best efforts. Disappointedly, you knew that it was time for you to swallow your pride and ask your two other targets for assistance.

Luckily, the two in question are currently in the same room as you. Quite convenient.

You lower your readings onto your lap and look around at your surprisingly tranquil surroundings.

Sitting at your front was Karma, who was on the floor beside you, plotting out motion time graphs for his Physics elective. He was rather focused, drawing out the lines for the acceleration-time section, so you decided to leave him be.

If you caused Karma to draw a jagged line across his worksheet, he would need to reprint it and draw all the graphs again. Knowing him, he might just end up poking you with the uncapped permanent marker in his hand as revenge.

You decide to bother Gakushu, who is sitting on the couch next to your reclining form. He had his laptop on his lap and had somehow not stopped typing for the past two hours that you three have been studying.

“Gakushu? Are you busy?” you ask softly, craning your neck to look up at him.

He doesn’t give you a verbal response, but you know he heard you as soon as the sounds of typing stop abruptly.

“Can I ask you for the historical context of this author? It might help me understand what he wrote.” you requested, flipping to the front page of your readings and raising them towards Gakushu.

He briefly glances at your paper, and you perk up in joy when he seems to adhere to your request.

“Thank you-” you start, before realizing he had just gone back to revising his Chemistry lab calculations.

Never before had you experienced such blatant disrespect. The audacity of this boy, all because he was a few grade points up on you.

Putting on your best, Irina-sensei-approved, pouty face, you reach forward and tap Gakushu’s knee.

“Aww! Please, it won’t take that long. Just a quick Google search?”

You look up at him with as much unrelenting cuteness as you can muster, but Gakushu doesn’t even give you the benefit of a glare. Not even you bonking your head lightly against his thigh had broken his concentration.

“If you truly need the information immediately, I don’t understand why you won’t just get up and grab your laptop,” he states coldly.

Unbelievable. Not even Karasuma-sensei was this much of a square. What made the electrolyte count of Japanese sports drinks more interesting to him than helping you?

“But Mr. President, your couch is so comfy. Its gravitational force is too strong!” you stretch out your limbs, leaving your arms to fall lax on Gakushu’s forearms.

He stops typing once more, and gives you a sigh, shaking his head. You smile up at him, vocalizing a mischievous “hehe.”

“I can assure you it has nothing of the sort. Why don’t you go bother Akabane instead.” Gakushu responds in exasperation, simply pushing your arms off of his while you cry out in complaint.

Karma, upon hearing his name mentioned, perks up with a ‘hm?’ and puts down his marker. You turn to look at him with faux dejection, noticing that he has almost finished his worksheet. He tilts his head at you in response, a mixture of confusion and amusement on his face.

“Whatcha say to them, Pres? Why do they look so sad?” Karma asks as he gathers up his graphing papers.

“Karma, he was being mean to me~” you whine, only for Gakushu to huff out air in irritation. “See! So cruel, I was just asking for help.”

In response to your silly antics, Karma snorts out a laugh. “Gaku-kun, aren’t you supposed to help out your fellow students in their education? You should be a good example.”

Gakushu groans in annoyance, “Akabane, don’t enable their childish behavior. They are just too lazy to get up and walk three steps to get their device.”

Upon processing his words, you shoot up in offense, moving to a quick sitting position while crossing your arms. You couldn’t understand why he couldn’t give you this short act of service.

“Gakushu! You’re so mean, I just wanted your help with this.” You frown, pouting with a little more anger. Karma’s lips pursed into a thin line as he glanced at Gakushu who had not stopped typing, seemingly unbothered by your distress. However, Karma doesn’t seem to say anything and goes behind the couch to put his graphs into his bag. Figures, he’d leave the growing tension for you two to deal with.

You let out a sigh of disappointment, “You know what, nevermind. I’m sorry for bothering you when you’re clearly busy.”

Swinging your legs off the couch, you awkwardly move back into your earlier reclining position and mentally prepare yourself to re-analyze the difficult Japanese excerpt again. However, right as you lift your readings towards your face, someone grabs the papers from your hand.

You look up in surprise, seeing Gakushu put down his laptop on the coffee table with one hand while he reads your papers in the other. After a brief silence, he speaks your name.

“You’re intelligent enough to analyze this regardless of historical context. I’ve seen you tackle more difficult prose than this one.” Gakushu states, giving you back the papers.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to process your next action. Were you supposed to preen at the praise, or be insulted at his lack of understanding of your intentions?

“Gaku-kun, don’t be so dense. I’m pretty sure they just want us to study together.” Karma finally cuts in, leaning on the couch’s backrest behind you and Gakushu.

You look up at Karma with silent thanks before clearing your throat. “Yeah, that’s what I wanted. Look- I’m really glad that you think so highly of me, but this is genuinely stumping me and I just wanted your guys’ help.”

