#there’s people who do this better than me but I ran out of content to consume so I had to create my own

[hannieehaee]

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS

18+ / mdi

summary: being besties with two of the most popular idols in korea always came with a few rumors here and there, but what happened when one of your platonic besties suddenly started acting a little friendlier than usual? or worse, what happened when they both turned their affections to you?

content: idol!au, hybeidol!reader x idol!mingyu, hybeidol!reader x idol!jungkook, 97liner!reader, friends2lovers, not mingyu x jk (they just share u like all besties would<3), not that much plot, afab reader, smut, oral (f and m receiving), body worship, fingering, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 8.2k (10k+ including kofi/patreon exclusive drabble)

a/n: the teaser for this got way more attention than i was expecting lol i hope u guys enjoy the final product!!

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"Do you think the company would get mad if we did a live together right now?", Jungkook pondered out loud as the three of you sat on different pieces of furniture around his large living room.

"Yeah."

"They didn't seem to mind when Jungkook and I did it that one time," disagreed Mingyu.

"Yeah, but I'm the girl. I'm the one who wakes up to new dating rumors every time we hang out publicly."

"Yeah, but people must know we're just friends by now, right? It's been years."

That much was true.

You weren't sure of the exact date, but your friendship with both boys predated the overall international success of Kpop as of recent years. When you had met both boys, they had barely battled their way through puberty – though you weren't faring any better at the time.

The media enjoyed making the three of you a subject, knowing that you were evidently the closest out of all members of the popular 97s friend group. Being the only girl integrant, it was common for people to have the misconception that you were romantically involved with either Mingyu or Jungkook, seeing as you were often spotted in public with them.

You'd gotten used to the rumors and hate that came attached to being their friend, now usually leaving those things in the back burner rather than letting them bother you. By now, the three of you were a bit more careless about being seen together. Being seniors in the industry, those things didn't matter much to you anymore, but being seen inside Jungkook's house would surely stir up the worst rumors to date, so going live with him was entirely out of the question.

It did bother you sometimes; the double standard. While Jungkook and Mingyu could even interact in public or mention each other freely, any time you did so you were met with hate from either fandom, sometimes even your own. It also made you worry about your future. Could you ever be in a relationship without facing the brunt of all the hate that would come your way? At 26 years of age, it was a frustrating reality to think about.

Jungkook got up at some point to go fetch some more bottles of soju. Apparently the seven bottles the three of you had drank collectively weren't enough for the large men you were drinking with.

While Jungkook was gone, Mingyu got up from his seat on the couch opposite to you and took a seat down next to you, invading your personal space like he usually did.

"Worrying your pretty little head about something?", asked Mingyu as he leaned over you, taking the occasional sip from his drink.

"It's nothing."

"C'mon, what's up?", his hand ran up and down your arm in a soothing manner.

Invading your space and being overly touchy usually meant that he was tipsy. But to be fair, you were a bit tipsy too.

"Do you ever think about dating?"

"Who? You?", he chuckled.

"No, dumbass. I mean in general."

He seemed to sober up a little at the mention of the subject, straightening up a bit as he sat sideways on the couch so he could look at you fully.

"What's got you thinking about that?"

"I don't know ... I'm 26 now. Isn't it time I started settling down? Have someone filling up the other half of the bed," you pondered, feeling a bit pathetic as you did so.

Mingyu let out a quiet sound of confusion, eyebrows furrowed and head leaning to the side in question.

"Isn't that what me and Jungkook are for?"

Not taking him seriously, you chuckled and took a swing of your almost empty bottle of soju.

"I'm serious, Mingyu. I mean a romantic relationship, where, you know, it's just us and we do couple things and we settle down and all that stuff."

"What can you do with some guy that you couldn't do with us?", he grabbed both your drinks and set them on the table.

Suddenly, his demeanor seemed a bit more serious, which confused you.

Where the hell was Jungkook with those drinks?

"I- Are you serious? Do you need me to tell you?"

"Yeah, I mean, why would you need to look for some guy if you have us?"

Oh. He was serious.

"Because we're friends?," you were beyond confused, "I can't go out with you romantically, or move in with you, or," you gulped, "or sleep with you."

"You can't?", he scoot closer to you.

"Mingyu ..."

"I just mean ... Why would you go after some loser when we can just take care of you?", his hand went back to touching you, though this time it ran up and down your thigh rather than your arm. That false semblance of innocence was gone, "You want someone to keep your bed warm? You don't even have to ask ... I'll do it- we'll do it."

Through his short speech, he got closer and closer, just as the air in the room got heavier. The atmosphere itself shifted dramatically, specially with Mingyu so close to you.

Mingyu was the touchiest man you'd ever known. Being his best friend, you had fallen victim to his touchy demeanor endless times, but never like this. Never while his eyes were hooded and heavy with some emotion you'd never seen in them before.

"Gyu, I-"

"Can I show you?", he rasped, eyes now on your lips.

"Y-you're drunk," you were sure that must've been it. The combination between drinking and talking about dating must've short circuited his brain.

"Just tipsy ... Tipsy enough to get the balls to tell you how much I want you ... but lucid enough to remember how many times I've thought about this."

The hands on your thighs moved to your waist, closing in on you, slowly pulling you toward him. By the end of it, you were halfway sitting on his lap.

"You've thought about this?"

Your nervous hands went to his shoulders for support, easily giving in to him.

"So many times. Jungkook too," he chuckled as he began burying his head in your neck, lips ghosting the sensitive skin.

Lacking any control of your body, you repositioned yourself to allow him better access to you, now fully on his lap as he sat sideways on the couch, arms wrapped fully around you and face buried in your neck.

"Gyu, I-"

"Yeah? Is this okay? Is it okay if I kiss your neck like this? This is what you wanted, right? Someone to take care of you?", he mumbled as he made his way to your ear with breathy kisses.

You were burning up, completely powerless to Mingyu. It was kind of embarrassing how easily you gave in to him. How you had been entirely unaware of his want for you until five minutes ago, yet you were now pliant in his hold, willing to listen to his senseless argument about him and Jungkook being good replacement for a relationship. You also had that to think about – the Jungkook aspect of it all.

The reminder of Jungkook's presence woke you up a bit, remembering that you were literally sitting on your best friend's lap while in your other best friend's living room.

With half a mind to let Mingyu do whatever he wanted to do with you, you powered your way through your decision to pull him away from your neck.

"Gyu, wait. Kook could get here any minute-"

"Don't stop on my account. Seemed like you were having fun without me."

Your head snapped to the door at the introduction of the raspy voice of your best friend, finding said friend leaning against the doorframe with a few drinks in one hand and a few ramen cups stacked on the other.

"Jungkook-"

"So, can someone catch me up?", he got closer, dropping off all the food he was carrying on the table and sitting next to you on the couch.

The position made it so that Jungkook was technically sitting behind you. Since you were on Mingyu's lap and sitting sideways on the couch, you were now being sandwiched by both boys. Jungkook still kept a small distance, making you have to turn around in Mingyu's hold to look at him.

While you probably embodied the image of a deer caught in headlights, Mingyu seemed completely relaxed, hands still comfortably on your waist.

"I was actually just catching Y/N up," said Mingyu, an overly cocky tone in his voice as his hands continued to feel up and down your waist.

"Oh? Without me?", chuckled Jungkook, leaning a bit closer.

"What the hell is happening?"

"How much did you tell her?", Jungkook ignored you, staring directly at Mingyu. His eyes would occasionally trail down to Mingyu's hands on your waist, a sour look overtaking his face.

It seemed like you had missed a few chapters in the friendship; there was some unspoken agreement between the two in which you were the main character. While it bothered you to think that they'd discussed you in private, the enigma of it all also excited you. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, or maybe it was the way in which Mingyu's entire demeanor had become possessive when you brought up dating. The reason didn't matter when you were already beginning to heat up.

"Just caught her up a little on the, uh, situation," said Mingyu with an unrecognizable glint in his eyes, "Did you know she was thinking about dating?", he asked Jungkook, ignoring your presence while still having his hands on you.

Mingyu's hand had made it under your shirt by now, feeling the warm skin of your back.

"Oh? Since when?", he finally turned to you, scooting up a tiny bit more.

Due to his new proximity, you turned your head around, facing Mingyu again. That proved to be a mistake, as Mingyu was even closer to you. Jungkook also took advantage of this, braving a few more inches in closeness and letting his face come closer to your neck. He pushed your hair aside for better access, simply breathing against you as he awaited your answer.

Responding was the hardest thing in the world. Your mind was simply not working at the moment, the situation being far too intimate for you to fully function. On one side you had the huge hunk of a man that was Mingyu, warm hands against the bare skin of your back all while you sat on his leg. On the other, you had the gorgeous embodiment of a boyfriend that was Jungkook, whose fingers were now slowly running up and down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake while he nosed at your neck.

You had your two gorgeous best friends giving you the best type of attention all while your brain fizzled with your tipsiness.

"Answer him, baby," murmured Gyu.

"I- I just," you sighed when Jungkook began leaving feather-light kisses on your neck, "just thought about maybe getting b-back in the market? To meet someone and-"

"But you have us?", Jungkook sounded genuinely confused, seemingly unable to understand the platonic nature behind your friendship.

"That's what I said!", added Mingyu.

"But I want a boyfriend, n-not-"

"Boyfriend? Baby ...", Jungkook disconnected from you, grabbing your head to make you twist your neck in order to look at him, "That's just an upgrade. You want a boyfriend? We'll give you two. You don't need to be looking around for some loser," his eyes gradually lowered to your lips as he spoke, breath heavy against them.

"K-Kook, I-"

"Please say yes? Please just ... Let me show you? We can show you together. Right, Gyu?", he murmured, mere inches away from your mouth.

Before you knew it, you were nodding, far too desperate to voice your desire.

As embarrassing as it was to admit, you had thought of kissing Jungkook before. Being one of the prettiest boys you'd ever seen before, it was hard at first to keep your relationship with him fully platonic, having had to beat down a small crush you had developed on him at an earlier age. His kiss, however, was not something you could've ever predicted.

Even with the awkward angle, and Mingyu's hands still on you, Jungkook gave you the dizziest of kisses. He knew how to get you hooked immediately, starting with a heavy kiss that had you chasing him the moment he pulled away. With a quiet and breathy laugh, he kissed you again, languid and wet in the way his tongue snuck between your lips, seamlessly making its way into your mouth to play with yours.

Shamelessly, you moaned against his lips, hands digging into Mingyu's shoulders as he continued to hold you. The slight awkwardness of making out with Jungkook while giving your back to Mingyu, yet still holding onto him, was present in your mind. However, Jungkook's sensual yet playful way of kissing you took up most of your attention.

But you knew Mingyu to be a whiny mess of a man at times, so you knew it wouldn't be long before he attempted to regain your attention. The evidence was in the way he felt you up all throughout, hands on your breasts as he pinched at your nipples through your shirt, groaning at the feeling of your tits in his hands. Occasionally, his hands would go down to your cunt, ghosting the place where you needed the most attention before making their way back up to your chest.

Pulling you away by the waist, you were forced to separate from Jungkook, eyes still closed as your lips chased his own. This time Jungkook's lips also attempted to regain possession over yours, with his tongue catching a few last nasty licks of your own.

"It's my turn," grumbled Mingyu, making you turn back to him, "You're on my lap but kiss him only? Baby, we're supposed to share you!", he pouted.

Giggling, you got even closer to him, cradling his head in your hands as you lightly pulled at his hair.

You turned to Jungkook one quick last time, "Kookie?"

His eyes lit up at your question, giving you a view of his round eyes as he gave you his full attention.

"Scoot closer, yeah? Put your hands around me," you encouraged him, humming in contentment when he went above and beyond and began to kiss your neck in the process.

Turning back to Mingyu, there was still an ever-so-present pout on his features, making you giggle again before finally kissing his lips.

Now, Mingyu's kiss was completely different from that of Jungkook's.

You had known Mingyu for as much time as you had Jungkook. He had a bit of a reputation when you had first met, being known as a guy who would occasionally sleep around with other idols, and sometimes staff. Now at 26, he had been retired from that era of his life for a while, but you'd be lying if you didn't say he always made you wonder. He always had all the girls swooning, instantly falling in love with his outgoing persona and his incomparable charisma. His looks also did not help matters. Being so handsome and likable, you occasionally fell victim to his charms, sometimes needing to snap yourself out of R rated thoughts you'd have about him on nights you were feeling particularly lonely.

His kiss felt exactly the way he looked. It was rich and insanely hot. Mingyu made love to your mouth, using his tongue in ways you didn't know a man could. He was domineering in the way he kissed you, with a firm hand on your jaw so he could position you in a way that allowed him to kiss you just the way he liked. And he liked it nasty. He liked it wet and filthy and in a way that made you sure you'd cum if he kissed you for a little too long.

You could barely catch up to the situation, having one gorgeous man fucking your mouth with his tongue while the other suckled at the most sensitive spots of your neck. In the meantime, your cunt was gushing with essence, already so extremely wet you were beginning to squirm in Mingyu's hold.

You attempted to pull away once, only to be enticed into kissing Mingyu again as he groaned against you, tongue seducing yours once more. You attempted to pull away twice, having his arms wrap tighter around you. The third time is when you finally succeeded, whining against Mingyu's mouth that you needed more. This caused yet another groan to come out of Mingyu, only to be echoed by Jungkook's own groan against your neck.

They both disconnected from you, looking to each other in a decisive manner, almost as if to formulate a game plan.

"I want her first," said Jungkook, slapping Mingyu's hands away from you and attempting to move you onto his lap.

Mingyu stopped him, holding you tighter against him as he rebutted, "You? She's already on my lap. I should have her first."

"Dude, I'm about to blow up. Just let me fuck her and then you can have her while I recover," be argued, hands fighting Mingyu's off of you.

"Why can't I choose?", you butt in, annoyed.

Their demeanors swiftly changed at your interruption, both pairs of hands now touching either your waist or thighs in an intimate yet caring manner.

"What do you want, pretty? My cock? Hmm?", asked Mingyu with a sweet voice in an attempt to convince you. Meanwhile, Jungkook wordlessly kissed at your neck again, nibbling at your ear and smirking at how you shuddered at the feeling.

"I-", you were already lightheaded again, "I wanna suck your dick, Gyu. Want Kookie to fuck me while I suck your dick," you murmured, hand holding Jungkook's head against your neck to keep his kisses coming.

Mingyu groaned at this, nodding absentmindedly. He began to shift, attempting to get up in order to get himself ready for you, but you stopped him.

"Undress me? Both of you?", you asked in the softest voice you could muster. You wanted both their hands on you at once, feeling your nude body for the first time. You knew their desire for you was already clouding their minds, so you wanted to do everything in your power to relish in every single touch, every look filled with lust they would give you.

Without another word, both boys got up, standing you up with them. Their hands were messy and uncoordinated as they got every garment off you, feeling you up in the process. Your breasts were groped and fondled multiple times in the process, while Jungkook pressed your ass up against him any chance he could, groaning at the slight stimulation.

Finally undressed, you decided to turn around once more, facing Jungkook as you kissed him with no warning. You smirked into his mouth when you felt Mingyu grab you from behind and press your ass up against him, grinding slowly against you. You knew it wasn't enough to get him anywhere, but you enjoyed knowing he was needy enough to use you in such a fruitless way just for a little stimulation.

Meanwhile, your hands went straight to Jungkook's oversized top, hands sneaking underneath to feel up his muscular form, hands harshly rubbing on his strong chest. It seemed Jungkook was overly sensitive to your touch. He whined needy breaths into your mouth as you felt him up. Taking off his shirt, you moaned as you saw the gorgeous figure of your best friend.

God, he was the prettiest thing you'd ever seen. You couldn't wait until you saw the rest of his pretty body, sculpted by the endless hours of work you knew he always put into the gym. The endless hours in which you had accompanied him to said gym, always having to look away before you started to have inpure thoughts of your best friend.

He helped you in the removing of his pants and boxers, throwing his head back when your hands immediately went to find his cock and play with it. Burying his head in your neck, he groaned against your skin, whining at the feeling of your hands finally wrapped around him after having wanted you for so long.

Behind you, you heard shuffling, assuming Mingyu to have been removing his own clothes as he waited for his turn of your attention to come. You felt badly at leaving him hanging for too long, knowing him to have an overly impatient disposition when he didn't receive attention for extended periods of time.

Playing with Jungkook's cock just for a little longer, you gave him one last kiss before turning around and trapping Mingyu in his own kiss. Unlike with Jungkook, you didn't linger long, opting instead to push him down the large conversation pit – thank god for Jungkook's insanely big mansion – located just a few steps away from the couch where it had all begun. This way you could have all the space you wanted to play with your friends.

Now lying down, Mingyu looked you up and down like you were his next prey, licking his lips at the sight and motioning at you to come sit on him despite knowing that you wanted something else.

"C'mon, baby. Ditch him. Don't you want me instead?," he leaned upwards to try and convince you of sitting on him.

It was hard to deny him with his cock staring up at you in such a challenging manner. He was equally as gorgeous as your other bestie, but in so many different ways. Mingyu was so big and thick and buff, he had you salivating at the mere sight of him. He was so toned yet so thick, and his dick matched perfectly. God, the thought of that monster inside you had your eyes rolling back already. Did he really mean it when he said he'd be yours? That he and Jungkook would share you? The idea of a boyfriend sounded stupid in retrospect.

Despite all your better judgment telling you to jump Mingyu and let him impale you with his cock right then and there, you knew that starting off with Jungkook would give you a better buildup. You also knew that based on Jungkook's competitive personality, he'd become even whinier than Mingyu if you didn't let him take care of you first.

Fully determined, you turned back to Jungkook, who had been standing there in a trance, now having a better view of your body and keeping his eyes religiously glued to it. You grabbed onto him and walked yourself back to the large conversation pit, eyes glued to Jungkook's in a seductive manner as you guided him to the area in which Mingyu was already lying down. In only a few seconds, you let go of Jungkook and positioned yourself in front of Mingyu at an eye level with his cock while he sat up and looked down at you with a pained look in his eyes. In all fours, your back faced Jungkook, hinting at him to get behind you so that you could finally get back to business.

With a groan, Jungkook knelt behind you, needy hands feeling the curve of your back as he pushed you up against him. In the meantime, you began softly playing with Mingyu's cock, making him throw his head back at finally receiving some attention where he'd been craving it for so long.

"You're so pretty, fuck ... No one deserves you, baby. Too fucking pretty n perfect n fuck ... Can I fuck you now, pretty? Hmm? Let me have this pretty pussy while you suck off your bestie," rambled Jungkook from behind you, head lowered so he could kiss at your hips.

You whined and pushed up your ass against him, giving him the green light to do whatever he wanted, when suddenly he stopped.

"Fuck, wait. Condom?", he asked, making Mingyu groan, as you were about to engulf him in your mouth but also halted your movements to tend to Jungkook's question.

"It's okay, Kookie. The company put me on some new birth control. You can fuck me raw," you smirked up at Mingyu, giggling at yet another groan of his.

"He gets you raw? Baby, I'm the one who started all this! How's that fair?", he huffed.

Taking a quick separation from Jungkook, you gestured for Mingyu to lean down so he could meet you halfway. With a wet kiss, you made your way to his ear and whispered against it.

"I'm saving you for last, baby. Gonna ride you til I cry ... Now be good and cum in my mouth?"

He groaned so loudly his entire body vibrated under you as you crawled your way back to your previous position. Jungkook simply laughed at the interaction.

Feeling you up once more, Jungkook finally grabbed onto his cock and lined himself up, groaning at the gushing wetness that coated his cock as he entered you. Your own moan was masked by Mingyu's cock, which you were currently working into your mouth.

"Oh, fuck ... It's so tight, baby ... It's so fuckin' warm n tight n so pretty, baby. Such a pretty cunt," babbled Jungkook, immediately pussydrunk.

Could he be blamed? He had wanted you for years. From the moment he met you, he cursed at himself for being so damn shy and initiating a friendship with you rather than showing you his interest. His members constantly teased him over it, even so many years into his crush. When he first found out Mingyu also had similar ideas in mind, he felt conflicted. But he ultimately grew close enough to the two of you to the point where he wouldn't mind sharing you with his bestest of friends.

Your muffled moans completely took him out of it, taking away any ability to think or speak. He simply chased after you with his hips, canting them against your own as you pushed back against him.

"Is it good, pretty? Like my cock?" he winced at the way you tightened any time he'd speak to you.

"So good, Kookie. So big ...," you pulled away from Mingyu to breathe before going back to licking and sucking at his tip, moaning against him as his eyes rolled back.

You were practically centipede in Jungkook's living room, with Mingyu lying on his back as you gagged on his cock and Jungkook pounding into you from behind. All your senses were overtaken by the mindless quest for pleasure you had all taken on.

"You're so good with your mouth, pretty ... Fuck, look so pretty stuffed of cock," Mingyu gasped, throwing his head back, "Like how he fucks you, baby? Just wait til I get to you ... Gonna stuff that pretty pussy so good ..."

You moaned against his cock, already thirsty for him even as Jungkook continued to ram into you. Pushing your ass back against him, you felt Jungkook's nails dig into the skin of your hips, adoring how malleable you were for him.