Gakushu and Karma gaze at you silently, both processing your words with deep thought. You decide to continue and get your piece out, hoping to smooth over the tension you’ve created.

“I value your guys’ opinion, okay? Talking about these things with two of the most intelligent people I know really helps me understand them faster. Besides, we’ve been having non-stop study sessions for the past two weeks. Yet, we’ve barely spent any time together that wasn’t just an individually focused study period.”

You cover your face with your papers, feeling sheepish about your sudden vulnerability. The room is silent, and you start wondering if it’s time to back-pedal and try to avert course.

Once you gather enough courage to look at the two boys, you first see Gakushu give you a troubled, guilty look.

“I apologize for being so indifferent. I- I didn’t mean to disregard your needs.”

Upon meeting your keen, curious stare, Gakushu pauses for a moment and looks away, flustered. He takes a moment to recollect himself before continuing, “You’re usually so self-sufficient, and so I unfairly assumed you were simply just fooling around to get our attention.”

“Well, that last part is kinda true, but I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted your help,” you replied softly, cautiously reaching out for Gakushu’s hand in an attempt to give physical comfort. To your elation, he reaches out to take your hand, keeping yours in a gentle grip while moving to rest your intertwined hands on his lap.

Karma, who for the past few minutes chose to keep quiet while the two of you worked out your feelings, let out a big sigh of relief that he didn’t know he was even holding in.

“Geez, you guys sure know how to make things more dramatic than they need to be.” he voices, wiping away an imaginary sweatdrop in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Hey!” you can’t help but smile as you reach up to playfully swat Karma’s shoulder with your note-holding hand.

The redhead dodges your papers with ease, laughing softly as he continues to tease, “Did you really need to put us through that soap opera just to ask for help? So theatrical of you~”

You let out an impish “hmph!” in response to Karma’s jests, choosing to ask Gakushu for support with a light hand squeeze and your best puppy-dog eyes.

To your chagrin, however, he simply shakes his head with a small grin. “Unfortunately, Akabane is right. That was a rather ostentatious way of asking for our assistance.”

Karma lets out a boisterous laugh as your face turns red. He even has the audacity to reach out and pinch your tomato-colored cheeks as you wallow in your shame.

“Ehh! Why are you two ganging up on me now? Just help me already! How else am I beating Ren and catching up to you two?” you whine light-heartedly, grabbing Karma’s wrist so he stops pinching your cheeks.

“Huh? Is that your motivation? Gee, I didn’t realize that was why you were on a ranking warpath.” he asks, finally moving his hand away from your face and straightening up.

“Ah- Yea, maybe? Ehe,” you utter, still reeling from the mortification of the previous topic.

Gakushu puts a hand to his chin, analyzing your statement. “Hmm, that does make sense. I thought you had just wanted to prove Koyama’s studying method wrong, but if we take into account your history, you’ve actually been slowly outranking the Virtuosos throughout the examinations.”

“You’ve already outranked Koyama? Hah! No wonder he’s been such a sourpuss lately.” Karma exclaims, moving around the couch and grabbing his practice problems from the coffee table.

“Yeah! Didn’t you guys see my name above his on the rankings board?” You question, amused at the thought of completely ruining Koyama’s week with your complete, and utter victory.

“I did,” Gakushu pats your head with his unoccupied hand, “Good work, please keep at it and go humble Ren.”

You preen at his praise, heart pumping and even more motivated to dethrone Ren Sakikibara.

“Ehh, sorry, I didn’t see. All I need to know is that I’m still above Gaku-kun over here.” Karma admits, seemingly completely guiltless about his offense to you both.

Karma laughs mischievously as he sticks his tongue out at both of your disgruntled expressions. “Come on now, Rank 2. Let’s help our dearest Rank 4 with their educational struggles.”

“You are appallingly infuriating.”

“Aww, I love you too, Pres~”

Gakushu rolls his eyes as the redhead blows him a kiss, untangling your hands to reach out for his laptop.

“Scoot.” Karma taps your lower leg with his rolled-up problem set paper.

You lazily raise your head at him, “Mmm, nah. Maybe, if you were nicer, I’d let you sit with us.”

“Come on, move.” Karma starts incessantly whacking your knees with his Math worksheet. You kick back at his arm halfheartedly.

“Alright, don’t move. Fine by me.” he seemingly concedes, halting his paper-swatting assault on your legs—

Before plopping his butt on your outstretched legs.

“Hey!” You immediately struggle against his weight, “Hey! Move off, you're crushing my legs.”

Despite your best efforts, you can barely lift him off of you in your current position.

“Nope, these are the terms you agreed to, sweetheart~” Karma teases.

Still kicking and flailing, you call out to Gakushu for help, but he only goes back to work despite the disturbances. “You’re heavy! Gaku-kun, please get him off me.”