"Baby ... 'm gonna cum soon ... Feels so fucking good, pretty. You're so fucking g-good for me. Wanted you so fuckin' bad, you have no idea ..." murmured Jungkook as he entered his high, hips lacking any control in their movements.

Jungkook had always been the most sensible of the bunch, never holding back from expressing how strongly he felt for the people in his life. The pleasure must've been so much that it made him unfiltered in revealing the undeniable effect you had on him.

"W-where do I cum? Fuck, gonna fucking cum, it's so good, baby. Take it so good for me, shit ..."

You were too busy gagging on cock to respond right away, so you had to take a minute to pull away and catch your breath, replacing your mouth with your hand while also holding yourself up with the other one.

"Inside? Cum inside, Kookie. I'll- I'll cum too," you were breathless, barely able to get the words out as a petulant Mingyu whined at you to help him finish, hands going behind your head and lightly encouraging you to get your mouth back on him.

"Inside? Fuck, okay, baby. Gonna fill you up, yeah?", he groaned, muttering to himself right afterwards, "Fucking finally ..."

His hips sped up drastically as his high approached, making you choke around Mingyu not just due to his girth, but due to the intense ramming against your ass. Though harsh and with an unmatchable energy, you continued to try and push your hips back toward his own, wanting to milk him dry as your own high invaded your senses.

His desperation for you made you feel so incredibly good, like you were the prettiest girl to ever exist. It made you arch your back a little deeper, take a little more of Gyu's cock, dig your nails a little harsher into the cushion of the conversation pit. You heightened all your actions just to feel him a little more.

And then it reached its crescendo. All while Jungkook whimpered and cried at how sensitive he felt at your tightening walls, Mingyu also found his own high. You were too distracted with your own orgasm to acknowledge him asking you for permission to cum in your mouth, instead suctioning more intensely to wordlessly give him an enthusiastic yes, please fill up my mouth with your cum.

By the time Mingyu filled up your mouth, Jungkook had already finished his high, now kneeling behind you as he peppered kisses all over your back and hips, whispering against you how good you had been for him and how pretty you looked with his cum leaking out of you. Fully drunk on the aftermath of his high, Jungkook loved on you like any lover would.

In the meantime, you attempted to swallow every bit of Mingyu's essence, moaning against his cock afterwards as you licked at every lone drop that made it out of your mouth.

By the end of it, you were all completely spent. Each of you dropped one by one, with Jungkook lying on his back as he caught his breath, you falling onto Mingyu, and Mingyu attempting to pull you up to climb his body so that he could kiss you again.

With the very little energy you had regained, you crawled up Mingyu's body, making out with him as he attempted to lick his way into your mouth in order to taste himself in your mouth. Kissing evolved into feeling each other up, which then became grinding your now sensitive pelvises against each other. Surprisingly, Mingyu was still half-hard, which gave you the perfect surface to grind your cunt into. He sat up, making you sit up with him before beginning to leave kisses on the side of your neck.

"Baby? Gonna ride me like you said, right? Just .. Fuck, want that pretty pussy, baby. It's my turn to have that tiny little cunt wrapped around me, yeah?", he murmured between kisses.

You gave in to him easily, gasping at every word that accompanied every kiss.

Nodding mindlessly, you almost forgot to think back to Jungkook, who was probably still recovering from his orgasm.

"W-what about Kookie?," you mumbled when Mingyu began positioning you above his cock.

"Don't worry about me, pretty. Just enjoying the view", you turned back to see Jungkook lying back on his elbows, one hand on his semi-flacid cock as he began to work himself up at the sight of you sitting on your best friend.

Well, that worked well enough for you.

"Now pay attention to me, princess. Been ignoring me all day today," Mingyu grabbed onto your chin to make you look at him, thumb softly rubbing at your chin as he tilted your head back.

You were insanely wet by now, not only from your orgasm but also from just Mingyu's mere presence. Knowing how intense and touchy Mingyu always was in PG scenarios, you couldn't help your eyes rolling back at the thought of him between the sheets. His heavy cock on your tongue had been enough of a taste to know how good it'd feel when finally inside you.

His strong hands lifted you up a bit, rescuing his dick from under you as he helped you position it under you, holding tightly onto your hips when you began to lower yourself down. You would've moaned and whined at the immense stretch, but Mingyu had different plans for your mouth. His thick fingers slipped into your mouth, making you gag a bit before you began sucking on them.

Too many things were on your mind, with all your senses being invaded by Mingyu – though also accompanied by Jungkook's low moans of pleasure behind you. Even as your body was bouncing against Mingyu's, attempting to match his thrusts, your head was completely empty of any thought. All you could think about was Mingyu, and his cock, and his fingers, and his pretty body, and and and-

"Feel good, princess? Love my cock, hmm? Tell me how much you like my cock, angel," he groaned as he took his fingers out of your mouth, using the wet fingertips to tweak at your nipple as his mouth engulfed the opposite one.

"So much ... It's so big. Fuck, Gyu, you're s-so big ..."

Barely able to formulate words, you cried as Mingyu helped you bounce on him, occasionally opting to grind in a way that made your clit get the perfect stimulation. It all felt too good. Mingyu's gigantic hands on your body while his lips suckled on your tits as Jungkook groaned so prettily behind you. You were far too sensitive and alert to hold back from the life-altering orgasm that was to come. So, you voiced this concern to Mingyu.

His response came in the form of flipping you around and trapping you underneath him. His big hands held onto your waist, lifting you a bit so he could angle himself just right. Eyes rolling back and nails digging onto the bed, you lost yourself in him. Jungkook seemed to be completely lost to pleasure also. You could finally see him after Mingyu flipped you over, and fuck ... He looked so desperate, so depraved in the way he hammered into his cock, mouth permanently agape as he let out little praises to you.

"I need you to cum for me, okay, princess? Show Jungkook how good I make you feel. Need you to milk me dry, yeah? Can you do that for me?", he dumbly talked down at you with a tone that could only be seen as patronizing in any other context. But here, you loved it. You loved how dumbly he treated you. Because it was true. You could not think, you could not speak. Your senses were all gone and replaced by a constant stream of cock cock cock as Mingyu finally made you reach your orgasm.

Mingyu played with you through the entirety of your orgasm, rubbing at your clit with one hand while holding you with the other, his lips constantly attached to your tits.

"G-gyu, I- fuck! C-cumming! Please, I-" you had no idea what you were begging for as your orgasm completely took over, making you tighten around Mingyu as he mumbled into your chest, letting you know of his own impending high.

Despite having already had an equally fulfilling orgasm, this second one brought out a new sensitivity in you. Falling under Mingyu, you whimpered at the way he flipped you over again to lay on his chest, caressing your back and pressed you up against him, even more when Jungkook laid beside you and softly ran his hands through your hair.

The three of you laid there together, with you halfway laying on Mingyu while Jungkook laid on the opposite side of you, cuddling into you. Behind you, you could feel Jungkook's flacid member, meaning he had also reached a second high along with you and Mingyu. Lying there together, completely sober now, you eventually let sleep take over you, nuzzling into both boys in a satisfied manner.

A few days passed by since your encounter with the 97s. They were pretty eventful as far as your job went, attending a few photoshoots and practicing constantly for whatever new activity was coming up for your group. However, things between you and your friends had remained stagnant. You didn't think they had ghosted you or anything like that, but the timing of your busy schedules picking up right after breaking your platonic relationship did make you anxious.

When you'd woken up that next day, Mingyu was gone, having left one of the packs of ramen cooked and ready for you with a note attached detailing how much he enjoyed last night, saying he had wanted to stay and say goodbye but had a a schedule that had been calling for him. It was signed with his name and a little heart.

Jungkook had been half-awake already, having carried you to his bed when he had woken up, right after Mingyu's departure. You had wanted to talk about last night, but also had a schedule over at the company, so you left after cuddling with a sleepy Jungkook for a short while, not really discussing anything, yet sharing a sweet kiss as a goodbye for the day.

And so you hadn't really seen them since then. It was the unfortunate reality of idol life. That night had been the first in a few weeks in which you'd even been able to see each other. You were unsure when the next one would come, but you needed it to be soon. The remembrance of that night kept messing with your head, especially any time you'd see either of your friends in passing at the Hybe building, never being free long enough for a worthy interaction.

On the fourth night since the incident, you finally had more time off for yourself, hoping maybe they did too. Mingyu got ahead of you in that aspect, texting you the previous night, somehow aware of your time off, and asking you over. There was no deeper interpretation to be had in his message, as it was pretty straightforward. Nervous as to whether to expect a repeat of last time or a conversation about it, you let him know you'd be there.

Jungkook and Mingyu had always been closer to each other than to you. Going out together was always easier for them since no scandalous rumors would arise from it. They were also often in the same friend groups, knowing more male idols than you did due to the nature of the industry. It was easy for you to assume that they had already spoken about what had happened, even before it happened. Throughout the night, they kept referencing some type of agreement they'd had regarding you and dating. It was hard to assume, but you wondered if they meant sharing you – as strange as it sounded.

Your questions would only be answered tonight, leading you to some anxiety before finally arriving to Mingyu's.

~

"I missed you," were Mingyu's first words when he welcomed you, trapping you in a warm hug as he usually did. Hugging Mingyu was, in your opinion, one of your life's greatest privileges. He was so big and strong, it always felt like being completely engulfed in the safest of spaces.

His hug was followed by one of Jungkook's, less tight in nature but just as rewarding. He held onto your waist and nuzzled against you, always attempting to bury himself in whoever he held in his arms.

Quietly, they guided you to Mingyu's living room, slightly smaller than Jungkook's but still very much reminiscent of a millionaire's home.

You looked over to the coffee table, tilting your head in confusion at the presence of cans of diet soda rather than the usual alcohol Mingyu would always provide. Sensing your confusion, Mingyu chuckled.

"No alcohol today. Thought you might wanna talk about what happened," he sat down on the couch, patting the empty space next to him so you'd join him. Behind to you, Jungkook joined, sitting on a lone seat facing you and Mingyu. No matter where you looked, the two boys would be in front of you.

"We've been keeping you in the dark, huh?," pondered Jungkook, handing you a freshly opened can of soda, "Sorry about that. No easy way to tell your best friend you're into her."

Oh. He was going straight to the point.

"I like you, if that wasn't clear already," he let out a breathless chuckle, attempting to hold eye contact but failing.

He was much better at this when he was working his way into your pants.

"And so do I," interrupted Mingyu.

Wait.

"Are you-"

"We both like you."

"I- Have you talked about this?"

"Uh, it's come up, yeah," Mingyu scratched the back of his neck.

"I don't really know what to say ..."

"We just ... You had fun the other night, right?"

"Yeah, I mean, it was great," you took a breath, "but we're friends. Right?"

You weren't sure if you were being rational or not. Did you like Mingyu and Jungkook? Sure. But together? At the same time? You had never considered such type of relationship.

"We- we don't have to be just friends," added Jungkook, not much confidence in his voice. He cleared his throat and tried again, "We like you, and we know that you like us back. Maybe not in the same way, but you do. That night would've gone very differently if you didn't."

You could've lied. You could've lied and left it off as an amazing one night stand with your two best friends. But the thought of never feeling what you felt that night ever again was not something you wanted to risk. It wasn't just about the pleasure. You had meant what you said that night; you wanted a stable relationship. You wanted someone to call a best friend, but be more than that. Someone to hold you at night. The three of you had always been glued by the hip, but you had never really thought of what it'd be like to take the next step – to have them be that person (or those people).

There were just too many questions in your head. Would this change your relationship negatively? Would they actually want to share you? Would this go anywhere?

You opted for answering Jungkook's question with another question.

"Are you okay with both of you liking me?"

They looked at each other for a moment before Mingyu ultimately answered.

"We've discussed it," he started, "When we first realized we both liked you, it did cause some tension. But the closer we got to you, the more we realized that we just wanted to be with you. Whether as friends or as more, we just wanted you."

You gulped at the confession, feeling your face heating up all of the sudden.

"I- I don't know what to say, I- I like you too. Both of you. I always thought that it was just as friends, but ... there'd be moments where I'd wonder. And after that night, I just-"

Jungkook leaned forwards, grabbing onto your hands. He smiled, ignoring most of your words and paying attention to what he cared about the most – you liked him.

"You like me back? Us? Do you- We could treat you so right. I- I've wanted you since we met. I've liked you for so long and ... Not just for sex. We could be more," his words were slightly frantic in nature, almost as if he wanted to sell something to you.

He didn't need any selling. You liked him. It became more and more glaring by the minute.

"Nothing has to change. We've been friends for this long. Just ... That guy you're looking for? To settle down with? That could be us," added Mingyu, placing a palm on your thigh for reassurance.

"What happens if I say yes?"

Mingyu's eyes grew dark.

"Do you want the PG version?"

You shook your head, mouth agape as you looked to Mingyu.

His face lit up as he leaned closer and closer to you, lips approaching the sensitive spots he had discovered on your neck just a few days ago. Stopping for just one moment, he looked to Jungkook to gesture he sit opposite of you, making you become sandwiched by both men yet again.

Now with both boys kissing down your neck, you allowed your head to rest against the back of the couch, attempting to fight the shudders escaping your body at the sensation.

"As our girlfriend ... we'd take you on dates," Mingyu sucked at a particularly sensitive spot, licking at it afterwards, "buy you pretty gifts, keep you warm at night," he took a pause, licking up the length of your neck, "take care of you every day."

Jungkook continued from where Mingyu left off, leaving soft whispers of kisses under your ear, "We share you. We take you home, cook for you, protect you," he nipped at your lobe, "We love you like no one else could ever imagine."

By now, you were gone. Through their whispered promises, their hands had decided to intrude your space yet again. Jungkook's had found a home between your legs, running up your skirt and gracing at your cunt, but only enough to have you puffing out breaths of desire. Mingyu's had migrated upwards, lowering the straps of your dress and liberating your breasts, hands needy as they pulled and tweaked at your nipples.

"What do you say, princess?", Mingyu pulled away, lips reaching your own, "Wanna have two boyfriends?", he pecked at your lips sensually.

"Mhmm ...", you nodded pathetically, not trusting your voice.

Jungkook groaned at your answer, hand finally slipping inside your panties, "Good girl ..."

"Fuck, gonna treat you so good, gorgeous," said Mingyu, continuing to kiss at your lips tongue seeking your own.

His lips trailed down to your breasts, sensually licking at your nipples, gradually giving them more and more attention. By the end of it, you were crying at the sensitivity.

Jungkook continued to play with your cunt, driving his fingers through your folds at a rhythmic pace that made your hips take a mind of their own, grinding upwards with a complete lack of coordination.

You were so focused on Jungkook's fingers that you didn't notice Mingyu making his way down your body, now kneeling between your legs as his lips made their way up your thighs, marking them to his heart's contentment.

"So fucking pretty ... Been wanting your pretty thighs around my head for years, princess ...", he mumbled to himself, nosing his way towards your cunt. When he finally arrived, he nudged Jungkook's finger's away, sticking his nose against your cunt as he took a shameless whiff of your scent, groaning gruttaly against you.

"So good ... Fuck, need this pretty cunt so bad. Can I have it, baby? Hmm? Let me have a taste of this pretty pussy?" he asked between depraved licks of your cunt through your panties.

Hiccuping back a sob, you nodded, opening your legs wider as you took a hold of Jungkook's hand for support.

Needing no further confirmation, Mingyu went straight into your cunt, ignoring the obstacle of your panties by pushing them aside. In the meantime, Jungkook's hand went to your chin, turning your whiny lips to his own and giving you a languid kiss. His tongue played with your own, taking advantage of your constant cries of pleasure to suck at your tongue and bite your lips as much as he desired.

Your hands went from holding onto Jungkook for support to his pants, undoing the drawstring as he continued to kiss you. With shaky hands, you snuck your hands in, pulling out his hardened cock as you began to jerk it in your hand. Now you were even; equally pathetic cries being released into each other's mouths as you both chased your highs.

Beneath you, you almost missed the way Mingyu's hips began humping against the couch, groans being released into your cunt due to the stimulation. You were far too distraed by kissing Jungkook, but Mingyu's eyes were rolled all the way back as his hips became uncontrollable, cumming in his boxers just moments before he licked you to completion.

Even as you came, Mingyu's lips didn't leave your cunt, just as yours stayed on Jungkook's. The room was a mess of wet sounds of tongues as Mingyu finally separated himself from you to take a breath.

"Prettiest fucking cunt," he mumbled to himself as he let himself lay on the floor of his living room in exhaustion.

"C-cum! 'm gonna cum ...", Jungkook managed to mumble against your lips, attempting to pull back but being enticed by your lips to continue kissing. Your hands sped up at his warning, warning his pretty seed to coat your hands as he reached his nirvana.

With a last groan, Jungkook froze against you while riding his high, hips pathetic in their movements against your hand. Bringing up your hand to your lips, you made a show of licking the remnants of cum, grinning when you beard a unison of groans from both boys.

Out of breath, Jungkook leaned against you, cuddling into you with a satisfied yet smile.

"So, was that a yes?"

Mingyu made his way to the couch again, taking up the last bit of personal space you had.

You chuckled.

"Yes. That was a yes."

to read short 2.7k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content: smut, oral (f receiving), jerking off, cucking, penetrative sex, reunion sex, etc.

wc: 296 (teaser); 2770 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Fuck, missed you so much. You have no idea," whispered Jungkook against your neck.

After having cornered you in one of Hybe's many endless hallways, Jungkook had grabbed you by the hand and led you to an empty changing room, pushing you up against the door and burying his face in your neck. It was mostly innocent, sans the feathery kisses down your neck. His hands were still in appropriate places.

"I was only gone for a month," you giggled against him.

"A month too long. Do you know how annoying Mingyu gets when you're not around? Jesus Christ," he groaned in mock annoyance, refusing to separate from your neck.

Breathing you in, he hummed, arms wrapping impossibly tighter around you.

"Where is he, by the way?"

"What, not enough attention from one of your boyfriends?", he softly bit at your neck in defiance, licking at the mark he left when you jumped in surprise.

"No! Just ... Missed seeing you two together."

After only a month of entering a romantic relationship, you were embarrassed to admit, but you had become quite needy, always wanting them around. This had led to a few problems within your company, which was blissfully unaware of your three-way relationship, but still had to deal with how much closer you had gotten – especially in public. There had been a few more rumors as of late, though none actually traced back to anything credible.

"He's at the gym. Should be here any minute, though, since he knows you're back."

"Hmm," you hummed, disconnecting him from your neck despite his complaints, "Wanna start without him?" you grinned.

With a boyish nod and a peak of his bunny teeth, the pretty boy agreed, dragging you over to one of the empty couches in the room.

...

find the 18+ continuation on kofi or patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

[rhiannons-bird]

I made some ChoT memes

[ashleyisartsy]

Problems (objective and personal) I'm not seeing discussed a lot w this new WatcherTV thing, in no particular order:

-Alienates people internationally who literally CANNOT GET the streaming service!

-Alienates casual fans who don't watch or want to watch all of their shows. Putting down 60 bucks a year to watch just one or two shows is kind of insane, at least for me.

-The volume of content Watcher has produced historically hasn't been enough to justify a separate streamer. I understand there's no way a small team could compete with something like Netflix, obviously, but that's what you're trying to do by putting yourself in the streamer market.

-Will this streamer be secure? What steps are in place to protect your viewers info? ESPECIALLY payment info.

-Will it be easily watchable on multiple devices? I watch YouTube videos on my phone at work 90% of the time, or at home on my TV thru my switch. Is this a browser only deal?

-What are the internet requirements for this? Believe it or not most streaming services won't run on my internet personally. I don't have any for that reason. I can watch YouTube on 360p, or on my 2-bar-reception phone data. Not everywhere has stable reliable internet.

-The suddenness and totality of the move was going to be jarring no matter what, if the idea had been introduced gradually or started as a hybrid model to test audience interest there wouldn't be nearly this amount of pushback.

-I understand the people saying "pay artists!!" Bc I am one, and I get that their quality is expensive and they have a whole company's worth of people to support. I do actually think their work is worth paying for! Everyone's is! But convincing anyone to pay for something they previously got for free is going to be a hard sell. They were still getting paid before, they're now just asking us to pay instead of the advertisers. Idk about you, but that's a way bigger hit to my pocketbook than a multimillion dollar company's bank account.

-I get that YouTube can be a really shitty place to be a creator sometimes, and that being beholden to advertisers is something they don't want to be. It's why they left Buzzfeed! They already have a patreon and merch and it's clearly not been enough for their ambitions. But shooting yourself in the foot because your running shoes are wearing out isn't going to make you a better marathon runner. They had to know that there was going to be a not small portion of their audience unwilling to make this move with them (and again, lots literally aren't able to!)

-If they had a free w/ ads option, or even did a hybrid model with whole shows behind the pay wall, or even just ran a fucking crowd funding campaign to help cover costs of new seasons of shows, any of those things could have worked. They don't even have YouTube memberships turned on, which I've personally seen many many channels do even when they already have a patreon. It really doesn't seem like they've exhausted other options, at least from an outside perspective, which is all we have as viewers!

-I get that this has been in the works for a long time, and that there probably isn't a way for them to back out now. But I hope they can find a way to make this more accessible if they want it to work at all. I truly am not wishing for their downfall, but the whole situation is an awful mess.

Idk, rant over. As a lot of you are I'm feeling very disappointed and upset with this one, and I'm not paying for it either. Hope the boys can salvage this one for their and their crew's sake. Would really hate for this to be the end.

[woahjo]

The People We Became (Bakugou x Reader)

masterlist | ao3

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Summary: Zombie Apocalypse Au.

The world fell apart almost a year ago and you refused to go with it. Left alone and to your own devices in a world full of monsters, where the dead come back to life, you believe that maybe surviving isn't living.

When Katsuki finds you alone in the woods and on the precipice of collapsing from exhaustion, he decides to bring you back to the house his group calls home. Against your better judgement and hesitancy to become attached, you decide to stay. In this world, everyone has lost someone. No soul is spared the violence, and you start sleeping with Bakugou Katsuki to dull the ache. Somehow, peace finds you anyway, but not without sacrifice.

Chapter Content Warnings:  fem!reader, gender neutral pronouns, strangers to lovers, violence typical of zombies, blood, gore, romance, slow-ish burn (for the emotional stuff), angst, kissin', questions of identity, loss, grief, graphic depictions of death and/or violence, mentions and descriptions of starvation/exhaustion typical of an apocalypse setting, very slight implications of possible sexual violence typical of an apocalypse setting, derealization, depersonalization, weapons (guns, blades, and traps), loss of identity

All content warnings can be found on ao3 with the rest of the series.

Word Count: 14.4k — 53k total on ao3

A/N: it's finally done... i'm sweating. i screamed. i cried. i bled. you know the drill. i am posting this a little differently than my other fics and series. only the first chapter will be posted here on tumblr (this post), with the rest of it broken up into chapters and posted on ao3.. purely because it was originally meant as a one shot and i don't like posting chapters on tumblr. it's not built for that and im tired. anyway, im nervous this is my new baby and im pretty sure my soul is somewhere in here. if u read this, pls come tell me what you think.. it fuels me. enjoy, cry, sweat, or whatever else you do when you read. as always, thank you and i love you.

Two hundred and seventy six. It’s been two hundred and seventy six days since the world completely went to shit. You don’t really count the initial outbreak. The initial outbreak was relatively contained once people found out about it. You quarantined. You stayed inside. All it really took were a handful of idiots. Someone selfish. Someone who panicked and ran instead of facing the world honorably, and that was it. It only took days to lose almost every semblance of a normal life and a week to lose everything else. 

The light of your fire is dim, embers burning low as you sit in a foldable chair beside it. The chair is from a friend, someone you’re not with anymore and who went somewhere you couldn’t follow, and you've got a metal spatula in your hand. You're not sure why you grabbed it when you fled, but panic does weird things to the mind. You absentmindedly wonder why you’ve brought it along with you all this time. There’s no logical reason for you to tote the thing around. A friend had told you how strange it was that you thought to toss it into your bag and continue carrying it. This, along with a few other oddities, are all you managed to take from your house when the world fell to ruin. Everything else are things scavenged along the way or from people you'd met, joined, and lost. 

Maybe it’s because the spatula is somewhat normal, like somehow when you cook the game on your makeshift tin over your shitty fire, you can pretend you’re in your kitchen. A smash burger sounds good right now, with grilled onions on a brioche bun like the ones from the place by your apartment. 

The night is near silent and trees creak and crack like the hulls of great ships under heavy pressure, but the birds don't sing and nothing in the crowded wood you're taking shelter in makes a sound. Well, except for you and the gentle crackle of your fire. 

It’s easy to miss the noise that used to irritate you when the world goes quiet. You used to hate the sounds and lights of passing trucks when they’d cross on the street below your apartment window. Now, you’d do anything for the familiar comfort. The world is so dark and quiet, like it’s holding its breath and waiting for this to be over. The silence is almost too much, so loud that it hurts your ears. You huddle closer to the fire, craving its quiet sound. Focusing on it lessens the anxiety of the other noises. The ones you don’t want to hear. 

Your head is on a swivel. It has been for months. Ever since the outbreak, ever since the dead rose and began consuming and infecting the living, you've kept watch. A paranoid, never ending cycle that you suppose—if left on your own—will burn itself out. You swallow thick and return your attention to the fire, watching the tree line just in front of you for any hint of movement or monsters. 

A branch cracks just behind you. A swift sound, followed by rapid footsteps. You stand, quickly turning your head, only to see a figure a few feet away from you. They move quickly and the dancing light of the fire obscures their features from view. Their eyes, most importantly. You can always tell if someone is dead or alive based on their eyes and the sounds that their joints make. In this light, should this stranger have that milky white film over them, you wouldn't be able to tell. 

You make a small noise, something between a whimper and a shout, as the person comes to a stop in front of you and holds a flashlight directly into your face. You squint, panic in your veins as your eyes adjust as best they can to the sudden assault. It takes you a moment to realize that there is a gun pointed directly at your forehead. The living. This person is alive. You're not sure yet if encountering one of the dead would have been worse. 

"Shut up and drop your weapon," he says in a hurried voice. It's aggressive and threatening. It comes from deep in his chest, like somehow fear has gripped and mutilated it into something violent. 

You raise your shaky hands to your head quickly at the order, screwing your eyes shut in the beam of the flashlight. 

"It's not a weapon!" you shout, voice cracking. "It's a spatula. It's a spatula." 

The words are rushed and heavy, fear seizing your chest as you look down the barrel of the gun. The flashlight turns off, sending you back into the dark. Your eyes fight to adjust, catching the firelight that glints off of the barrel, and you begin to makeout the man’s features. He's big, blonde under the grime, you think. A man, not the best thing to encounter alone at night in times like these. 

You see him hesitate for a moment, eyes darting between you and the silver kitchen item in your hand. You drop it quickly, hoping to appeal to his humanity. 

"Do you have a weapon on you?" he questions, voice a little less urgent. 

You shake your head in response and then shakily look beside the chair, choking out the word “ground”. There's a knife there and a pistol with no bullets. You're a poor shot and you had run out of ammo the previous week. He glances at it, the gun still raised at you, and sidesteps to grab the two items. When he does, he cautiously lowers the weapon and you start to lower your trembling hands. 

Then, as if struck by some realization, the man stomps towards the fire and you jump as he does.

"The fuck are you doing lighting a fire this late?" he says angrily, opening the clip of your pistol. "And with no fucking bullets. Those things may be dead, but they can still fuckin' see. That's a good way to get yourself killed." 

He stomps out the fire as he talks, urgently stamping out what's left of the low-burning logs. 

"I didn't think there were many in the area," you justify, furrowing your eyebrows as you step away from him. 

"And that's a risk you want to take?" he says indignantly. You wonder briefly what business he has worrying about you. 

"What do you want?" you snap, "My food? Weapons? Life? What is it?" 

The man scoffs, "Jesus, none of that. I don’t want your shit." 

You narrow your eyes and take a step back. One thing this world has done is remove trust from every chance encounter, and that was already hard enough when the place was sane. 

"Not all people who camp out in the woods are good," he says. "But I sure as shit didn't expect to find someone like you alone lighting a damn fire. Stupid." 

"There were others," you say indignantly, like somehow that makes it better. "Force of habit, I guess." 

The man pauses for a moment as understanding passes between the two of you. It's a relatable feeling. Everyone has lost someone now. 

"Got a name?" he asks. 

You hesitate in giving it to him and the pause causes him to roll his eyes. “You want me to call you Idiot-with-no-bullets instead?” 

You give him your name and the man nods as if he likes the sound of it, turning it over in his head before inhaling. 

"I'm Katsuki," he furrows his eyebrows. "You're alone?" 

You nod, swallowing down the grief that pushes at your throat. 

"Wasn't always," you respond, "but yeah. Now, I am." 

He nods his understanding. 

"Come with me." 

"Where?" you say instinctively, a defensive edge to your voice. Katsuki looks at you as if you’re stupid, or maybe it's pity, like you're a wounded animal. Probably both. 

"Where the fuck do you think?" he retorts. "We've got a camp a little ways from here. I saw your fire from the watch post we have stationed." 

You look at him like he's a little crazy for even thinking to bring you. Kindness, especially the selfless type, is so rare now and you find it difficult to believe that he’s willing to take you there at no cost. 

He scoffs and rolls his head over his shoulder. "Look, we've got men and women," then he pauses. "Used to have children. We're not gonna hurt you. World's gone to shit, do you really wanna keep at it alone?" 

He's probably right. You've been alone for weeks now, exhausted for longer, and though your common sense tells you not to go off with a strange man in this kind of world, the promise of rest is far too tempting. You nod and glance back to your camp. A measly collection of supplies haphazardly put together. You suppose that it doesn’t look so promising. 

"We'll come back for it when it's light," he says. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather not spend longer in these dark ass woods than I have to." 

"Okay," you say. The presence of another person both sets you on edge and makes you feel the press of fatigue even more. A gun's barrel on your nose followed by the promise of safety and you're going with him? You must be stupider than a horror movie protagonist. "Do you take in a lot of strays?" 

Katsuki looks over his shoulder and you think you see him smile a little at the phrase. 

"If that's what you want to call it," he says begrudgingly. Then, with a softer tone of voice, barely noticeable with the quiet whisper you both have been speaking at. "I'm sure the others won't mind one more."

You nod a little and follow him through the wood, stepping over obstacles. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark, but you feel unsteady on your feet. Everything you’ve ever learned about this world tells you that maybe you shouldn’t go with him. What if they’re dangerous? It’s easy to lie about women and children, about a community that doesn’t exist. Or worse, it’s easy to fool yourself that where you are is good, but you don’t know yet if he’s the type to delude himself. He doesn’t seem it. 

The two of you walk for what feels like forever, even if it is only a little over half a mile. Your feet have been aching for days and every step you take feels like a blade into the heel. Katsuki seems steady, his gun secured at his hip and a large knife in his dominant hand. He doesn’t have the flashlight out, but he seems sure-footed and takes every step in stride, as if he’s too heavy to be swayed by any missed step. 

As you move, you can barely make out his back in the white tank top he wears. You use it as a landmark, following the glowing white as it catches the light from the moon. Like chasing a ghost through the trees. 

Then, the wood eases up. The trees grow sparse and the suffocating humidity of the forest eases into a more breathable, open-air breeze. Katsuki steps out into a clearing. It’s relatively small, for how large the world is, but it’s some of the most open space you’ve seen in a while. The feeling of stepping out into the tall grass, where you’re both visible to any wandering thing, sends a rush of fear through you. 

By the edge of the clearing, there’s a small house with a short steeple. It almost looks like a Christian church, but you get the sense that it’s likely a barn. That must be the watchtower and you wonder just how good the view of the forest is from up there if Katsuki managed to see the light of your fire. How many other people had seen your fires over the weeks and not made it out to confront you? How close had you come before to safety or annihilation? 

"Hey!" a girl's voice calls. "He's back!" 

In the near distance, you can see a large and dimly lit house. It looks a little worn down, but soft and hardly noticeable light emanates from it in a way that makes it seem inviting.You can’t make out its exact silhouette and night blurs just how broken-down it is, but you can tell that people live there in the same way you can tell when someone has just left a room. 

Someone runs across the field to you both. It looks like a man and a woman, maybe around Katsuki's age. They move quickly through the tall grass and for a moment, the urgency that they move with frightens you. You worry that your presence will ignite some protective sort of panic. You linger back, letting Katsuki grow a little farther from you as they call out to him. 

“Yeah, yeah," he half-shouts, no longer seeming to care about keeping quiet. Guess that's what happens when there's a group. "I found the fire I mentioned." 

The two come to a stop in front of him, resting their hands on their hips as they catch the breath they lost. 

"We started to get a little worried," says the girl. She's pretty, with big eyes and curly hair that looks like it probably used to be dyed. "You've been gone for a while." 

"Well, I'm back," he says. 

"And you brought a friend," the other man says, sounding shocked. His tone is noticeably kind. The boisterous type of kind and when he smiles, you can see that he has sharp canines. His hair is straight, sticking out in different directions, and tinged with red in this light.

"More like an acquaintance," Katsuki says. “I found them in the woods with a fire and an empty clip. Felt like their blood would be on my hands if I didn’t bring them back.” The red-haired man gives him a telling look and Katsuki scoffs in response and turns to the girl. "Get them settled, Mina, will you?" The girl called Mina nods and Katsuki takes off toward the house without another word. 

"You're lucky," she says, pausing when you flinch as she steps closer. "You're gettin' the last solo room in the place. Kirishima, is it set up?" 

Kirishima shrugs his shoulders. "You'd have to ask Izuku. He'd know all about that, but I can go check." 

Mina shakes her head and turns her attention to you, giving you a quick once over with her eyebrows pulled together.

"You must be tired.” 

When you nod, she gives you an empathetic smile and motions for you to come with her. "We'll fix that. You hungry?" 

"What do you think?" you manage, saliva pooling in your mouth. "Do you have food?" 

"Plenty," she smiles. "not quite enough for leftovers just yet though, don’t tell anyone." 

You smile awkwardly. Who on earth would you tell? 

"Sounds like a good deal," you say. 

You follow Mina up to the house. Around it, there are a few parked cars. They look like they could pull out at any moment, and through the dust covered windows, you can just make out supplies in the back seats as you pass. In the distance, you can see the fuzzy silhouette of the barn you’d assumed was a watchtower in the dark of the field and you figure that maybe it used to be a place to keep livestock. 

Mina doesn't say much to you as you pass through the field, and when you walk into the door, the first thing you notice is a large group of people seated at a dining table. They all look up at you when you enter and it's with a bit of shock that you register their faces as healthy. Well, healthier. These people live well. Something stirs in your chest, both anxiety and excitement at the thought of possibly having found somewhere safe. They blink at you for a moment, exchanging looks that all end up landing on Katsuki. 

"This is the group. Well, most of us," Mina says pleasantly and with a light huff. "That's Izuku, Denki, Ochako, Sero, and you already know the handsome guy on the end there. Kiri's probably checking to see if the room is half decent.." They all greet you with a glad murmur. "Group, this is..." 

She looks at you expectantly. When you tell them your name, you can't help but look at Katsuki who already knows it. He raises his eyebrows unconsciously and turns his attention to the glass in front of him. 

There’s an awkward pause as you stand in the doorway, suddenly conscious of just how dirty you must look. Remnants of an older world, you suppose. No one really worries about things like that anymore.

“Uhm…” you search for something to say, but your people skills seem to have left you. 

“You’re okay,” Mina says lightly. “Plenty of time to get to know you when you’ve rested and had something to eat.” 

Mina sits you down at a chair that she pulls in from the other room. It doesn't match the other ones in the dining room, but you suppose no one is really thinking of the decor in their house anymore. It's only now that you realize the house has electricity.

"You have power?" you say incredulously, looking at the center light in the dining room on its low setting. 

"Mhm," Mina hums as she sits down next to you and spoons a helping of vegetables onto your plate. "It's got a generator. We got lucky finding this place. I don't think many of us would be alive if we hadn't." 

Those listening in the group nod their affirmation. 

"It draws from well water too," she adds. "With the right care, the place practically runs on its own. Hard work but what isn't nowadays?" 

“Like you do any of the heavy lifting," Sero scoffs across from her.

"That's not fair," Katsuki adds with a slick smirk, "you know damn well none of our vegetables would be so well socialized if she didn't use them like a damn diary all day." 

The group laughs a little and Mina rolls her eyes and sits back in the chair. You avoid looking at anyone, shoveling the food into your mouth. You’re salivating an almost embarrassing amount, struggling to eat at a normal pace. There’s something about food cooked inside, about the way food tastes when you can smell it wafting in from the kitchen. 

"Don't worry," she turns to you, as if you’re at all concerned with the implication that she doesn’t do much work, "they know we’d hardly have vegetables at all if it weren't my job to tend them. I used to garden quite a bit before all of this." 

Sero tosses her a sideways glance and you get the sense that maybe it isn’t just her doing it. 

"Mina does a lot of the garden stuff," Ochako pitches in, her voice hesitant. "We all sort of just do what we can." 

You can’t really keep up with the conversation and instead just blink at her for a moment before turning back to your food. Maybe that’s rude, but you don’t have the energy to consider it. There’s food in front of you. Food that doesn’t taste like it’s been poorly slaughtered or rotting in a cabinet for months. 

The group at the table with you shifts back into what you feel is their normal conversation and you watch them through your peripheral. You can’t relax yet, maybe you never will. Always on watch with your guard up. 

They pass the dishes around the table, plates going from hand to hand over mismatched sets of silverware. The action feels strange to you. Your chest squeezes at the thought. Just a few weeks ago, you’d done this around a fire with the people you loved. You’d passed a too-hot-to-touch pot around a circle of friends, laughing quietly at the little moments of joy you could find. It feels far away now and jealousy rouses beside hope as you sit. 

“So, where did you come from?” Izuku at the end of the table asks. 

It takes you a moment to realize that he’s talking to you and there’s an edge to his voice that has everyone at the table sitting up with curiosity. You stare at him for a moment, exhausted and defeated and unable to muster the words. 

“Leave them be,” Katsuki says, looking up from his plate. “They just got here. They’re probably freaked out.” 

The table goes a little quiet, a hush falling over it. You look around as glances are exchanged before Mina stands up quickly and quietly claps her hands together. 

“I think,” she says with an awkward laugh, “it may be time for bed.” 

Mina turns to you. “I’ll show you where you can sleep.” 

You nod, standing up and turning to the group with furrowed eyebrows. You want to thank them, to tell them that you’re grateful for the meal and their kindness, but the words don’t come. Instead, you meet Katsuki’s gaze, grateful for the intervention, but suspicious at such forthcoming kindness. He scoffs a little and turns away. 

—

“It’s just up here,” Mina says as she guides you through the house.

You pass rooms with their doors ajar. They are lived in, with unmade beds and glasses of clean water on nightstands. It’s like something out of a life gone by, with a few less amenities. You can imagine a family moving through this house. Girls in school uniforms calling through the halls about a stolen hair clip. Now, you picture these people doing that. Living and not just surviving.

“The bathroom is across the hall,” she says. “You can take a shower if you want. I’ll leave a towel and some clothes in there just in case.”  

You nod. 

“No worries if you don’t,” Mina adds in a whisper. “When I first met everyone, I didn’t undress to bathe for days so… take your time. We won’t be offended.” 

She shuts the door behind her when she leaves and you stumble back onto the bed, shocked by just how soft it feels after spending weeks on the floor. It’s not much, but it’s nicer than anything you’ve experienced in the last nine months, and there's a working shower. You haven’t had a shower since everything fell apart and the layer of grime on your skin is so thick that you can feel it. You haven’t felt safe enough to properly wash since you’d lost the rest of your group, only stopping to rinse your body in streams you pass if the thought occurred to you. The idea of running water and a shower is near euphoric. 

You probably shouldn’t. It may not be wise to shower tonight. You still don’t know these people or what they’re capable of, but the temptation of being clean is too great and as soon as you hear Mina close the bathroom door and walk away, you hurry across the hall on the balls of your feet. 

The bathroom looks old and the sink is white porcelain, eggshell now with a lack of care. The shower has a bathtub in it and though it’s cloudy, there’s a mirror over the sink where you catch the first clear glimpse you’ve had of yourself in weeks. 

You don’t know who you’re looking at. The person in the mirror is nearly unrecognizable. Their eyes are wide and frightened, wild like an animal’s, and their face is covered in a layer of grime that looks like it can never be washed out. Their hair is unruly, sticking out in some areas and matted down with blood in others. This is a person you’ve never seen or met before. Someone you would have avoided only a year ago if you’d ever encountered them. 

You reach up to touch your face, running your hand over the dried blood that has made a home on the underside of your jaw. How long has it been there? Have you always looked so unwell? So sick in mind and body? The promise of a shower grows unbearably pleasant. 

The knob squeaks when you turn it, screeching as the pipes hum and clang to life. Water spits out in a few bursts before raining down from the faucet and hitting the back of the tub in a steady thrum. It sounds a little bit like music to you, constant and heavy, and it gives the impression of normalcy as you begin undressing. 

The fabric of your clothes sticks to your skin, peeling from your body in an unbearable and disgusting way. You don’t look at your body in the mirror. In fact, you avoid it entirely. Not recognizing your face was enough, but your body—a part of yourself you never really recognized—would drive you over the edge. 

Then, you pull the shower curtain back and stick your hand under the water, stepping into it fully with a deep sigh. The water is lukewarm. They probably turned off the heater to conserve power and allow the main generator to function for longer. That’s fine. Beggars can’t be choosers and everyone is a beggar nowadays. Besides, it’s warm enough outside that the water isn’t too cold as it is. In the winter, you probably wouldn’t be able to shower and the pipes might freeze entirely until the following spring. 

There’s a normalcy that you settle into as you wash your body. You return to muscle memory, running your hands over your skin and scrubbing the grime out. It’s simultaneously like the first shower of your life and as if you’ve been doing it every day. You return to a state of pleasant, familiar humanity as you wash away dirt that has built up for weeks. You feel as it pours off of you, see it run down your body onto the porcelain of the tub and swirl down the drain. It’s dirt and dried blood that has been caked onto your skin. You worry that even after washing, it will leave a permanent mark. 