“Akabane, please refrain from causing bodily harm to our partner.” Gakushu requests with a hint of amusement present under his exasperation.

Karma groans but unenthusiastically complies nonetheless. You kick at him in playful revenge once the circulation returns to your legs, and he makes a mocking face at you before setting down his rolled-up Math worksheet on the coffee table.

“Come on, at least move up. I don’t have space.”

“Nooo, if I move up any further Gakushu might push me off the couch.” You protest despite Karma’s expectant looks.

Luckily, Gakushu cuts in, “I would do nothing of the sort.”

You look up at him in surprise. “Eh?” You breathe, waiting for him to continue. He responds by moving his laptop forward and patting his thigh, signaling for you to lie down on him.

Karma shares a surprised look with you before quickly encouraging you with wild hand movements to not pass up the rare opportunity where Gakushu initiates physical affection. You move up to rest your head on his lap despite your reddening face, and when you glance up at the strawberry blonde boy, you see a faint hint of red light up his cheeks as well before he clears his throat and continues typing.

After shaking off the brief shock, Karma finally gets to sit down on the couch. “You can stretch your legs over mine, I’m just gonna read your excerpt so we can finally help you with it.”

“Oh, uh- okay? Thanks,” you say, flustered at the close proximity to your partners. “Let me get them.”

You recover the papers squished between you and the couch and hand them over to Karma. He proceeds to start reading them, and the three of you fall into an easy silence.

—

Well, as easy of a silence as you can maintain, laying there with absolutely no clue what to do while in between your two preoccupied partners.

Karma is still reading the passages on the paper, however, his idle hand had started tracing circles on your ankle at some point. Despite your burning face, you still feel too meek to move or say anything about it.

Gakushu on the other hand, has moved on to his student council work, reading through club constitutions with his left hand scrolling the documents with the trackpad, while his right is combing absentmindedly through your hair.

Despite being physically frozen, your mind is overclocked with the proximity and their casual ministrations. Gakushu and Karma are much too uncomfortable for any overt PDA outside of hand-holding, and you’ve been so busy with schoolwork that you three rarely even have the chance to be physically affectionate in private.

Well, you suppose there has to be a start for everything. Still, you wish you couldn't hear your heartbeat so loud in your ears. You want to be able to relax and enjoy the rare domestic moment with your partners.

They aren’t really making it easy for you, though.

“Hey, hey. No falling asleep now. You still have to defeat Ren to havee any chance at beating us, remember?” Karma gives your leg a double tap to catch your attention.

You jolt, “Wait, eh- Did you say something before that?”

“Yeah, I was asking for which passage you didn’t understand,” Karma states, looking at you in anticipation.

“I- Uh.”

You were trying to formulate a response, trying to remember what exactly you even wanted their help with. But Karma started tracing circles around your inner calf and Gakushu was lightly scratching your scalp with his fingertips, leaving you to do nothing but gape and stutter.

“Hey, sweetheart. You alright?” Karma asks curiously, as if it isn’t clearly obvious that you’re currently flustered.

Laughing awkwardly in response, you resort to covering your face before Gakushu notices that you are as red as Karma’s hair. “Haha, I’m fine,” you mutter into your palms, though the sound is muffled.

You peek out from in between your fingers just in time to see realization dawn on Karma’s face. He gives you a sly grin, now tracing the circles on your calf with more intent.

“Gaku-kun, it seems like we haven’t been the best boyfriends. Look how red they are, we aren’t even doing anything that scandalous yet.”

You let out a little squeal and cover your eyes one more.

“Eh! What do you mean yet? And no, you’re great boyfriends! The best! Just- I’m not- Not used to this.” you stutter out quickly, lowering your hands to uncover your eyes.

“If that’s the case, we’ll make sure you get used to it.” Gakushu gives you a casual head pat, as you look up at him. His heartfelt gaze combined with your comprehension of his statement causes you to shrink into his side to hide your face further.

“I- ugh! You two, you’re gonna kill me here,” you grumble.

Karma laughs loudly and you feel Gakushu vibrate with a chuckle, “Dying from too much love? Now that’s truly a modern-day problem, dearest~”

Comically peeved by his remark, you turn away from Gakushu’s side to glare at Karma, who simply waggles his eyebrows at you in response.

“Anyway—” you start, abruptly cutting yourself off when you feel a ticklish sensation at your feet.

You kick wildly, trying to get away from his hands. “Karma! Stop that- haha! Stop!”

Gakushu quickly lifts up his laptop to avoid your flailing limbs, and you end up falling off the couch from your frantic movements. You roll onto the coffee table with enough force to displace the items placed on it, forcing Karma to get up quickly and check on you.

The panic starts as soon as you raise your head and see Gakushu’s water tumbler topple over.

With the quickest reflexes you can muster, you dive for the bottle before it can hit the floor.