The person in the mirror when you get out of the shower is in stark contrast to the person who went into it. They’re someone that you recognize. You could almost convince yourself that nothing ever changed. Your water-soaked skin is so familiar to you, that you could be getting out of the shower and dressing to go to work. If it weren’t for the look in your eyes, you could have fooled yourself. Something undefinable has changed in you, something that you will carry with you forever. You glance at yourself in the foggy mirror and think that there is no going back. 

The house is quiet when you dry yourself and open the bathroom door. You step across the hall on the balls of your feet, careful not to make any noise, and when you push the bedroom door open, you do a visual sweep to make sure that it’s safe out of habit. 

Your body is exhausted. You are so thoroughly tired that you think you could collapse at any moment, but when you sit down on the bed in your fresh clothes, you find yourself restless. This place is new to you and you’re unsure if the safe feeling is your mind playing desperate tricks on you or the real thing. The lamp by your bed is on, casting a yellow glow across the bedsheets and the dark wood furniture. Come to think of it, you didn’t get a good look at the house when you came in and the thought starts to bother you as you stare at the closed door to the hallway. 

Someone could be behind it. They could be waiting for you to lay down, to sleep, before doing something awful. You almost feel guilty for thinking this way about them. They’ve fed you, given you a shower, given you fresh clothes. Luxuries you weren’t sure even existed anymore, yet you’re sitting here doubting them, wishing you had your pistol or knife.

The bedroom door creaks as you open it. You wince, nervous that you’ve disturbed the quiet peace of the house and that everything will come crashing down as quickly as it seemed to come together. The hallway is dark, save for some light coming from under two doors at the end of the hall. One of them turns out as you creep past it to the stairs, and you hear the distinct sound of box springs squeaking as someone crawls into bed. You let go of the breath you’d been holding, straightening up as you relax into the late-night environment. 

The house looks old even from the inside. It gives the impression of having once been dirty and in near disrepair. There are dust stains and dull spots that no amount of scrubbing could get out. You can almost picture how this place may have looked when they found it and it’s entirely possible that it had been abandoned before the actual outbreak. Someone run out of their home for lack of money. What a trivial thing now. 

The stairs are sturdy, probably held together so well by the foundation of the house, and they’re made of dark wood. They’re steep too, the kind that a baby or old person might trip over, and you hold the railing to calm the shaking of your legs as you slowly feel your way down. You can see the light on in the kitchen from around the corner, spreading out onto the floor of the old fashioned drawing room. Dishes clink in the kitchen, like someone is washing them, and you jump a little at the noise as you creep around the corner. 

Kirishima is standing at the sink with his back to you, whispering something to someone beside him. The expanse of his back is broad, moving every time he goes to run his hand over the dish in front of him. Then, he turns to look at you and you see Mina pop her head around the corner. 

“Oh,” Kiri says, “did you need something?” 

You shake your head. “Not really, I just couldn’t sleep.” 

Kiri nods sympathetically as if he knows the feeling. “Well, you look like you feel a little better at least.” 

You pad over to where he’s doing the dishes and Mina offers you a soft smile and a knowing look. It all seems so normal. Doing the dishes, whispering quietly as they do. Something about it screams a kind of humanity you haven’t experienced in a long while, even with your last group. 

“Are you sure we can’t get you something?” Mina says, furrowing her brows. 

“Why are you all being so nice to me?” You ask. “You don’t know the first thing about me.” 

“Is there some reason why we shouldn’t be nice to you?” Kiri says over his shoulder. 

“No,” you shake your head. “I just think it’s reckless, that’s all. I could have been anyone.” 

Kirishima and Mina exchange a look. They glance at each other, like they’re debating on saying something, and then Kiri turns and rests his palms on the back of the sink. He looks at Mina. 

“We don’t usually decide to do this so quickly,” she admits. “We’re friendly, but nobody’s that friendly anymore.” 

Kiri nods his agreement and you listen quietly, trying to determine if they plan to toss you back out into the woods in the morning. 

“But, Katsuki doesn’t usually bring people in,” she continues. 

“He’s a little more closed off than the rest of us,” Kirishima adds. “He’s a good guy, just takes a while to warm up, is all.” 

“Mhm,” Mina says. 

“What does that have to do with me?” you ask. “This is nice and all, but I’m sure you get why I’m wary.” 

“He’s a good judge of character,” Kiri adds earnestly. “He doesn’t bring people in often, but when he does, he’s usually right.” 

You nod, not quite understanding. Sure, you don’t plan to do anything terrible. In fact, you’re content to accept their kindness and stay, if they’d let you. Anything is better than being alone, but their blind trust in one man’s judgment of character makes you uneasy. 

“He was alone for a really long time,” Mina adds. “A lot of us were. I got lucky meeting Kirishima early on, but Katsuki’s luck was a little less fortuitous.” 

“So you all just… happened upon each other by chance?” You ask. 

“Yeah, pretty much,” Mina says. “It was me and Kiri for a long time. Just the two of us. We’d found Izuku and Katsuki together a while later, but they didn’t seem to like each other all that much. We still haven’t really figured that out, especially because they’re so close now. Ochako and Sero ended up cornered together by accident. We found them just before we found this place, and Denki just sort of showed up here one day and promised to fix the generator in exchange for safety. That was months ago. We’ve been like this since.”

“So you’re all strays,” you say and Mina laughs a little and looks at Kiri. 

“Sure,” she says. “We’re all strays. There were others too. Shoji. Jirou. She was Denki’s girlfriend.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say with a frown. It feels pointless to apologize for the dead, if you get caught up in it, you’d be apologizing forever. 

“Don’t be,” Kiri adds. “But best not to bring her up. It was pretty recent and Denki’s only just started to get over it.” 

You swallow thick and nod a little. 

“Anyway,” Mina says, “we can’t really explain it. We just trust him. We trust Katsuki. That’s all.” 

“Hm,” you hum, understanding that to a degree. 

You trusted the people in your group. If they believed in someone, you were willing to as well, so you suppose you can understand a little where they’re coming from. 

“What are you talking about,” Katsuki rounds the corner, walking into the kitchen and putting his water bottle under the sink. 

“Nothing really,” Mina says. 

Katsuki furrows his eyebrows and then looks at you. He gives you a once over, taking in your new clothing before scoffing lightly. 

“Don’t you look cozy,” he says. “You get settled?” 

“When can I go get my stuff?” You ask. 

“Someone’s eager,” he says through lightly gritted teeth. “Didn’t I tell ya we could go in the morning? Besides, what’s there really to miss in that lot of junk?” 

“Katsuki!” Mina quietly chides. 

“I have things I care about there,” you say. “Things I’m not ready to lose.” 

Katsuki blinks at you for a second before swearing under his breath. “We’ll leave when you get up in the morning.” 

“You don’t have to come with me,” you say, frowning a bit at his sour attitude. 

“Like hell,” he scoffs. “What if the dead are waiting back there for you?” 

“I made it this far on my own,” you respond. 

Katsuki nods for a second. “I’m going. Come find me in the morning.” 

He walks off and around the corner. You hear him go up the stairs, followed by the distinct click of a bedroom door shutting. 

“Don’t pay too much attention to that,” Mina says. “It’s past his bedtime.” 

“You’ll get used to him,” Kiri adds. 

“Right,” you say, swallowing down your frustration in favor of trying to be appreciative of the help. You sway on your feet a little and then steady yourself. “I’m going to go to sleep. Thank you for the meal and the bed.” 

Mina and Kiri nod, but you don’t stick around to hear a response. Fatigue creeps up on you. It ambushes your senses and you go from feeling dream-like to delusional in a matter of moments. You make your way up the stairs, your body feeling heavy as lead, and wobble your way into the bedroom they’re letting you stay in. 

When your head hits the pillow, you’re out. The world around you fades to dark and just before you sleep, you swear that you can hear the sounds of cars passing on the highway. A busy night, Saturday maybe, and people go about their daily lives outside of the window the way that they always have. They live, never the wiser to just how quickly things fall apart and how little it takes for our humanity to leave us. 

— 

Mornings in this place are boisterous. The sun coming through the lone window in your room wakes you up and you can hear the calls of busy people getting to work outside. There are voices from the porch out front that your window looks over and though you can’t see them, you get the sense that they’re having a pleasant conversation. 

As you rouse, you come to the realization of just how exhausted you’d really been. They probably saved your life by bringing you to this place, feeding you, and offering you a bed. In hindsight, it’s easy to see just how little you had left in you. You get the sense now that you’d been running on an empty tank for days, slowly coming to an inglorious, gruesome, sputtering stop. 

Things seem a little clearer, like the sunlight is somehow less bleak than it had been the days previous and you feel a little bit like you have a new lease on life. There are no big emotions, no swells of hope or humanity just yet, and you dread the moment you are rested enough to let grief consume you. Right now, you can’t feel it, but there is a fear in you that as you get to know these people who live relatively beautifully in an ugly world, it will weigh you down so much that you’ll never be able to outrun it. 

You wonder if they’ll let you stay. They very well may not, even with the way they were talking last night. Strangers are more dangerous than they’ve ever been and if they ask you whether or not you’ve killed someone, you refuse to lie to them. Sitting up on the bed, you mull over the very real possibility that you could be back out there on your own again in a matter of days and you don’t even have that many good acts under your belt to plead your case. You’re just a person and you’ve done what you needed to in order to survive. Now, you’re not sure if that’s enough. 

You swallow thick, wandering over to the mirror on the dresser. It’s fogged, though less than the bathroom mirror, and you can make out your features a little better than you could last night. You feel a bit more sane, though you still don’t recognize the frightful and distrustful look in your eyes. Like a wounded animal. Inside your head, you acknowledge that you are completely different from the person you were two hundred and seventy seven days ago. 

The voices grow louder as you climb down the stairs, more secure on your feet than you felt last night. You can hear them talking about the generator, as well as a name you don’t recognize. 

“He should be back by now,” a woman says. “Shoto’s never gone longer than a day or two, max.” 

“We shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” another woman says with a worried bite in her voice. Mina, maybe? “We’re only a few hours into the day. He probably got holed up somewhere.” 

“Someone needs to go look for him,” a man says.

“And what? Risk getting yourself killed?” the first woman says. “No, it doesn’t make sense. We need you here.” 

“You’d rather we leave him to die on his own?” 

“No one’s fuckin’ dying.” 

You recognize Katsuki’s voice. 

“He’s perfectly capable of going on a gasoline run,” he continues. “He’s done it before.” 

“I should have gone with him,” says the same woman. 

“On that leg? You wouldn’t have made it halfway to town, let alone there and back,” his voice raises a little. “Don’t be stupid. He’ll be back.” 

You clear your throat and step around the corner. The group turns to face you quickly at the sound, their eyes wide for a moment before relaxing. You can’t sneak up on anyone nowadays. 

“Sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Is everything okay?” 

It’s not your business, but you ask anyway, wondering for yourself about the safety of Shoto. 

“Fine,” Izuku says, shaking his head. You recognize him to be the one who'd vouched for going after their friend. Katsuki takes a step away from the broad man as he says this. “Nothing for you to worry about. Did you rest?” 

Izuku smiles gently at you, his chest inflating a little at the question. The movement broadens his shoulders and you realize that he stands almost a head taller than Katsuki. You look briefly between the two of them before nodding. 

“I did,” you say. “Thank you.” 

“Nothing wrong with a little hospitality now and then,” he smiles and you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows at the distinct hesitance in his voice. 

“I don’t think we’ve met,” the woman standing across from Izuku says. “I’m Momo. Sorry I wasn’t there to meet you last night. I’ve been a little under the weather.” 

You introduce yourself to her and glance down at her leg. Her ankle is swollen and wrapped in a bandage. Her sneaker laces are untied at the top to make room for the swelling and you can see that she’s guarding that side of her leg. 

“Is it…?” you grimace, taking an instinctive step away from her. You almost feel bad for it, but sometimes good people make bad decisions when loved ones get bit. 

“No,” she says quickly, “no, it isn’t. Caught an edge in an old chain link fence on the property a couple days back.” 

Momo smiles slightly at you as if to reassure you. She’s really beautiful, with thick dark hair pulled back into a somewhat messy ponytail. Her eyes are bright, like she’s engaged in lively conversation, and you find yourself feeling a little sad for her. She’ll need medicine soon, if they can get it. Infections set in easily these days and you get the sense that even she knows that she may not have long without it. Maybe that’s something else their friend Shoto set out to find. 

“I assume you’ll be wanting to go get your supplies?” Katsuki says, cutting the conversation short. Maybe he could sense the sour turn of thoughts. 

“Ready when you are,” you respond with a nod. 

Katsuki glances at Izuku, who gives him a slightly disapproving look. 

“Someone get them something to eat,” Katsuki says. “...I’ll get my shit ready.” 

“Fig jam…” Mina mumbles as she motions for you to follow her to the kitchen. 

You oblige her, not exactly jumping to turn down a meal. She walks you into the kitchen and opens up a cabinet, where she pulls out a jar filled with a dark and seed filled paste. It’s a jam, sealed in a jar that looks older than what’s inside of it. The seal breaks open with a pleasant pop. 

“This stuff is so good,” she says to you over her shoulder, pulling out a package of crackers that have likely gone stale. “You won’t believe it.” 

She spreads the jam on a few crackers and sets it in front of you on a plate, pushing it across the counter towards you. 

“It’s fig jam,” she says with a smile. “Homemade.” 

You look down at the plate, your mouth watering at the prospect of something sweet like this. It’s been so long since you've had fresh jam. It could be as long as 10 years. You don’t think you’ve had it since you were a kid, when jam came easily and you preferred the processed brands at the supermarket to the ones your mom used to make sometimes. 

You raise the cracker to your mouth and stuff it in with little grace. The sweetness spreads across your tongue as soon as you bite into the stale cracker. It fizzes and pops almost, the sugar melting across your tongue as the seeds crack softly between your teeth. The smile that hits your face is completely involuntary and though you know that nine months ago, this jam wouldn’t have been much, today it is something extraordinary. 

Mina nods a kind of girlish agreement, like the way people used to when they had their friend try something at their favorite restaurant. 

“We got here in the fall. I want to say late October or early November?” she offers. “We were starving and there wasn’t enough food to feed all of us. By that time there were like… nine of us.” 

You listen as you eat your crackers. 

“This place was in such an awful state,” she laughs. “I mean, really terrible. But, it was big and there was a fig tree in the back. A little thing, probably only a few years old and it had fruit on it. We ate so many of them that if the world were normal, we’d have sworn off of them forever. When we realized that the house actually had some old food in it,” she interrupts herself “-nothing good, canned stuff mostly- we decided to jar up the rest of the figs so that they didn’t rot.” 

She smiles at you like it’s a pleasant memory, but you can only think about how hungry they must have been. Your stomach growls as you eat. 

“I know it doesn’t sound like much,” she says, “but for some reason it’s a really nice memory. Honestly, we’re lucky we didn’t die.” 

Mina laughs a little. 

“I mean,” she continues, “we didn’t even clear the area before we started pulling at the figs and throwing them into our mouths.” 

You tilt your head at her and furrow your eyebrows with a small smile. 

“You’re really forthcoming with information.” 

“You just seem a little hesitant, is all,” she answers. 

“Can you blame me?” 

Mina shrugs her shoulders but doesn’t really offer an answer. You assume it’s because she can’t, because Mina has the same doubts everyone carries with them in this world. All of the what ifs people would think about before they slept have become more prevalent than anyone would have ever liked. 

“The jam is good,” you say, trying to be friendly in the same way she is. “Even if it is months old.” 

“Things keep well in jars,” Mina defends softly, smiling a little as she gets another out of you. 

This place feels like a little slice of paradise. A blessing from whoever lived here before and kept a garden stocked with vegetables. From someone who lived in an old house with stables and well-water, who kept canned food past its expiration date. It feels almost too good to be true, like these people live in a bubble bound to pop. 

“You ready?” Katsuki thuds into the kitchen with an empty backpack slung over his shoulder. 

You turn, startled by his sudden appearance and nod as you quickly finish chewing the last cracker. Katsuki furrows his eyebrows as he watches the way you scarf it down. 

When you stand from the table, Katsuki turns on his heel to make for the front door and you follow with a light step. Mina says something about staying safe, but you don’t respond, glancing once over your shoulder at the girl. 

It’s strange, the world has made you wishy-washy and uncommitted. You never used to be like that, never so distrusting as to second guess someone’s kindness the moment your back is turned to them, and you’re certainly not the type to be friendly one moment and closed off the next. Now though, you find that doubt creeps in easily through cracks and any foundation that didn’t exist before, seems to be swallowed before you can finish building it. 

Katsuki leads you back across the small clearing you’d come through the night before. It looks different in the day, almost romantic, and it lacks any of the ominous feeling it had the previous evening. He steps over mounds in the dirt from moles and gophers that have made lawns their new home and you try to mimic his steps, sinking occasionally into a particularly soft patch of dirt. Every now and then, Katsuki glances behind him to check that you’re still there and you offer him a forced smile that he never returns.

You catch up to him when you hit the trees, sticking close at his side like something will come and take you away if you’re not. It’s unintentional, but you don’t have a weapon on you. Your knife is back at your makeshift camp, along with the unloaded pistol and your trusty spatula. 

“How do you know where we’re going?” You ask in a whisper. 

Katsuki tosses a look at you over his shoulder. “I’m good with directions.” 

His tone is clipped, like he’s pissed about something, and your expression sours at it. Sure, you get it but it irritates you to some small degree. You hadn’t asked him to come along. In fact, you’d have been fine getting back here to collect your stuff on your own. You’d have asked for a knife and set out without a second thought, if only because being alone in the woods with some guy was less preferable than doing it by yourself. Of course, some guy also probably saved your life, but you’re not quite ready to relinquish your trust completely. 

“Thanks for coming,” you decide. A peace offering. 

Katsuki doesn’t answer and you furrow your brows a little bit. You wonder if he’s always been like this or if the end of the world brought on the loss of his manners. 

Then, he stops, taking you by the arm and pulling you down beside a bush. You gasp and he puts his hand over your mouth to silence you. There’s the urge to bite him, to catch the fleshy bit connecting his thumb and pointer finger between your teeth and bite down till he bleeds, but you stop when you catch what he’s looking at. 

Two of the living dead crouch by a tree, clicking their tongues as they eat something just out of sight. You furrow your eyebrows, eyes widening at the horror of it. For some reason, seeing them always brings about a round of momentary shock. You’ve yet to let go of the hounding thought that they used to be people and sometimes have to reorient yourself to the world you’re in now. 

You catch Katsuki’s eye behind you, his calloused hand still clasped over your mouth, and nod your head. It’s a silent communication that you’ve seen what he has and he removes his palm from your face to grab a knife tucked into his belt, passing it to you quickly. 

The two infected haven’t noticed the two of you yet, but they will soon, if only by the smell of your flesh which has yet to rot. You hear Katsuki let out a breath, as if to calm his heart, and do the same. There’s time to look at them like this and you’re struck by how human you can pretend they are in your head. Well, you suppose they were human once, now they’re a disease using someone’s skin as a mask. 

Infected people aren’t quick, that’s one thing to be grateful for. Back when the outbreak first started, the CDC had released information on what to look out for in those who might have contracted the virus. The first was obviously a bite wound from another infected person, but you can tell from other symptoms. Early symptoms are average. Body aches, fever, lethargy, and delirium. All things you might see with a nasty flu. Then, infection of the wound site, twitching, foggy eyes—like low-grade cataracts—that develop within a matter of hours or days, severe disorientation, aversion to food, insomnia, with the final symptom being a coma that no one ever wakes up as themselves from. 

These are the symptoms that people are conscious for. The ones they feel. The sickness that people tried to nurse others back from. There is no coming back though, not alive at the very least. The virus attacks the nerves throughout the brain and body, that’s what causes the twitching and convulsions. It’s what ultimately kills us, and it's what they think causes the bodies to come back. 

Most infected will crack when they move. It’s the cartilage breaking down as the bones grind together and crack as they’re weakened from the marrow out. They twitch like rabid animals, unable to keep masterful control of their bodies because they are run like puppets from the brain stem. You don’t know if they think. If somehow the people they used to be are still in there, unable to stop themselves from consuming and spreading the virus to others. All you really know is that they twitch and click, functions of the brain that still remain. Tiny impulses sent through the synapses. You imagine it to be like the way you twitch when you sleep, an arm here or a leg there, the way someone might call out with their voice to a room with no one in it. 

Maybe the infected think they’re dreaming. A nightmare that they never wake up from, like those of us who have to put them down. You could see it as a mercy from that perspective. You have an easier time rationalizing putting a knife in someone’s skull if you convince yourself that they’re silently begging for it. 

Katsuki shifts his weight and looks at you. He mouths the words no guns and you nod, briefly wondering where the fuck he thinks you could have gotten a gun from. 

Then, you kick off and run with Katsuki towards the infected. They don’t really have time to begin moving towards you both. You’re faster than them, but you hear the crack of their legs as they stand from their crouched positions, pulled in at the idea of their next meal.

Katsuki takes the farther one, sinking the knife into the soft spot of its temple with relative ease. You switch yourself off and take the one closest only a few moments later, sending your blade through the top of its skull. That happens to you when you have to do this. You turn yourself off for a bit, just so that you don’t have to remember the way it feels to hit the soft part of someone’s brain. You didn’t used to do that, only starting when you realized that there’s no going through this world anymore without it. 

Katsuki wipes the blood on his pants. It’s brown, no longer oxygenated, and the area around you begins to reek. You notice, but for some reason the smell of decomposition doesn’t register in your brain and you continue on behind him. 

There are a few beats of silence, save for twigs breaking under your feet, before Katsuki speaks up. 

“You okay?” It’s barely above a whisper and you wouldn’t have caught it were you not listening for the distinctive crack of human bones. 

“Yeah,” you say, continuing forward. 

The campsite rounds into view and in this light, with your full night’s sleep under your belt, you can see just how pitiful it looks. A tent that you’d hastily put up before nightfall, the remains of your stamped out fire, the folding chair which has since been knocked over, and your weapons on the floor covered by a few leaves disturbed by the wind. 

You snatch them up and move to grab your backpack out of the tent. The inside is shitty too and your torn sleeping bag hadn’t even been rolled out yet. You pick up the bag, returning to the folding chair as Katsuki begins to take down the tent. The polyester and nylon blend zips together as he makes quick work of folding it. Then, he kicks some dry brush over the remains of the fire, like he’s covering your tracks. 

“The next person that comes through here might not be alone,” he says plainly. “And they may have more bullets than you did.” 

“Right,” you respond. Your voice sounds a little far off and you settle your backpack on your shoulder in one quick motion. 

“Got everything?” 

You nod, following him as he heads out in the direction you both came from. The two of you pass the bodies of the infected you’d killed. The smell has permeated the air, lingering like how it does in cities, only less pungent. Their fogged eyes stare blankly at nothing, expressions plain and unreadable. You pass and try not to think much about it. 

Katsuki is a few feet ahead of you and he doesn’t glance back to make sure you’re following. You could leave now and never get attached to these people. You could head off in another direction and never have to think twice about it. No more worrying about who you could lose, about who’s next to become one of the sick masses. Just you by yourself. Then, when you finally kick the can, someone else can put you down the way you did to those strangers. 

Is there really a point to it anymore? To community or living in general. No one is as they once were. Does that make it fantasy to live in their beautiful bubble? Could you even find it in yourself to pretend again, to make nice and play house in that place? They saved your life, sure. They fed you, clothed you, bathed you, but for what point? Tomorrow, you could end up back in the woods, lighting fires with twigs you found in the brush, paranoid that someone would find you or the fire would spread. 

You watch Katsuki’s back as he moves, shoulders shifting with each step. His shirt is stained, white turned eggshell from the wear and tear of time. It seems so off to you that he looks relatively clean, like he lives well. 

Fear strikes you as you realize that your rambling thoughts have merit. Anything you fear now has become real and loss is so tangible to you that you can squeeze it in your hand. They could turn you out. Tomorrow night you could begin the starve and step all over again, moving from place to place, talking to yourself, filling your hours with paranoid thoughts like these that plague you when you’re alone. Is that worse than loss? If you’re alone long enough, you’d probably forget what you’re missing. Losing anyone else could make the wound fresh. For now, the hunger wins out. 

Katsuki jogs ahead of you to get to the house. Momo is on the porch waving him in and he hurries up the steps and bursts through the front door. As you approach, you can hear voices, some of which are relieved, others hurried. When you enter the room, you find a man standing there whom you’ve never seen before, Shoto maybe. 

“A plus one,” the man looks up, tilting his head at you in an odd way. 

“Katsuki’s,” Kiri says with a low smirk. 

Shoto’s eyes widen as he peers at his friend, clutching what looks like an injured shoulder. Katsuki just huffs his irritation. 

“Well, that’s rare,” Shoto says. 

“What’s rare?” Katsuki spits. “They were in the woods with a fire. What was I supposed to do? Let ‘em die?” 

“Maybe,” Shoto says, a light smile creeping onto his features. Then, he turns to you. “What’s your name?” 

You give it to him and he nods his head, tilting it at you again. 

“How long are you staying?”

You’re not sure how to answer that question. In fact, no one is, and it feels like more of a test than it does a genuine inquiry. Kiri and Mina exchange a glance and Katsuki tosses a somewhat dirty look towards Shoto. Ochako gives Shoto a knowing glance and Sero and Denki shift uncomfortably on their feet. Then, Momo clears her throat, spurring Izuku to say something. 

“Shoto,” he says. “You’re probably hungry, you should eat something and lay down. Ochako? Could you take a look at his shoulder?” 

“Sure,” the girl says softly, giving a closed mouth smile to Shoto as she takes him by the arm. 

She glances at you as she passes, almost like she’s too embarrassed to look at you fully in the face. You suppose this is what happens when people are forced to think about whether or not they will potentially leave someone else to die. It’s like the trolley cart question and though in this case there is always the possibility of a better outcome, it’s not likely in this world. 

“Just until I’m rested,” you add with a small tilt of your head. “A few days.” 

Shoto looks at you over his shoulder and gives you a small smile. It’s funny, you can see kindness there. His actions aren’t kind, but you can feel that he has kindness in him, though his rudeness stems from something different than Katsuki’s, you think. Like he’s strange in some way. 

“I’ll start on dinner,” Sero says. “Kiri, give me a hand.” 

The group disperses and you head upstairs without speaking to anyone else. A few days to rest and then cut the first people you’ve spoken to in weeks loose. What sort of idiot gives up something like this to avoid a little awkwardness? Not that you necessarily had your mind made up. You wonder briefly if you’ve just sealed your own tomb. 

—

After dinner, you go upstairs to sleep after eating as much as they would offer you. Your stomach has ceased its constant growling and the shakiness that comes with hunger has receded almost entirely into the background. The bed is soft, with a slight dent in it from whoever slept in here before. The thought unsettles you that they’re probably dead now, but you try to push it from your mind as you steel yourself for what comes within the next few days. 

You had volunteered yourself to leave. To what? Save yourself the embarrassment of pleading? Did you even want to plead? Why are you regretting not asking to stay? These people don’t know you, what trust can you have built with them in only a few days? Your skin crawls at the expanse of possibilities in front of you after so many weeks without any. 

You think that if you let yourself walk away, you’ll probably die. You’re out of bullets and don’t know where to find any food except by luck. You can try to catch prey, but prey hides whenever infected are around, and they’re everywhere nowadays. It’s spring, water wouldn’t be a problem, but running water has its clear comforts. Then, there’s the possibility of loss. You’d come to care for these people if you stayed, you know it. 

You furrow your eyebrows and look at the ceiling. There’s really no choice to be made. You’ll let them make it for you, even if you don’t know them. It’s their house and you won’t walk in uninvited or try to take it. You’re not about to become a monster just because the world is full of them now.

The darkness grows and your eyes drift to the dim light wandering in under the crack of the door. Hushed voices whisper in the living room, you can hear them. It’s a heated discussion, lively, but deliberately quiet. It’s been hours since everyone went to bed, yet you get the impression that many people are chiming in. You’re too nosey to leave it be. 

You open the bedroom door silently, turning the cool knob with a wince as it clicks out of place. When you peer into the hallway, every upstairs bedroom door is open with the room empty. The light is coming from down stairs and around the corner, and you can see shadows move as you inch closer to the source. 

You pause at the top of the stairs, knowing that they creak, and crouch by the bannister to listen. You’re out of sight. The only way they’d know you’re listening is if you made a sound, but you won’t. You’re good at being quiet. 

“We don’t even know them,” someone says in a rushed whisper. “We don’t know what they’ve done before.” 

“Everyone’s done things they’re not proud of now, Shoto,” a woman adds. It’s Mina. She’s spoken enough to you that you recognize her voice. 

“I agree with Shoto,” says another woman, her voice higher pitched. She sounds guilty and her voice is tight as she speaks “We have no clue who they are. They could be dangerous.” 

“You mean like me, Ochako?” A man adds. “I could have been dangerous.” 

The group grows quiet for a moment. 

“No,” Momo says. You recognize the cadence of her voice. “Shoto might be right, Denki. It’s been nearly six months since you got here and the world has changed a lot. We don’t- we can’t know for sure.”

“Can we really know anything for sure?” Another man adds, Kiri.

“What about you guys?” Shoto says, presumably to the rest of the group. 

“I don’t know.”

“I’m hesitant, but I don’t know either.”  

“Jesus,” another man with a baritone voice, harsher than the rest. That’s Katsuki, the first voice you’d heard of the group. “You guys make me a little sick.” 

“That’s not fair,” Ochako says. 

“No,” he interrupts. “It is fair. You guys want to… what? Send them back out there to die?” 

“It’s not like that,” Shoto says.  

“It is like that,” he says, raising his voice and then lowering it back to a whisper. “You didn’t see them when they got here, Shoto. They- they didn’t look… shit. The rest of you, you saw them. You really want to send them back out there to fuckin’ waste away? I don’t know about you all, but I won’t do that to a person.” 

There’s a pregnant pause.

“Katsuki’s right,” Izuku says with a bit of conviction, like he’s finally made up his mind. “Sending someone out there alone is a death sentence. How does doing that make us any better than the people we’re trying to protect ourselves from?” 

“What if there are more of them?” Ochako says quietly. “What if they’re not alone?” 

“Trust me,” Katsuki says, “They were alone.” 

“But what if they’re not?” She insists at a whisper, a bit of shame creeping into her voice. “What if people come for us?” 

“See?” Shoto says gently. “There are so many what-ifs.” 

“That works the other way too,” Mina adds. 

You don’t listen to hear the rest of their conversation. They’re going to run themselves in circles debating about you. They’ll go around and around and land on whichever argument ends with the most votes. They’ll convince each other of one thing and it will happen totally out of your control. 

The bedroom door shuts with a low click that makes you wince again. You think about the people who went to bat for you and the people who didn’t. You don’t blame those who opposed. You’d have probably reacted similarly if your old group were still alive and you understand very clearly why they do it. One person’s stupid reaction can be catastrophic and they don’t know enough about you to be certain that you’re not one of those stupid people. It’s how the world went to shit in the first place and though nine months ago you’d have surely condemned someone for making the same decision, you know that fear has warped humanity beyond comprehension. You didn’t get it until you lived it. 

Still, Katsuki’s humanity feels intact somehow, more so than yours at least. His response is something you probably never would have said under the same conditions and you can’t help but feel some sort of fondness bloom in you for him. Call it connection, gratefulness for his willingness to stick his neck out for you, a trauma response. You still feel it. Mina and Kiri had said that Katsuki was a good judge of character and that’s why they were willing to back him. You wonder briefly if maybe Katsuki sees something in you that you don’t recognize in yourself anymore, or maybe something you don’t expect other people to recognize. What is it that he wants so badly to protect? 

Someone stomps down the hallway, heavy boots against the old creaky floors. You hear the steps recede down the hallway, maybe a door or two down, before it shuts quickly. The sound makes you wince and you listen as the house grows quiet and then hums quietly with the sound of others coming upstairs a few moments later. Someone pads to the end of the hall, pushing the door open. 

You hear a woman’s voice, so muffled that you can’t make out what she’s saying. Then, you hear the sound of a man’s affirmation before the bedroom door shuts and the visitor moves back down the hall to a separate bedroom. Information passing through the house. 

Someone is moving around in a room below you and you figure that there are probably bedrooms downstairs as well. From the outside, you’d never guess that the place could house ten people. Inside though, the bedrooms are small. That’s probably why so many can fit. You’d guess that the place used to have multiple generations living in it, or maybe even rented out rooms to people for a few months. It sort of has a boarding house feel to it, like many people have come and gone even before people stopped staying in one place. 

That’s a good thing to call it, the boarding house. It certainly has that sort of feel to it, many of its spaces undeniably communal. 

You turn over in the bed, facing the bedroom door. The lights have gone out completely now and the house is quiet save for the occasional creak or thud from someone preparing to sleep. It’s been a long while since the sounds of living have been so prevalent near you. You’re eased by the sounds of the house settling, a familiar reminder of what living used to be. Your group had been on the road long before you lost them and the comforts of an interior are almost overwhelmingly nostalgic. You’re better rested to notice it now and shutting your eyes, you savor the feeling. 

—

“Need some help?” You say. 

Denki turns around, grease smeared across his nose where he likely wiped it with his dirty hands. He’s holding a wrench in a glove so tattered that it hardly counts as a glove anymore. He looks startled, amber eyes widening before he uses his forearm to brush stray hairs out of his face. The rest of it is pulled up into a messy ponytail, revealing the moist back of his neck. 

“Oh, sure,” he says, a bit surprised. “Do you know how generators work?” 

He crouches back over the machine and you step up behind him. 

The machine is rusted near the bottom and between the exposed winding pipes. Its paint has chipped away, leaving the weather-damaged metal open for you to see. On the side, a fan-like piece spins slowly in circles and the machine whirs and sputters softly as it… generates power, probably. 

“Not quite, but an extra pair of hands is always helpful,” you say softly, passing him a tool he’d been reaching for. “Did it break?” 

“No,” Denki says, “but it’s probably on its last legs. The thing’s almost as old as we are, probably older, so it’s good to tune it up a bunch.” 

You hum your agreement, tilting your head as you stand and watch him work. 

You’re not necessarily comfortable with Denki, but he feels like a safe person for some reason. Maybe it’s because he’s got a sort of ditzy, non-threatening vibe to him. You can almost distinctly picture him tripping over his own feet and something about that makes you feel considerably safer than someone who wouldn’t. That and he was the first person you’ve come across this morning who you don’t think distrusts you too badly. 

“Are you dodging something?” Denki smirks up at you from his crouch. 

“Who on earth would I be dodging?” you snort a bit defensively. 

“Shoto,” he says with a light smile. “He put you in a tight spot the other day.” 

“Yeah, well,” you say, glancing over your shoulder. “It wasn’t anything he didn’t have a right to ask.” 

“Right, but it sure was rude, huh?” 

Denki laughs to himself a little and you’re surprised by how easygoing he is. You subconsciously begin to categorize him with Mina and Kiri. The dichotomy of this group baffles you a bit, but you can certainly see all nine of them as a collective. Tightly knit and well acquainted with the habits of others. 

“Oh!” He exclaims, “I have something you can do for me.” 

You tilt your head. 

“There’s a bucket over there,” he says, pointing absentmindedly to a shitty plastic bucket against the side of the house. “We use the water from the creek as coolant. It’s not factory grade, but it does the trick. You wanna go fill it up and bring it back for when I’m done tuning this thing up?” 

You furrow your eyebrows, not sure where the creek he’s talking about is. 

“The creek is just over there,” he points behind the house to the edge of the treeline. “I know you can’t see it from here, but if you walk in a straight line, you’ll hit it. Katsuki should be down there too, so you can use him as a landmark.” 

When you don’t immediately answer, Denki whines a little. 

“I mean,” he says, “I’d go myself, but-” 

“I’ll do it,” you laugh a little and Denki seems surprised that you do. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I’d like to pull some weight at least while I’m here. Plus, I offered.” 

Denki mumbles his pleasure and you walk to the bucket without another word and set off in the direction Denki pointed. You’re much more willing to go out to the treeline now that you have a knife back at your side. 

The walk to the trees is longer than it looks, like how sometimes the horizon looks like something you could reach out and climb up onto. The walk stretches with each step you take and you become a little more understanding of why Denki didn’t want to do it himself. But the walk is actually pleasant, the warmth of mid May collecting evenly on your skin as the humidity grows more intense with the sun. 

You wonder what Katsuki would be doing by the creek. Maybe he’s fishing, or crouched over himself sharpening an arsenal of knives that you think he might keep in a roll attached to his belt sometimes. You’re not sure why, but Katsuki sort of has that expression to him. He’s handsome, but the scowl projects something hostile that makes him seem unapproachable. 

As you cross through the middle of the clearing, you could almost imagine that this is a normal day. Humidity collects on your skin, making you sweat a little as you dodge gopher holes and soft spots of dirt. It almost feels like summer camp, if it weren’t for the looming idea that you’re contributing to something you may not be a part of. Denki’s attitude though, has you hoping for a more favorable outcome, if you want to call it that. 

You’re only a few steps into the line of trees when the earth dips into a sand-lined ravine. The trees leave room for the sun to beat down on warmed rocks, making the area seem brighter with their subtle reflection of the light. The noise of the creek drowns out the sound of your footsteps and you shuffle toward where the earth flattens just before the water starts. A little ways to your right, you can see Katsuki sitting on a rock in the sun, his hands dipped into a large bucket. You narrow your eyes as he pulls what looks like a cloth out of the water, rubbing the fabric together before dipping it in the cool water of the creek.

As you approach, you realize what it is that he’s doing. It’s laundry. On the other side of him, you can see a bin of what look like dirty clothes and water-soaked clean ones. Talk about misjudged character. 

“Katsuki,” you say as you approach him, the bucket still empty in your hand.

He squints up at you, shifting his face so that it's in your shadow. 

“You’re still here,” he says plainly, returning to his task. 

“Clearly,” you respond, watching as he runs his fingers over the next piece of clothing in the bucket. 

“Why are you down here? Did Denki pawn the generator water onto you?” He says, like he’s somewhat frustrated. “He does that shit to anyone he can.” 

You shrug your shoulders and continue to stare at him. 

“Are you just gonna stand there?” He huffs out. 

“You’re doing laundry.” 

“Yeah?” he furrows his eyebrows and looks at you. “So?” 

“Nothing,” you say. “I just didn’t expect that.” 

“Yeah well,” he stops for a moment like he’s struggling to find the words. “It needed to be done. Figured I might as well.” 

“How progressive of you,” you joke with a straight face. 

He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes and sighs, not justifying your comment with a response. You find yourself smiling a little bit. 

“If you’re going to linger, sit down and do it,” he says. “You’re creeping me out.” 

You oblige him and sit down on a rock next to him, far enough that you’re not touching, but near enough to hear him if you speak in a low voice. For some reason, you feel a sort of kinship with Katsuki. You’d thought longer than you’d like to admit about his willingness to vouch for you and find that you want to live up to his expectation of your goodness, even if it’s not what you believe yourself to be anymore. Maybe it’s because you’ve slept well the past few nights and feel more like yourself, but there’s a certain casualness to conversing with him that you enjoy. He’s not looking at what you could be, but rather what you’re showing him that you are. His lack of doubt in that is something you find relatively attractive. 

You watch his arms out of the corner of your eye in between gazing at the treeline and the sky. Your field of vision catches on them, his sleeves cut short to expose his biceps, a bit muddied near the elbows where the mud has begun to stick. 

Katsuki doesn’t seem all that bothered by your presence, but now and then you’ll catch the sideways glance he gives you, almost like he’s trying to figure out exactly why you’re lingering. 

“How long have you been with them?” You ask, more as a way to fill the silence. 

Katsuki’s hands pause as he thinks about answering, then, they continue their steady pace. 

“A decent amount of time,” he says. “I met Izuku first, probably in November just before Mina and Kiri. The rest came later.” 

You furrow your eyebrows. 

“No offense,” you start, “but you don’t really seem like the group type.” 

“And you don’t seem like the type who’d be alone,” he retorts, like your statement was stupid. 

You press your lips into a tight line, not really knowing how to respond. 

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head a little. 

“Were you?” 

“What? Was I sorry?” He furrows his eyebrows at you. 

“No,” you shake your head. “Were you alone? Before Izuku.” 

He goes silent. You’ll take that as a yes, but you regret asking a little. It had just slipped out. If someone were to ask you something like that, you’d probably react the same way. That’s just as well, you don’t really need to know him like that anyway. 

You wonder briefly if anyone does. He seems closed off, but Mina and Kiri spoke about him a few days prior like they knew him well. Well enough at least to allude to a history you’ll likely never be privy to. Then there’s Momo, who whispers little things to him that he answers in kind. Curiosity gets the better of you, if only to tease. 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you ask and Katsuki’s response is to rest his elbows on his knees and let out a dry laugh. 

He turns his head and looks at you from the side. “And what the fuck are you asking me that for?” 

“Just curious,” you say. “Is it Momo?” 

“Momo?” He makes a sour face at you. “Yeah, right.” 

“She’s pretty,” you say. 

“Sure is,” he responds dryly. “If you’re into the mom type.” 

“What? You’re not into moms?” You grin a little and Katsuki furrows his eyebrows at you. 

“So you do have a personality,” he scoffs a little. 

There’s a pause. You haven’t felt this in a while. The feeling of bonding with someone new, compatibility on the human level that feels nearly instant. 

“I’m kinda serious though,” you say, tilting your head down to catch his eye. “Do you?” 

You’re leaning a little closer to him now.

“You seen any nice restaurants to take a person out to these days?” he questions, clearly a little frustrated with you in the way someone gets when they’re a bit amused. 

“You don’t have to take someone out to a restaurant to fuck them, you know?” You laugh a little. 

Katsuki’s lips part and he swallows like his mouth has gone dry. 

“Yeah, well,” he starts, looking away from you. “I’m a romantic. Sue me.” 

He’s just full of surprises, isn’t he? You find that you’re captivated by this feeling, this humanity, that exists in him. It’s something alive between you both, something left behind from the old world, and you crave it the same way you crave food. 

Katsuki continues scrubbing the clothes, rubbing the fabric together and then dunking it in the bucket before plunging it into the freshwater creek. You’re not sure why you do it, but the next time he looks at you, you kiss him. 