“Gotcha!” you exclaim, catching it just in time.

To your surprise, the tumbler is heavy, as if the water inside was barely depleted. Karma seems to pick up on your realization and raises his hand to his mouth in faux concern. “Uh-oh.” He side-eyes the strawberry-blonde boy on the couch.

Gakushu stiffens up, registering what you two have discovered. He tries to play it off, continuing to type despite knowing what’s coming next for him.

“Gaku-kun?” you smile sweetly at him.

“Mm.”

“When was the last time you drank water?” you question, setting the bottle on the table and standing up to walk over to the couch.

“... I’ll drink some as soon as I finish reviewing the Debate Club’s renewed bylaws proposal,” Gakushu replies curtly, not wishing to elaborate further.

“Gakushu. Go drink water, now.” You demand sternly, tapping your foot on the floor. Karma stands next to you and leans over the strawberry-blonde boy’s laptop.

“Yeah, Pres, it’s not like their constitution will run away while you aren’t looking.” he jokes, using a finger to push down the laptop screen.

Gakushu tugs the laptop away, “Just let me finish this, it won’t take long.”

Despite his attempt to ignore you two, the both of you continue to stare at him expectantly. You have half a mind to just start telling him off again for neglecting his health.

However, before you can speak, Karma shrugs and walks away. “Whatever.”

You almost get annoyed at the redhead’s disregard for your shared partner’s health, until Karma signals something to you as he’s walking behind the couch.

‘Play along.’ he mouths, getting into position.

Not wanting to foil his plan, you put on a stern expression and put your hands on your hips. “Gakushu, what did we tell you about taking care of yourself?”

“I know, I’ve been keeping it in mind. I just got carried away today,” he replied, still averting his gaze and typing incessantly like a man on death row.

You crouch down to put your hands on his laptop and push the screen down, “Please look at me.”

Upon being forced to look you in the eye, Gakushu falters and loosens his grip on his laptop. You take the moment of weakness as an opportunity to place it gently on the couch beside him.

“Gakushu?” you ask softly, leaning in closer.

“Yeah, I know.” he shuts his eyes and exhales, bowing his head to meet your gaze once more.

Gakushu doesn’t notice you glancing towards Karma who is now positioned right behind him.

You drop the act and smile wickedly, “Sorry for this.”

Karma quickly dives behind Gakushu to scoop him up by his armpits. Meanwhile, you turn away from him and take hold of his legs, propping them up on your shoulders. “Hah?” your victim yells out in surprise.

In perfect synchronization, you and Karma lift him and start hauling him downstairs to the kitchen.

“Release me, you ingrates!” Gakushu shouts.

“No can do, Pres!” Karma responds, howling with laughter as you run down the stairs.

You can’t help but giggle at the situation, “Not a very polite thing to call your partners, Gaku-kun!”

Right as you reach the bottom of the stairs, Gakushu manages to struggle enough to send the three of you tumbling down into a tangle of limbs, complaints, and giggles.

Gakushu tries his best to untangle himself from you and Karma, but the two of you are much too amused to let go of him and get off the floor.

Eventually, he stops struggling and lays back down with you two on both sides of him, pinning his limbs down. “Never do that again,” he demands tiredly.

“Only if you promise to never neglect your health again!” you tease, getting close to his face and staring giddily, unable to control your smile.

Karma follows in tow, leaning over Gakushu’s face, “Yeah, Pres, can’t make demands without giving something in return~”

Gakushu looks at both of your grinning faces, exasperated at the two imbeciles he chose as his romantic partners. After a brief moment, rolls his eyes in faux frustration, before letting out a chortle of amusement, “You two are unbelievable.”

The three of you devolve into a series of giggles, snorts, and chuckles.

After you three calm down, you lay your head on Gakushu’s chest and look up at him, “But you still love us right?” Karma reaches over to pull you into a closer hug and settles his chin into Gakushu’s neck.

Gakushu smiles softly, answering your question confidently as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Of course I do.”

---END---

end notes:

motivation has returned full force like koro-sensei flying to hawaii at mach 20 (idk if that allegory makes sense LMAO)

was thinking of a final scene where Gakuho walks in on these buffoons cuddling on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, but nah, wanted to end it on a soft note

have a gold comment from my beta reader, she puts up with so much: (Regarding Karma's circle tracing) - PUTANGINA MO GAGO, HINDI TO LARO, SERYOSOHIN MO TO, PUSO KO YUNG NAKA SALALAY DITO, TARANTADO

on a last note, i've been rereading Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao cause i just got Heavenly Tyrant, and i am this close to writing an au with karma and gakushu in that universe THIS CLOSE-

anw, thanks for reading! let me know your thoughts if possible, and constructive criticism is much appreciated

pls stay safe and have a good day :DDD

97 notes · View notes