It’s not as if you like him, but it’s something to feel. Some remnant of the butterflies you used to feel on dates and the kiss makes you feel like you could be close to human again. You pull away almost as soon as you put his lips to yours and you can tell that the expression on your face is one of surprise.

Katsuki blinks for a second, looking at you with his brows knitted together. The expression doesn’t leave him as he places a wet hand on the side of your face to kiss you again. It’s an anxious kiss, confused and slow but—like someone riding a bike for the first time in years—it quickly becomes something familiar. Muscle memory that you both let yourselves sink into. 

You can feel his expression as he kisses you, something between confusion and desire, like his own actions are perplexing. You feel the same way, hesitant, but reaching in the dark for the promise of some sort of normalcy. You want to feel like a person again. You haven’t felt it in so long and you push yourself against him as the ache swells in you. 

The two of you continue like this for a moment, Katsuki’s fingers pressing lightly into the skin of your neck. You moan softly as his tongue slips into your mouth, taking a sharp inhale at the sensation of skin on skin. The sound of the creek drowns out the clicking of your mouths, but you can feel the way he hums into your mouth. They’re little sounds, involuntary ones driven by the nervous, desirous feelings inside of you both. 

Then, Katsuki pulls away, swallowing thick as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. You appreciate the way they look. They’re swollen, anxious to continue and keep forgetting where you really are. He drops his hand from your face with a sigh and almost seems like he comes back to himself. You do the same, moving back into an upright position. 

“Denki will want that water soon,” he clears his throat and motions to the empty bucket by your feet. 

“Oh,” you say, laughing a little. “Right.” 

You stand, dusting off the back of your pants and dunking the bucket into the water. It sloshes, the liquid hitting the back of the plastic with a satisfying elastic sound. You begin to walk away without another word, heading down the way you came to climb up the gentler part of the slope. 

“Hey,” Katsuki calls softly. “You should stay. We talked it over last night. You can if you want to.” 

The last part, he says facing the wash, his hands moving as if he hadn’t said anything at all. You don’t respond, knowing that the obvious answer is already yes. 

Dread settles in your stomach. It’s an icky, swirling feeling that threatens to make you double over. You climb up the bank, the water in the bucket sloshing as you move through the trees and enter the clearing. The feeling doesn’t dissipate, growing as you leave the cover of the trees. You probably wouldn’t have kissed him if he’d asked you that earlier. 

The boarding house comes into view and you can see Denki sitting beside the generator, conversing with who appears to be Shoto. They turn and Denki waves you down, Shoto turning away and starting around for the front of the house. 

Denki jogs to meet you, taking the bucket from your hand. You flex your fingers as the weight is removed, wincing a little at how stiff they feel. 

“Jeez, what took you so long?” Denki laughs and with your new information, you understand his willingness to be friendly with you a little better. 

“I asked Katsuki for his life story,” you respond dryly, following him back to the generator. 

Denki looks over his shoulder and laughs at you. “Did he tell you?” 

You pause for a moment, watching as Denki unscrews something and pours the water in. 

“Nope,” you say. “Not a thing.”

Click Here to go to the second chapter and find the rest of the series on ao3. The remainder will not be posted on tumlbr, but please feel free to reblog!

[joonipertree]

Sano Manjiro, the most frustrating man to have a crush on

You learnt that Mikey punched a guy who asked you out. Mikey refuses to explain why. Both of you are dumbasses.

Tags: fluff, stupid shit, getting together, friends to lovers, fem bodied reader, smut at the end, it's him just eating you out sjsns, slight Dom/sub undertones because I can't help myself

  Mikey was a dumbass. 

In every sense of the word, he was a short fucking dumbass with a deep melodic voice and great hair. The biggest dumbass in the world. You wanted to punch him in the face and kiss him at the same time. Genuinely, you couldn’t stand that man. In no way could you imagine him ever being a good boyfriend. He’d suck at it-----

“Oi, Sano Manjiro.” 

The man in question turned, face dead and eyebrow twitching. 

“What?”

“Did you beat up the guy? 

“I beat up a lot of guys.”

“The guy who asked me out.”

Mikey sat back with his palms on the ground and Toman jacket secured on his back. His hair had gotten long, a bit too long for his liking and he still hadn’t decided how to cut it. You’d already taken the liberty over the last few weeks to tie them in pigtails and braid them to your heart’s content. He’d just walk around like that without batting an eye. 

“Yeah, he went out with one hit. You could do better.”

“Do you know who you are? The fuck. That could have killed him.”

“He isn’t in the hospital or anything.”

You turned around, not being able to take a look at your friend anymore than you needed to. Everyone around you stared with either pity or annoyance. Sanzu, Emma and Ken-chin were utterly done with Mikey’s dumbassery and Chifuyu was done with yours. Baji and Kazutora were done with both of you. They just always choose the stupid people as friends. 

“You weren’t gonna say ‘yes’ were you?”

And you weren’t. The boy had very bravely confessed his feelings for you (unlike some people) and before you could even tell him your answer, he’d told you to think about it at least. You’d appreciated it and left at that, already planning on saying no. 

“Maybe I was, what’s it to you?”

“Oh my god,” Emma muttered out in agony. 

"Maybe you should nurse him back to health then." 

"Yeah I was already planning on it." 

No you were not.

You left with an emphasis on your steps, back straight and eyes hard because you were stubborn. You didn't care if Mikey won at being the most stubborn person in the block, you would beat him at his own game.

♡

"You know he likes you. He has for years. He knows you like him. Just fuck already." Chifuyu moaned out, having gotten over the shoujo vibes very quickly after seeing the slow burn drag out. 

"I dunno what you're talking about." 

You wanted to deny it. Not deny that you were in love with Mikey but deny he was in love with you. Because admitting it meant hoping for something to happen and false hope got you hurt. People got close, they saw you in your humanity and ran away. The only people you trusted not to leave were your friends, Mikey included. 

"Oh come on. I have given you a powerpoint presentation and a whole binder worth of evidence that Mikey likes you. I nearly got wiped out by Draken for taking one too many pictures." 

You snorted. Chifuyu being a romantic buffoon with an overeager imagination made it harder for you to accept it. But you did acknowledge, not with the binder full of pictures and 'receipts', that Mikey had a soft spot for you. 

You got close at 17, Mikey being an extroverted loud mouth and you being a shy but curious introvert. He took you on bike rides, talked to you while making eye contact, held your hand and pulled you next to him and you fed him bites of your food and let him sleep on your lap. 

But you wanted to argue that….Mikey was just friendly like that. 

It had been a few years before you noticed that Mikey rarely made eye contact with people while talking but always asked for your attention. You both were hopeless and were just waiting for the other one to confess. It was getting painful. 

Chifuyu's eyes shifting to the side made you alert because he wasn't good at acting. And when he got up and ran, you knew who came inside. 

"Hi, Captain! Bye, Captain!" 

Mikey sat in front of you, dark bottomless eyes staring into your soul. You looked back at him, still pissed that he punched a perfectly nice guy. He then eyed your sundae and you immediately pulled it closer to you. He needed to learn that actions had consequences and that you weren't weak for him.

  With a pout, Mikey placed his chin on his arms, splayed out on the table. It made you aware how broad he was, fingers nimble and boney and angular.

 Pretty. Always so pretty. 

"How's your boyfriend doing?" 

Your teeth clicked and with a roll of your eyes, you established that Mikey needed to get pushed off a cliff somewhere. 

"So you aren't gonna tell me?" 

"Tell you what?" Mikey drawled out, looking up at you through his eyelashes. 

"Why you punched an innocent dude."

"He pissed me off." 

"Why?" 

"Did you say yes?" 

"Answer me first." 

"I did." 

You glared, taking a petty bite of your ice cream in retaliation. Mikey glared back harder, only changing when he looked out the corner of his eyes. You were about to turn your head before he spoke up again. 

"It was an accident." 

Your snort was loud and unattractive, hiding your face to try and compose yourself. When you looked up,Mikey's face had softened. 

"I don't believe you." 

"It's the truth. Answer my question." 

You debated your options. Because maybe saying that 'yeah I want to date him' would be going too far considering it would be a lie. But admitting that you didn't meant even more probing questions. Like why you were annoyed at Mikey for punching someone you didn't wanna date.

"Why do you care?" You retaliated like a dumbass.

"You're pissing me off." 

"Good." 

There was another pause. Mikey's hand moving to steal your bowl. You swerve it away from him with no chance of winning with his reflexes and the limited space. So your hand went to grab his wrist. 

Your heart raced at immediate contact. You became all too aware of him. Aware of his delicate wrist, the muscle, the bone that jutted out, the blue veins against pale skin. You became aware of his reddened and bruised knuckles, his calluses and ripped cuticles. They were hands of a delinquent, that liked to grip things too tight and didn't mind rough surfaces and reveled in strenuous activity. They were big too, too big against your own hand and too rough for your soft skin. 

And they were warm, soaking into you to leave a lasting impression. 

Mikey let go of the bowl in favor of holding your arm, gentle and all encompassing. His thumb rubbed against your skin, causing goosebumps to form and a shiver to run down your spine. 

"I was fighting with Takemitchy. The dude got caught in the crossfire. My hand landed on his face by accident. I can show you Mitchy as proof. He still looks run down. Even I took a few hits." 

You saw. Saw the scratches on his face and the redness of his jaw. It made you want to chide him for not bandaging himself. But he always liked it when you did it. Your eyes couldn't meet his, staring at your fingers wrapped around his wrist and his thumb rubbing your skin. 

"You need to stop fighting in public settings." 

"It wasn't that bad. A tire or two got thrown around but that's about it." 

"Where did you--- not gonna ask." 

Mikey giggled, soft and gravelly. You were reminded that the years changed his voice in a way that was still his. There was a pause and you realised the question eating away at you wouldn't go away until you asked it. The secret you kept wouldn't help being hidden away. You were tired and just wanted him. 

"You know……I talked to the guy today. Went to meet him." 

Mikey's eyes instantly hardened, looking away with a click of his tongue. 

"Ah, did he tell you I knocked his brains out? You shouldn't date a liar." 

"No," you tried to keep your voice casual, "he told me that it hurt but you weren't even looking at him when it happened. He just got too close." 

"Then why did you ask---" 

"He apologised though, said he didn't know I had a boyfriend." 

Mikey’s lips tugged upwards, turning his head to the side so he could catch his composure. And you were ready to slap the shit out of him. 

“Huh, I don’t know what gave him that impression. We must look good together.”

“I feel like you saying ‘that’s for asking my girl out’ after you hit him might’ve done the trick.”

Mikey held his hands up in surrender, knees knocking against yours almost to tease. 

"I didn't hit him, I just repurposed the accident. Didn't want it to go to waste." 

"Manjiro." 

"What?"

"I'm not yours." 

"Since when?" 

"Since always!!" 

His eyebrows furrowed, leaning back with a huge frown like you'd just told him his house burnt down. 

"What the fuck?"

"You can't just make me yours without asking me first, asshat." 

"Everyone knows you're mine."

"I dont." 

Mikey took your hand, lips on the back of it as if it was a normal part of his day. But your breath hitched and you froze. Because oh---

"I found you first." 

Your palms slammed against the table.

"If you wanna kiss me so bad then do it on my mouth, you coward---"

And within the next second, Manjiro’s mouth crashed into yours. It nearly knocked you back, if it wasn’t for his hand at the back of your head, curling into your hair. You whimpered against him, his lips tugging into a satisfied smirk. 

Chifuyu had yelled out, “Fucking finally!!”

The sound of your lips parting away from each other was enough to make you want to lean back in. Your lips weren’t willing to move even an inch away from him. He tasted good. Like vanilla. And he had trouble keeping himself away from you as well, leaving chaste kisses on the corners of your mouth, fingers keeping your chin lifted up. 

A throat was cleared, your cheeks instantly burned with the realisation of where you were. Mikey glared at the waiter who just let him know that it was time to leave. And with fingers interlocked, Mikey pulled you away from the diner, sticking out his tongue to Ken-chin who sighed in relief and leaned against Emma.

You got on his bike without question, heart racing because oh god--

The door to his room slammed open and he barely paid attention to anything with his arm around you. You giggled as he lifted you up and swirled you inside with a flourish. Once the door was shut, his laughter was loud and warm as his lips crashed into you, hungry for more. And you let him lead you, combing your hand through his hair causing him to shiver. 

Mikey hugged you close, gentle in his touch and you let him swallow you whole and envelop you. When his tongue prodded against your lip, you parted them easily as if he didn’t even have to ask. And oh, he felt good.

 But Mikey will spend the rest of your lives telling you that you were the best feeling in the world. 

“Mine.” Manjiro murmured out, sucking on your lower lip so harshly that your whole body did a visceral shudder. 

You were breathing hard when you parted, eyes hazy but daring as you looked your best friend in the eye. 

“You still haven’t asked me, asshat.”

Manjiro growled, eyes narrowed and twitching. Your head and body threw itself back as you burst out laughing, feeling free because you knew Mikey’s arm would never let you fall. That led your neck to be exposed to the littering kisses Manjiro gave out of vengeance.

 You squealed as it tickled and felt your knees give out against the bed beneath you. He’d backed you up, without you noticing, like a predator cornering its prey for a meal well earned. 

You felt yourself sink into the soft mattress, hand reached out to tug his shirt down towards you. Manjiro just stared at you, eyes gleaming with an emotion you didn’t understand and a grin so wide you could see all his teeth. 

“Mine, in every timeline.” Mikey whispered. 

And your breath hitched, speaking out without a second thought. 

“Yours, in every universe.” 

Manjiro’s eyes watered and he finally enveloped you, body a welcomed weight as he kissed you in slow languid bliss. 

“Good baby,” he whispered and you whined out. 

You pawed at him, liking the praise a little too much. Manjiro’s kisses left a wet hot trail as he went from your chin to your cheek. A wet sound heard every time his lips disconnected from you. You let him have his way, feeling his hand pat the side of your head. 

You wanted to kiss him back but every time you tried, he clicked his tongue in disapproval and you just laid there as he poured his love into you. You had begun to tear up because Manjiro's love was overwhelming and it was for you.

Your eyes closed as his lips met your eyelids, tasting the salty tears and pulling back to inspect your face. You mewled at the lost contact, opening your eyes and pouting.

Oh, how dare he 

He hushed you, hand patting your head again, lips continuing their venture on your face. 

 Your legs wrapped themselves around his waist. And both of you became aware of the effect the intimacy had on you.

 Manjiro pressed into you, hips solid and confident. And you felt his bulge against your pussy, only his pants and your underwear in the way. it was enough to drive you insane. 

You yearned and yearned and begged with pretty fluttery eyes that had him breathless. 

“Yeah? You wan’ me, honey?”

And despite the embarrassment, you nodded with the biggest pout you could muster. And Manjiro melted just at that, ready to burn the world for you if you asked him to. In another timeline, he probably had. 

“Haven’t even been dating for a minute and you're already so needy.”

He didn’t even let you blubber out a complaint before your underwear was exposed to him. And you craved him so badly that your legs made space for only Manjiro. He appreciated it, boney fingers squeezing your hips before imprinting the memory of the wet patch into his mind. 

Oh you were so sweet. A type of pliable that was only given to those you trusted. 

“Not allowed to hide anything, okay?”

And with that, his nose traced the outline of your pussy, tongue peaking out for a taste that just wasn’t enough for you. Your thighs squished against his cheeks and he groaned, pressing his full mouth onto you. Your hips jutted upwards, a cry weak and wobbly escaping your lips. And with effort, you spoke.

“Stop teasing, jerk.”

The warmth was too much, you could feel him right there but the cotton was in the way. Despite your protest, he lapped you up out of greed. And your hands clutched onto his hair. 

“If there’s nothing between us, I won’t be sane.” You heard him say and it just made you needier. 

“Don’ want you to be. Please.”

And with that, his hand ripped your panties out of the way. Manjiro took a second to stare in awe at your pretty pussy. It was so wet, begging him to eat it out, practically drooling. Many thoughts went through his head.

How it would feel to be inside you, how warm it would be, if he could last long in the tightness? If he'd ever be able to survive without the taste of your pussy after this moment? If he gave your cunt a smack, would you like it?

Manjiro decided that keeping you waiting was the worst thing he could possibly do. 

Mikey was a lot more hungry than he thought he was. Your pussy was engulfed in his mouth.

 The direct contact was enough to make him moan. Your own got stuck in your throat, not realising how overwhelming it would be. When his tongue prodded inside, you let him guide your legs against your chest so that he could have more access. And then it plunged inside and you let out a warbled moan that felt too loud in your own ears. With a hand covering your mouth, you tried to suppress the little sounds tumbling out of you.

Manjiro’s middle finger tapped against the plush of your thigh and he pulled away with effort to say:

“No hiding. Be good.”

You cried out, flexing your fingers in his hair as he went back to the task at hand. And you let yourself voice out the feeling, soft “ah, ah, ah”s filling the air and causing you to tear up in embarrassment. 

“Wan’ to be-be good for you.”

“Mhmmm,” He answered with the vibration of his hum shooting through your pussy and into your back that arched almost painfully. 

The orgasm came out of nowhere, crashing into you the second Manjiro’s mouth wrapped around your clit and sucked. 

You didn’t even care how loud you were being, brain wiping out everything it had as your body arched and twitched. Manjiro only stopped lapping your cum when you flinched away, kissing your inner thigh before moving to you for a kiss. 

You let him inside your mouth easily, whimpering and pawing at his shoulder as you held him close. You shook in his embrace, muttering out weak and tiny ‘thank you’s that had him chuckling at you. 

“Did your Manjiro make you feel good, bubba?” 

“Uh-huh.” You nodded, kissing the corner of his lips in appreciation. 

[munsons-hellfire]

Happiness in the Heart | Eris Vanserra

SUMMARY: You were in love with Azriel for as long as you could remember. But things changed when Elain joined your family, everything changed. Then you met your mate and suddenly you found everything you ever wanted. But you couldn't have had it had it not been for Azriel.

PAIRINGS: Eris Vanserra x Reader

CONTENT WARNINGS: No smut, Eris is nothing but sweet in this, angst, fluff, mentions of death, mentions of blood, nothing to graphic, mentions of heartbreak.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I had plans to make this a lot more sadder than what is actually written. But I like the way it turned out for the most part. I wanted to write a good sweet side to Eris and this was it. I enjoyed writing this very much and I hope you enjoy it as well.

WORD COUNT: 5.1K

You’d been a part of the inner circle since you could remember. For a long time you truly felt like one of them but everything seemed to change when the Archeron sisters became a part of the inner circle. Suddenly everyone whom you’d assumed was your friend had disappeared. Azriel was your best friend and the two of you were inseparable and then Elain came into the picture and just like that you lost him.

You didn’t blame Elain, you understood. You knew that maybe you were better off alone. Your thoughts got the better of you telling you that maybe things would be better if you disappeared. Especially when Azriel started spending more time with Elain. You loved him, but had always been too afraid to say something. Though now it seemed like you no longer had a chance.

You were drifting from the inner circle, becoming less and less. Though you would still go out on missions, but for the most part you’d ask Rhys to send you out by yourself. As you started to lock yourself inside your room and away from the people you cared about they didn’t seem to notice. That hurt the most, that you had just disappeared from their lives.

Currently you were in the autumn court, Eris had become the new heir of the Court after his father’s untimely demise. Your friends were around but you paid no mind to them, you had drink after drink until you were drunk enough to hopefully not remember anything the following morning. You looked around the court, Azriel was in the center smiling and dancing with Elain.

Right then and there your heart had officially been torn to pieces. And to make the blow worse you believed that everything that had happened between you and Azriel had been your fault. You had waited too long and now you’d never get a chance to tell him how you felt. Taking a long exhale you grabbed another glass of wine and exited out of the room heading outdoors.

You tumbled down the steps slightly eventually sitting down on one of them, then you dropped your body the rest of the way and stared up at the stars with nothing but a blank gaze as tears cascaded down your face and into your hair. You had tried so hard not to cry but seeing Azriel happy with someone who wasn’t you made it that much worse. A figure stood in front of you glancing down at you.

“I would’ve thought that everyone from the Night Court liked to party.” Eris Vanserra’s voice ran through your ears. The newly appointed High Lord was staring down at you.

“I guess I’m not in the mood for a party.” You mumbled, staring past him.

“Pity.” He paused, wanting nothing more than to stop the tears falling from your face. Eris had known since the High Lord meeting to fight against Hybern that you were his mate. When you had walked into the room and looked at him he had felt the golden thread of the bond tie his soul to yours. But it seemed nothing had snapped for you. It had been 5 years since then, 5 years too long in his eyes. “You look rather divine if I say so myself.”

“You’re compliments won’t do anything to cheer me up.”

Eris moved down the steps, then he held his hand out to you. “Walk with me, my darling fox.”

You grabbed his hand but held a glare on your face. “I’m not your darling fox, don’t call me that.”

The male only smiled as the moonlight highlighted his features. “You say that now, sweetheart.”

You released a groan walking past the High Lord. No matter what you heard about Eris, you couldn’t seem to hate him and you didn’t understand why. When the two of you were far enough from the party Eris shrugged off his cold exterior.

“Why don’t you come stay in my court for a while.” Eris said, showing his compassionate side to you. Shock seemed to wash over your face as you stared at him.

“What? Why?” You rushed out.

“Do those you consider friends really care about you?” He asked a serious look in his amber eyes. “Do they know that you're struggling, that you feel so alone, that the male that you love is not interested in you?” The way he had mentioned Azriel was off putting to you. Like he was upset that you were in love with another male that wasn’t him. But why, is what you wanted to know.

“My burdens are not theirs to bear, they are not yours to bear. We barely know each other.”

“I don’t need to know you to feel your pain, little fox.” Eris lifted a hand and moved a strand of your hair behind your pointed ear. The touch was enough to cause your heart to stutter in your chest,

“How can you feel my pain?”

He sighed, looking away. “You’re my mate, Y/N.” The words were soft and so low you almost didn’t hear him speak it.

“What?” He could hear the confusion in your voice as you stared at him.

Eris didn’t want to repeat himself because he needed to get it off his chest, he needed you to know even if you hadn’t felt the bond, even if there might be a chance that you’d reject it. He couldn’t wake up everyday anymore and feel your pain. He wanted to help, he wanted to be there for you to show you that you're not alone no matter what you think.

“You. Are. My. Mate.” He had paused in between the words and had also stepped closer to you. Your breath hitched in your throat when he grasped your fingers and held them between his. And as if he had spoken it into existence you felt the gold thread tie you to Eris. When he gave a tug on the bond a choked sob left your mouth.

You surprised yourself when you wrapped your hands around the male’s waist and pulled him into a hug. More tears had started to roll down your face as he hugged you back just as tightly. When you pulled back slightly to look up at him he lifted his hand to wipe away the tears.

“What does this mean?” You asked.

“You can stay in the Night Court if that’s what you wish, I won’t force this on you. But I’d like a chance for you to get to know me better. To know the real me and not the cold distant male you’ve met a handful of times.”

“Okay.” You paused, staring into his beautiful eyes. “And when I’m ready to accept the bond?”

“When you’re one day ready to accept it we can hold whatever ceremony you’d like. But I’d only request that you come stay with me here in the Autumn Court. Only after will you be my High Lady. You’ll rule with me by my side, I will not force you to bear my heir, all of that will be your decision. All of this will be yours to choose.”

You nodded your head. “I might need a few days to think about the offer.”

“Very well my little fox.” You rolled your eyes at the male.

───── ❝ ◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸ ❞ ─────

You had traveled back to the Night Court, after that night. Upon returning you felt a little less alone. You thought that the idea of Eris being your mate would scare you, but in truth it excited you. Looking at the supposed friendships, you started to think that maybe it was time to leave. You wanted to know Eris more and eventually accept the bond. You just needed time to adjust to the idea of leaving.

In the weeks that you’d returned home no one had made an effort to see where you’d gone that night. Not even Azriel. Suddenly you no longer felt sad about him not loving you. But it still hurt. The way they had all treated you had hurt. Currently you were on a mission by yourself, Rhys had sent you to a village to see if any danger lie there.

In hindsight you should’ve brought someone with you. But that mistake cost you everything. You’d swore to yourself to keep the village safe from whatever danger loomed over it. But when the fairies appeared and took you out, they had killed every villager. Silence surrounded you, you had blacked out and managed to winnow back home.

Eris could feel your panic, sorrow, fear, and sadness down the bond. You landed in the center of your room, blood covered the entirety of your body and you don’t remember what had happened. All you knew is that whoever had killed the villagers were dead. Screams of pain left your mouth, but to you they were muffled. This mission has truly broken you. The door to your bedroom opened, there stood Azriel.

Rhys and Feyre right behind him. While they were trying to get you to calm down and stop the screams that fell off your lips. All the while you started to call for your mate.

“Eris please.” You had whispered in your mind.

“I’m on my way little fox.” He whispered back.

When Azriel got close enough that he could touch you, you flinched, backing away from him. “Don’t touch me.” You had angrily whispered. You could see the hurt on his face but you didn’t have the mental capacity to focus on that, your mind was still on all the children who had died on your hands, all the parents that had been slaughtered, all the elders that were killed. They were all on your hands.

“Y/N, tell me what happened.” Azriel said, hoping he could get something before Rhys or Feyre entered your mind.

“Now you care.” Those were the only words that came from your mouth before Rhys entered your mind. Your shields were down and he had been able to discover everything. You tried to push the High Lord out of your mind but it had been too much. So much so that when he left your mind you collapsed to the ground. You feel asleep the nightmares of what you witnessed following you.

Rhys had shown both Feyre and Azriel what had happened on the mission. He however refused to show Azriel that Eris had been your mate. He would respect your privacy on that. As for everything else, he should’ve seen the signs that you were pulling away, and after this mission he knew you’d leave and never return. They had all pushed you and now they had lost you.

Cassian appeared, Eris standing with him, a scared look on his face as he looked down at you unconscious. Azriel clenched his jaw, staring at the male.

“What’s he doing here?” Azriel went on to ask.

“I’m here to take my mate home.” Eris answered as he walked towards your body that was still covered in blood.

“You’re her mate?” The words left Azriel’s mouth before he could stop them.

Eris only ignored him, he picked your body up and held you in his arms. Then he turned back to Rhys, a glare on his face. The stone cold looked never leaving even as Rhys spoke to him.

“You can do the one thing that we all failed at. You can take care of Y/N and be there. Just promise that she comes to visit.” Rhys said, his voice broken as he said it.

“I will try my best. But you all betrayed her. You know she shouldn’t have gone on a mission in this state and yet you sent her anyway, now look where it’s gotten her.” Eris turned to look at Azriel. “And you, I didn’t want to tell her that I was her mate because I thought she deserved better than me. I thought maybe Y/N would be good with you, she loved you. But you broke her heart and now you’ve lost her for good. I will make this very clear shadowsinger. You are only allowed in my Court if your High Lord or High Lady is present, if not you are banned from entering the Autumn court even if you try to talk to Y/N. If you step foot on my court without either Rhys or Feyre present you will be killed.”

Eris looked at Rhys and Feyre who gave him a nod of understanding. Before Azriel could argue Eris winnowed out heading back to the Autumn Court to clean you up. Azriel looked at his High Lord and Lady.

“You’re going to honor what that male said?” Azriel asked, staring at the two.

“It’s not like we have a choice in the matter. I told you that she loved you, we all did and you ignored her when she was hurting. We all did, and none of us will ever be able to make up for that. But you should’ve told her that you didn’t like her that way. Instead you dragged her on like she was a lost puppy.” Rhys paused, taking control of the power inside himself. “I sensed that Eris was her mate and that’s why she came to the coronation for Eris. I shouldn’t have sent her on that mission but she needed to be with Eris and this was the only way, the only way for her to be truly happy. Because if she had done something I would’ve never forgiven myself and Eris would’ve never forgiven us. We would lose an ally for any future war. So yes, Feyre and I will be honoring what he has asked. You will not step foot on Autumn land unless one or both of us is with you. If you go against our orders your fate will be left in Eris’ hands.”

“Fine.” Azriel stormed out leaving to figure out what had just happened.

───── ❝ ◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸ ❞ ─────

You woke up a few days later. When you came to you looked around the room until your eyes fell on your mate. He was sitting in a chair, asleep. You groaned slightly as you lifted yourself up from the bed. Eris opened his eyes and found you staring at him.

“Hello, little fox.” He whispered, a smirk gracing his lips.

“How long have I been out?” You asked quickly, smiling internally at the nickname. You still weren’t ready to accept it but it was starting to win you over, especially after he had rescued you.

“A week. I had a healer take a look at the injuries you got on that mission. They were healed.” He answered. You eyed him as he stood from the chair and walked over to the bed, he sat down on the edge and reached for one of your hands.

“I’m sorry.” You looked away from him as the words left your lips.

“No. What happened is not your fault. Don’t apologize, I will always come to rescue you no matter what.” For the first time in 5 years you finally understood what it was like to have someone in your corner.

“What, um, what happened after I passed out?”

“Rhysand wants you to still visit. I told him I’d try my best but I know right now that’s not the best for you. I banned Azriel from my court, our court when you’re ready to run it by my side. He’s only allowed to step foot in this land if Rhysand or Feyre is with him. I will not let him hurt you again, ever.”

Your lips trembled, how could someone you’ve barely known done so much for you. Eris had done just that, had done enough to make sure you're safe and secure in your new home. You wished he’d show this side more to the other high lords, either way you were so lucky to call him your mate. Even if you hadn’t accepted it yet.

“Thank you.” Eris nodded his head, eventually he rested his forehead against yours and the two of you closed your eyes and enjoyed each other’s company.

───── ❝ ◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸ ❞ ─────

It had been a year since you’d left the Night Court and joined the Autumn Court. You became a part of the Autumn Court a month after your arrival, it had been tough to get used to but you eventually found peace. You had picked up a part time job as a librarian to keep you busy when Eris was away for his High Lord responsibilities.

After some time you and Eris had alone time. You had cooked a meal for him and that had been your way of accepting the mating bond. Two weeks later you had a mating ceremony for the Court. You married Eris and became High Lady of the Autumn Court. Word had been spread to the other courts, and you had received plenty of congratulations.

Even ones from those you used to consider friends. For the entire year you had managed to heal yourself with the help of your mate, your husband. And you were ready to forgive all of them including Azriel. Especially now that you would be a mother. Currently you sat in the bathing waters with a hand on your bump, you were 8 months along.

You couldn’t be more excited to get closer to the due date, to be able to welcome your child into the world. Eris was afraid when you had first told him. He was afraid he’d be like his father and torment the babe rather than love it. But you had constantly reminded him that this child would come into the world loved by two parents. You had made it clear to Eris that he was nothing like his father and he had shown that by changing his persona and being there throughout the pregnancy so far.

“How are my girls?” Eris questioned from the bathroom door. You pulled your attention from your bump and looked at the male you were happy to call your husband and mate.

“We’re fine. Very happy.” You paused, sending him a smile and a large amount of happiness down the bond, he of course smiled at you. Then he walked towards you holding his hand to you. You took it and he helped you from the tub. “Must I remind you that we are going to have a son.” Your smile only brightened. You were certain you’d have a son first, where Eris was certain you’d have a daughter first.

“We shall know when our child comes into this world.”

“And it’ll be the happiest day to be able to hold him or her in our arms.” Eris rested his head on yours. The two of you take in each other's emotions. Finally you parted and helped you get changed into a dress that had been altered to fit your growing bump. You two stood in front of the mirror, Eris had his hands resting on your stomach, yours were on top of his.

“Are you ready for tonight?” He asked, concerning washing from his lips.

“I am. This is a great way to announce the pregnancy of our first heir. And it’ll be good for me to forgive them. It’s the last step in my recovery and I need to do this.” You explained to him.

“Okay. If at any point you get overwhelmed-”

“I know, tell you and we can leave.” You said cutting him off.

“Exactly.” He watched as you turned around in his arms and stared up at him.

“Azriel is no longer banned from our Court.” Your words caught him off guard but he knew to expect them.

“Are you positive?”

“Yes, if he wishes to visit without Feyre and Rhys then he should be able to. I don’t love him anymore and I’m no longer bothered by the way he treated me and the fact that he didn’t love me. Without him I wouldn’t have found you, I wouldn’t be growing our child. I wouldn’t have the family I was always supposed to have. It’s because of him that I get to love you and will continue to love until the Mother decides it’s my time to leave. Azriel is the reason behind all of this and it’s not fair to keep him from our Court.”

Eris smiled at your words. “Very well. My High Lady has a say in his punishment and if that’s what you are okay with then I will stand by your side as you tell them.” You gave a small shake of your head. “Now we have guests waiting for us, I don’t think we should keep them waiting.”

“No we shouldn’t.”

You interlaced your fingers with your husband’s and the two of you walked out of your chambers heading to the throne room where the other High Lords and High Ladies waited. You’d even known Tamlin would be there. He was still making amends for what he did in the past but a few months ago you’d learned that the Spring Lord had discovered his mate.

She had been helping Tamlin with his recovery and helping him to be a better male. Lucien had been able to build his friendship with the male again, and you were there to help. You were also there when Lucien found out that Helion was his father. Everyone was healing and you couldn’t be more proud of the things all of you had accomplished since Eris had taken over as the High Lord in Autumn.

With you by his side things were moving in the direction they needed. The doors opened for the two of you, instantly eyes fell onto you and Eris. Your grip on your mate's hand got tighter as the two of you walked past your guest heading towards your throne. He squeezed back, assuring you that everything was okay.

Keeping your head held high, you had a hand resting on your bump protectively as the other High Lords and Ladies and the guest they might’ve brought with them stared at your bump. After making it to the steps you and Eris turned looking at everyone.

“My wife and I wanted to thank you all for being here. Please enjoy the food, drinks, and have fun dancing.” Eris said, a smile on his face. Everyone was still getting used to this new side of Eris but they trusted you, and because they trusted you they could trust him.

Eris helped you sit down on the throne, then he took a seat on the armrest next to you. Rhysand and Feyre walked up with Azriel behind them but at a distance.

“Y/N. It’s so good to see you again.” Feyre stated with a smile on her lips. You smiled back.

“You’re glowing.” Rhysand added.

“Thank you. Eris and I are so excited to meet our little bundle in the coming weeks.” You said, briefly glancing at Azriel. He was staring at you.

“How have you been?” Feyre proceeded to ask.

“I’m doing better.” You looked to Eris, he gave you a nod and squeezed your shoulder softly. You reached for his hand and held it in your hands. Azriel took note of the wedding bands that were on your left hand. He noticed Eris had one too. “I actually wanted to discuss the banning of your Shadowsinger from our court.”

“We apologize if this has caused any discomfort for you.” Rhysand said, his violet eyes switching between you and Eris.

“No it hasn’t. Firstly I’m sorry that it’s taking me so long to speak with all of you. I was in pain and was trying to heal. Eris, he’s helped a lot in my healing journey. And so has our child. I’d like to have family dinners with you again, as long as Eris is welcome.”

Feyre and Rhysand glanced at each other, you know they were having a silent conversation with each other. Finally they looked back at you and Eris.

“We’d like that very much.” Feyre said with a soft smile on her face. You released a breath, Eris sent a wave of love down the bond. You knew he was proud of you and it was showing.

“Secondly, Azriel, could you please step forward so that I may speak with you.”

He gave a nod and moved in between Feyre and Rhysand until he was in front of them. His shadows were moving around his body, he seemed happier as you looked at him. Maybe some kind of change had come his way after you’d left. You knew he wasn’t with Elain because she was with Lucien right now.

A few months ago she had accepted the bond between them after she herself had found what made her happy. She learned to accept the bond and with it Lucien. You’d hoped that maybe Azriel had found his mate too.

“I know that you were never in love with me the way I was. I only wished you’d told me how you felt. That being said, thank you.”

“Thank you?” Azriel asked, hazel eyes narrowing in you as confusion filled his normally emotionless face. Feyre and Rhysand also stared at you with confused looks.

“If you had told me that you loved me I would’ve never found my mate. I wouldn’t be married to Eris, I wouldn’t be High Lady of Autumn, it’s still a shock even now. And I wouldn’t be carrying our child right now. Because of you I found everything I needed. I found my home, my purpose. I learned to heal myself even after everything I’ve gone through. I hope that you find a mate one day.”

Azriel took a moment to process your words. “I have, she’s wonderful.” He said. He turned slightly looking at Rhys. Then he looked back at you and Eris. “She’s here, would you like to meet her?”

You nodded enthusiastically, years ago you would’ve been sad and jealous that he hadn’t noticed you but now it was different. Now you were happy and you could see that he had to.

“Will you help me up, dear?” You asked, looking at Eris. He smiled at you.

“Of course, little fox.” You smiled at the nickname as he helped you from the seat.

The two of you walked down the steps. When you were close enough you pulled Feyre into a hug. She hugged you back tightly. Then you moved over to Rhysand and hugged him tightly. Seconds later Azriel came back with a female by his side. Cassian, Nesta, Amren and Mor were also with him.

“They wanted to see you too.” Azriel mentioned. Hugs went around quickly, then your eyes landed on the female Azriel had brought over. You took a closer look at her and noticed the bright blue eyes. “This is Gwyneth, my mate.” The smile that broached his face made you happy. Lucien and Elain joined at some point, he sent a nod towards you and Eris.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from everyone.” She said, holding her hand out towards you.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” You told her your name as you shook her hand. “Eris is my mate, and this is our little bean.” You said holding onto your bump. Eris was behind you with a smile on his face.

“A happy reunion. Does this mean you’ll come visit now?” Mor asked eyes on you.

“Yes it does. And you are more than welcome to visit here as much as you like.” You paused looking at Azriel as sadness seemed to cross his face for a brief moment. “None of that.” You said.

“What?” Azriel asked you.

“Azriel, Shadowsinger, you are hereby welcomed back to the Autumn court whenever you please. You’re no longer banned from our home.”

“And you’re okay with this?” Azriel asked, looking at the High Lord.

“My High Lady’s word is power and if she grants it then we are to follow it.” Eris answered.

“Very well.”

Relief washed over you when Azriel accepted your request. “Let’s enjoy this party, shall we?” You said pulling your husband towards the dance floor. The others followed behind you. As you danced with your family you looked up at Eris.

“Are you happy?” He asked spinning you around and pulling you back to his chest.

“So happy.” You answered, resting your head on his chest.

“Good. You deserve it.”

───── ❝ ◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸ ❞ ─────

A few weeks later you and Eris welcomed your son into the world. Currently you held onto the sleeping babe as your friends started to arrive at your home to meet the newborn. You looked down at your son, truly content with the life you had right now. You could hear the laughter in your home and it had been so long since you felt a part of it.

Azriel made his way up to you first, Eris allowing you time to talk to him. You looked at the Shadowsinger when he came to a stop next to you. A smile graced your lips when he looked down at your son.

“Would you like to hold him, Az?” You asked, using a nickname you hadn’t used in a long time.

“I’d be honored, Y/N.” He smiled brightly. You leaned forward shifting the babe into Azriel’s arms. His scarred hands tightened, as he held onto the babe. His shadows moved towards the babe, almost as if they were protecting your son.

“I think you’d make a fine Uncle.” You said, lifting your gaze to Azriel. He was staring at you with shock in his hazel eyes. “I don’t want what happened in the past to define our future. Nova, he deserves to have a happy family. And I want you to be a part of that just as much as everyone else that’s here.”

“As long as I can teach him how to fight.” Azriel said excitedly.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less, but Nova has a few years before he’s ready for that.”

“Very well.” As the night moved on and everyone met Nova you realized that it had been so long since you felt this content, this happy. You had your new family and your old family.

“You deserve to be happy, don’t forget that my love.” Eris said in your mind as a wave of love flew down the bond.

“How can I forget when you're constantly reminding me?” You remarked with a smile.

“And I’ll continue to remind you until the Mother decides to take me away from you. But I promise that I’ll find you in every lifetime.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[jnkgrnde]

— confessions, confessions, clarisse la rue, pjo

summary — in which, ever since you’ve arrived at camp, clarisse has seen you as her number one enemy. who would’ve known she’d make it so much more complicated than what it is.

pairings — clarisse la rue x black!fem!reader (daughter of athena)

content included — clarisse being flirty, clarisse using nicknames, eventual making out, uhh thats ab it

gods, you hated her.

her and her gorgeous face and pretty smile and soft hair. you hated her. hated her beautiful laugh and fierce eyes and her winning attitude.

and she hated you just as much.

you and your pretty laugh and your soft skin and the way you always have a plan. how you managed to up her whenever she had something smart to say.

she hated it.

it was capture the flag day. this year, chiron had switched some people from different teams; you had moved to the red team. clarisse’s team. you dragged your feet over to the team as she was explaining the plan.

“finally decided to join us, angel?” she used the nickname mockingly, but it still made your heart speed up a bit. you rolled your eyes, walking over and standing in the circle. clarisse let her eyes linger on you before continuing to talk.

she finished explaining the plan, and surprisingly enough, you were going to be with her a majority of the time. the conch sounded, signaling the start of the game.

“y/n, c’mere.” you jogged over to her. “is there a reason why we’re not with everyone else?” she just smirked. “just need you to keep guard, princess.” you scoffed at this. “so i couldn’t have had a better job?”

“what, you don’t like being around me?” she mocked. “you always have something to say, la rue. why would i?” truth be told, you did like being around her. not that you’d ever admit it, but she gave you a fuzzy feeling inside. “could’ve helped you, y’know, win the game if you’d just put me near the flag.” you tried to reason.

“hm, no. think you’d be better guarding with me.” clarisse teased. “well you know you’re capable by yourself, so-“ clarisse placed her hand over your mouth to shush you, putting her finger to her lips. she squatted behind some bushes, you following her.

there went some members of the blue team, luke nowhere to be seen. you knew he usually went with chris to play offense for the team. you and clarisse watched the team, studying their positions. “you got a magic weapon, right? the one that makes you invisible?” she asked you. “‘course i do.” “need you to use that. make a distraction.” you brought out your enchanted dagger, willing it to make you invisible.

you snuck around, stepping on some branches to try and get their attention. heads snapped towards your direction. “who’s there?” clarisse stepped around slowly, watching them. she let out a battle cry, going in to fight them. it was 3 against 1, but for clarisse it was nothing.

while she was dealing with them, you snuck around to get the flag. once you got it, you ran as fast as you could back to base. “HEY!” you heard yelling, but you kept running. clarisse watched you with a smile before realizing what she was doing and screwed her face back up.

before one of the campers could run after you, she tackled them to the ground. the others ran after you while clarisse screamed at you to run.

you ran as fast as your legs could carry you, jumping over tree branches and stumps. you could hear the running behind you, so you came up with a plan last second. you turned a random way, near some thick bushes before continuing to run. you didn’t think about anything but making it back to your post.

finally, the sight of your teams area came into view. the first person who spotted you was one of clarisse’s brothers. “she’s got the flag!” he yelled out. you reached the rock, short of breath, chest hurting, but you made it.

the conch blew, signaling that the game was over, and your team erupted into cheer. clarisse came out of the woods, a grin on her face. she cheered with her teammates before coming over to you. “good job, princess.”

your face burned from the nickname. you mumbled out a thank you while clarisse snickered beside you.

she was having fun with this.

“spar with me.”

“what?”

clarisse came over to where you were sitting in the dining pavilion, reading a book. “you heard me. i need a sparring partner.” she told you. “why me?” “so i can feel the glory of beating you, pretty girl.”

gods, when was she going to stop with these nicknames?

you raised an eyebrow. “and you’re sure none of your other siblings wanted to spar?” clarisse just shrugged. “don’t know. didn’t care to ask them. just spar with me.” you mulled over your options before sighing dramatically.

“fine. just go easy, la rue.” “can’t promise that, angel.” she grinned.

coming to terms with the fact you probably liked clarisse la rue out of all people was something you absolutely refused to do. not only was she cocky, but she had this overwhelming urge to want to beat you and everyone else in everything just because she can.

but another part of you couldn’t help but acknowledge how caring she could be towards specific people. like her younger siblings, who she was around quite often to help them train and get better. how she cared for her siblings in general, how she always checked up on her friends. it made your heart yearn for her in ways you didn’t expect.

what also made you yearn for her was the nicknames and the way she looked at you, but that’s a story for a different time.

you two made it to the sparring range. “we can use two weapons right? or are you strict about sparring too?” you asked her. “and what’s that supposed to mean?” she questioned. you shrugged. “just figured since you’re the daughter of the war god and all, you’d wanna have a specific way.”

clarisse rolled her eyes and couldn’t help but chuckle at the statement. that’s what she liked about you — you always had something to say, a comeback for her every time she got something smart out. it’s also why she ‘hated’ you so much, because you always had to one-up her.

“no specific way, princess. just try to pin me to the ground.” she told you. you hummed, pulling your dagger from your belt loop. you two decided to not go with any armor, seeing as this was just a quick match. “you ready, la rue, or do you still wanna spend time with your spear?” you mocked. “don’t bite off more than you can chew, pretty girl.”

you walked around eachother in circles for a few seconds before you willed your dagger to make you disappear. clarisse knew that was going to happen, though. she was calculated like that. what you didn’t know was that she was very attentive, which meant she could see and almost hear the dirt as you moved.

“not good at sneaking around over here, pretty girl.” she murmured. she sped up her movements before attempting to tackle you to the ground. she did tackle you, but you put up a fight. this went on until you finally managed to pin her to the ground. you became visible, a triumphant grin on your face.

“got you, la rue.” you pointed out, but she didn’t say anything back. in fact, her face was starting to turn a shade of red. she looked at you with uncertainty, like she was restraining herself from doing something. you realized the position you were in, and you tried getting up as you mumbled out a sorry, but clarisse planted one hand on your waist.

“where are you going, smart girl?” she asked. you looked into her eyes, your heart feeling like it was about to beat out of your chest. you swallowed harshly. her hand crept up to your shirt, gripping the cloth. she slowly brought you down to her. “what are you doing, la rue?”

clarisse ignored you, instead choosing to bring you down to her lips. it was shocking, slow at first, until it turned frantic between the both of you. unsaid confessions and yearning were expressed through your lips. you both came up for air when it became too much. she let out a breathy laugh while you started to smile.

“how long have you been wanting to do that, la rue?”

[venus-haze]

Watch Honey Drip, Can't Keep Away (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: America’s golden son can't keep his eyes off of you, almost like he wants to devour you whole...or something like that.

Note: Female reader, but no descriptors are used. This is kind of in the same universe as She’s Out To Please, She Pouts Her Best. I know generally men in the ‘40s, let alone Soldier Boy of all people, wouldn’t really consider going down on a woman, but it’s my fic and I get to decide he eats out. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Period typical misogyny, power imbalance. Explicit sexual content involving masturbation and oral sex (f. receiving). Do not interact if you’re under 18.

“Which city are we going to next?” you asked, finally comfortable in the swanky hotel room in Chicago you were roomed in with three other girls from the troupe. Soldier Boy’s Sparkling Sweethearts. People came from miles around to show their patriotism–and get a look-see at the acts. If it weren’t Soldier Boy, it was you and the other Sweethearts. Something for everyone, really. Even in places like–

“Wichita.”

A collective groan filled the space, littered with makeup and dresses that’d inevitably shoved into suitcases in a hurry the moment of checkout. There were more important things to worry about than being organized.

“Better than wherever the hell we were last week. Couldn’t get enough of us on Saturday, and then nearly ran us out with pitchforks after the preacher was through with them Sunday morning.”

“I’m going down to the bar while we’re still in a hotel that has one,” you said. “I’ll be back later.”

“Not if Soldier Boy’s there.” A giggle tore through the room. “Did you see him earlier? He looked like he could eat you alive.”

You weren’t even supposed to have been up there with Soldier Boy during his act, a routine that showed off his powers and preceded his usual rousing speech to get the American public to open their hearts and wallets to the war bonds drive. But Darla had broken her leg while ice skating on a day off in Milwaukee, and Soldier Boy had specifically asked for you to fill her spot.

Your role involved memorizing a few lines from a script and looking pretty while Soldier Boy understandably took the lead, but your “rehearsal” just hours before was little more than going through your lines once before Soldier Boy poured you a shot to “calm your nerves” and spent the following fifteen minutes fucking your mouth before sending you off to get ready for the show. 

Walking up on that stage again after your usual routine with the Sparkling Sweethearts was nerve-wracking. Though you knew what to expect, you still felt like your heart was going to pop out of your chest every time he lifted you above his head or tossed you up in the air and caught you, to the raucous applause and cheers of the Chicagoans and celebrities who’d packed the theater to see him.

“Betty Grable’s in town, so I think she’s the main course,” you said as you left, closing the door behind you and leaving your coworkers to tease you in private.

Among the various hobbies you’d taken up since becoming a Sparkling Sweetheart, people-watching in hotel bars was one of your favorites. He would almost always be there too, an otherworldly presence with an abundance of movers and shakers rotating in his orbit, unable to resist the pull of America’s golden son.

Some of the girls in the troupe didn’t care for him, found him too brash and handsy. You could think of at least one who’d been unceremoniously replaced after loudly complaining one too many times. No one really knew what the extent of his powers were, but after that incident, you suspected enhanced hearing might be among them. Or someone was just a snitch. 

When you stepped into the bar, a quick scan of the room revealed Betty Grable to be nowhere in sight. You didn’t see Soldier Boy either, until a deep voice wrapped around you like velvet.

“There’s my girl.”

“Who, me?” you asked teasingly.

“‘Course you are, honey.”

“Because I heard Betty Grable’s in town—“

He scoffed. “That broad? Who needs her?”

Your chest filled with pride at his statement. She was the pin-up girl of choice for every GI in Europe and the Pacific. Well, almost all of them. His arm settled around your waist as he told the bartender to give you whatever you wanted. The overhead lights in the bar were nice and low, you felt warm beneath Soldier Boy’s gaze. Being the object of his attention always carried weight. He was the world’s first superhero, after all. A living legend. Plenty of other women he could be spending his time with besides you.

Pressing your lips to his cheek, you whispered a ‘thank you’ for the drink, taking in the way he licked his lips, his handsome face so close to yours, still under the slight cover of the shadows. Whoever decided a helmet that covered half of his face would be part of his costume needed serious help. 

“Y’know, if you hadn’t come down here, I might’ve gone up to your room and dragged you out,” he said, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “It’s like you were shakin’ your ass just for me on that stage.”

“It’s called shimmying, and I’m glad you liked it.”

“I was thinking, how about you replace Darla for my act?”

“Permanently?”

“Sure, we’ve got great chemistry,” he said, squeezing your hip, “on and off stage.”

As the night progressed, your conversations with Soldier Boy were interrupted by the slew of people who recognized him, excitedly introducing themselves and asking for a few minutes of his time. He graciously accepted with a ‘You don’t mind, right honey?’ And you shook your head, watching him humor politicians, business moguls, and socialites.

You smiled when the latest one had made their departure, tilting your head the slightest bit. “Do you even remember what my name is?”

“Honey suits you better,” he said, his tongue darting out between his lips. “Bet you taste like it too.”

“You sure?”

“Only one way to find out.”

“I guess so.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple, passing you his room key. “You go make yourself comfortable while I close out my tab.” 

As if he’d even be paying for the drinks himself. It’d probably be billed to the Department of Defense, or that strange company that sponsored the tour. You didn’t pay much attention to who was signing your checks, just that they cashed out when you brought them to the bank.

You balked at his hotel room, far more space than a single man could possibly need. Then again, he rarely spent his nights alone. 

Comfortable. Ridding yourself of your clothes, you climbed into the giant bed, pulling the covers just over your breasts. As you laid back on the plush pillows, you recalled earlier that day when he had swatted your ass as you walked off stage after your act with him was finished, playing it off as a joke to the crowd who cheered and whistled. The simple yet slightly painful gesture had gone straight through you, however, and you worried that there’d be a noticeable wet spot on your satin panties when you and the other Sparkling Sweethearts returned for one last routine to close out the show, your high kicks telling on you.

Biting your lip, you glanced at the door and slipped a hand between your legs. He had only said to make yourself comfortable, nothing specifically about waiting. Gently prodding two fingers against your pussy, you weren’t surprised to find that you were wet already. Your eyes fluttered shut as you pushed your fingers inside, thinking about how his hands felt on you earlier. Strong and steady, big hands that could break you so easily but didn’t.

“Couldn’t wait?” He stood at the end of the bed, fully clothed with his arms folded over his broad chest as he pinned you in place with his disapproving glare.

You gasped, pulling your hand from between your legs. “I was just–”

He clicked his tongue at you, though his eyes betrayed his amusement. “My fault for keeping you waiting too long, doll.”

Soldier Boy joined you on the bed, pulling back the covers you’d pulled over your bare body. He pressed his lips against yours, kissing you with an overwhelming fireceness as he groped your breasts, squeezing down your stomach to your hips and finally your thighs. His lips followed that same path, kissing and biting along your skin that suddenly felt feverish beneath his touch. Still, your pussy ached for him, especially since he had walked in while you were pleasuring yourself, but he wasn’t paying any mind to it.

Until he dipped his head down, licking your wet cunt. In your shock, you pushed your thighs together, as if his intrusion were unwelcome. 

His strong hands held your legs apart, gently squeezing the tender flesh. “I jerked off thinking about this earlier, but nothin' like the real thing, huh?”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes focused on the ornate ceiling. Gold leafing, a Renaissance-esque painting, surely Soldier Boy didn’t care much about that. 

“Eyes on me, honey. You got that?”

Immediately, you looked at him, his blazing green stare burning through you until you nodded. He wasted no time in burying his face between your legs, his tongue flicking against your clit with such force that you realized you had no idea what getting eaten out by a superhero would actually entail. 

He lapped at your pussy with an insatiable fervor that made your legs shake beneath his steady grip. Your moan caught in your throat when he plunged his tongue deeper into you, his nose brushing that sensitive bundle of nerves he’d already teased. 

A whine tore from your throat when he pulled away for a moment, smugly admiring your glistening sex. His lips appeared coated in your juices, and you nearly came at that sight alone.

“Fuck you’re soaked,” he growled appreciatively. “This all for me?”

Who else? As if any other man could make you feel pleasure so intensely, as if that were yet another superpower of his. For a moment you bemoaned a possible future of unsatisfying sex with some regular old Joe–not America’s hero, its fucking sex symbol. But all you could manage was a weak, “Yes.”

Satisfied with your response, he closed his plush lips over your clit, sucking on it like he was pulling from a cigarette, your arousal burning deep in his lungs. You grabbed at the sheets, digging your hands into them as you grind your pussy against his face. Your eyes fluttered shut for a split second, shooting open when he smacked your thigh. Eyes on me.

“Fuck—Soldier Boy,” you moaned. “‘m close.”

He growled against you, the vibrations from his throat edging you closer to orgasm. His inhuman stamina meant he hadn’t given you much of a break since he lowered his face between your thighs. He’d been content to tease you for a while, but he seemed more focused, intentional with the way he ate you out, his attention especially focused on your clit. 

You could feel it, that tightness in your abdomen that was about to snap. Involuntarily, your eyes fluttered shut, and you were on that stage again, in his big arms, bright lights blaring as you stared dreamily at him. Then he threw you in the air, higher and higher until you came back down and–

“Soldier Boy, oh my god–don’t fucking stop,” you pleaded, riding out your orgasm on his face.

His hands held down your bucking hips, your ecstasy overpowered by his determination to bring you over the edge until you were an incoherent mess, muscles aching at the exertion of each orgasm despite him doing all of the work. Light-headed, seeing stars, you reached down, tugging at his hair. That was it. You were tapping out. Mercy.

He granted such, though he pressed sloppy kisses to your inner thighs, nipping at the tender skin. All you could give him was weak moans in return. If you expected to be able to go anywhere else the rest of the night, he’d made damn well sure you couldn’t so much as move from his bed. Maybe that was the idea.  

Your breath caught in your throat when he lifted his head, wiping his glistening lips with the back of his hand, though the evidence of your orgasms was still all over the rest of his face. He kissed you, the foreign taste of yourself filling your mouth, sending a deliciously obscene rush through you. His mouth broke from yours, just for a moment, as he whispered your name against your lips. You realized you didn’t actually know his.

[reputationmunson]

Delicate | S.H x fem!reader

summary: Steve can’t figure out why he’s so upset that you, his best friend, is going on a date until Robin gives him a reality check

content: fluff, friends to lovers, use of y/n, she/her pronouns, probably too cheesy and cliche

word count: 2.9K

a/n: honestly i didn’t have the energy to proofread this sorry for any mistakes!

_

Every Friday night, you and Steve can be found watching a movie in his basement, curled up on the couch with every snack imaginable scattered around you. Yes, it’s simple, maybe even mundane to some, but there’s nowhere else the two of you would rather be. 

Steve has been your best friend since you were nine. You’d stuck by each other through everything. Even during his ‘king steve’ phase, you never strayed from him. Sure, things were different at that time, but you knew the sweet boy you met on the playground was still in there somewhere. He just needed someone to coax that side of him back out and that person just happened to be you. 

Everyone always speculated you two were more than friends. Your parents constantly joked that in a few years you’d be married with a house full of kids. Your friends always referred to you as ‘Mr. and Mrs. Harrington’, the kids called you ‘mom and dad’. Neither of you would correct anyone, but would laugh about it instead. 

Despite what literally everyone in your life thinks, nothing romantic has ever happened between the two of you. Sure, you were both touchy and cuddly, but that’s normal between two best friends. You also might’ve had a crush on him freshman year of high school, but quickly got over it when you realized those feelings would never be reciprocated. But, you were so wrong, you just didn’t know it yet. Neither did Steve. 

By the time the credits of the movie roll, you're half asleep with your head resting on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around you. You’ve never thought of the cuddling between you as being romantic. You just always felt so comfortable with Steve and he felt the same way around you. He had a way about him that made you feel safe and secure, like every time you were with him nothing bad could happen. 

“Hey” Steve whispers, his hand gently rubbing up and down your arm “do you wanna stay tonight?” 

“Mmhmm” you nod your head and look at him with a sleepy smile. “I’ll help you clean up” you offer and he shakes his head “We’ll clean up tomorrow. Who would steal all the blankets if you passed out from exhaustion down here?” he teases and you playfully roll your eyes and follow him up to his bedroom. “You’re the blanket thief and you know it, Harrington” 

You and Steve have shared a bed more times than you can count.  You’d fall asleep in his arms and wake up with your bodies intertwined. Sometimes, when he thinks you’re still asleep, he’ll press a soft kiss to your forehead. Which is normal for two people who were just friends… isn’t it?

“So, we got this move in at family video that looks super cheesy and awful. Wanna watch it tomorrow night?” he asks as you climb into bed next to him. “Oh, I meant to tell you about this earlier but I’m going on a date tomorrow!” you sound excited and he knows it sounds awful, but for some reason that makes his stomach churn. He tries to play it cool, anyway. 

“A date, huh? Who ya ditchin’ me for, babe?” babe. He always calls you ‘babe’ or ‘honey’ or any sickeningly sweet pet name that never fails to make you feel flustered. “Brad Mckinley” you tell him and Steve has to hold back a scoff. 

Brad McKinley? That asshole? Steve can’t believe you’d give him a second of your time, let alone a date. 

“Really? He’s like a huge douchebag” 

“How do you know? you go on a date with him?” you taunt. 

“He wishes he could get a date with a babe like me. But, c’mon, seriously? He comes into the store all the time with a new girl on his arm and always acts like he’s, I don’t know, better than me. When did he even ask you out?” 

“A few days ago. We were both at the supermarket and I almost ran into him in the parking lot with my shopping cart, so I apologized and he said he’d forgive me if I went on a date with him. I thought that was cute and thought he was ever cuter, so i said yes” 

Wow, what a line, Steve thinks to himself. “Isn’t he known for having sex with girls and never talking to them again?”

“Steve, this is the first date I'm going on in forever. I don’t really get asked out often. Can’t you be happy for me?” 

You do get asked out often, just not directly. Sometimes you and Steve will be out somewhere and guys will come up to him and once he says you aren’t his girlfriend, they try to get him to be his wingman. Steve always comes up with an excuse so they don’t talk to you, but now when you aren’t around, he’s started telling them that you are his girlfriend. He tells himself he only does it to protect, not because he wants you to be his girlfriend. That would be crazy. 

“If you’re happy then I am, I guess. Anyways, i’m like super fucking tired. let’s go to bed” you can’t tell if his tone is from being upset or tired, but you brush it off and close your eyes after curling up to him and telling him goodnight. 

Steve doesn’t sleep much that night. He’s too worried about you. You’re loving and shy. Soft spoken and kind. Sometimes too kind. He worries your kindness might be taken advantage of and he refuses to let that happen. Ever.

_ 

Saturday rolls around and Steve has been sulking all day. He was a little awkward with you this morning before you left. You tried to ask him multiple times if he was okay before you left and he blamed his behavior on being tired, so you let it go. When you left, he told you to have fun on your date, but it came out more sarcastic than intended. 

“What is your deal, dude? You have a look on your face like someone stuck a lemon in your mouth while you were sleeping” Robin says and Steve’s brows furrow more than they have been all day. “What the hell does that even mean?”

“It means that you’re acting weird. Weirder than usual” she states and Steve sighs “y/n is going on a date” 

“And that’s a problem because you’re in love with her? Right?”

“I am not in love with her! She’s going on a date with Brad Mckinley and I’m just worried about her. As a friend” He adds the last part to make himself perfectly clear, but Robin still isn’t convinced. “You’re jealous” she states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Which it is to everyone, but Steve. 

“That’s crazy. She’s my best friend”

“No. I’m your best friend. She’s your girlfriend without the label”

“That’s ridiculous. She-” Steve starts to defend himself, but Robin interrupts him. “No, it’s not. Just think about it, okay? You two cuddle all the time, you hold her hand when she’s feeling nervous, and you let her touch your precious hair but if anyone else tried to do that you’d swat their hand away. That’s all boyfriend and girlfriend stuff. She even sits on your lap, your lap, Steve.” 

He’s left speechless. He’s not in love with you, is he? Steve knows his friendship with you isn’t as conventional as others, but neither of you thought it was unusual. If anything, it would be unnatural if there were no innocent touches between the two of you or glances at each other from across the room that resulted in what can only be described as lovesick smiles. Steve thinks he’d die if he could never hold you again the way he does now. But, you’re going on a date. With someone else. 

This guy could end up being your boyfriend who will get to be the one to hold you, you’ll play with his hair, and grab his hand in a crowded room when you’re feeling overwhelmed and Steve will have to watch from the sidelines, wishing that was him. Fuck, he wants that to be him. Forever. 

“Holy shit, you’re realizing it aren’t you?” Robin grins and Steve feels the past twelve years of feelings he’s repressed and dismissed come crashing down on him all at once. He’s been so hopelessly and desperately in love with you all this time and it terrifies him. You are the best thing that's ever happened to him. What if he loses you? He couldn’t bear not having you in his life. He’d never recover. 

“Holy shit” he breathes out “I love her. I’m fucking in love with her. Why didn’t you guys tell me!” he shouts. Good thing the store was dead. “We thought you knew!” she shouts back. “You have to tell her. Like, immediately” 

“I can’t do that” he grumbles, feeling defeated before he’s already tried. “What if she doesn’t feel the same? I mean, I know she doesn’t. There's no way”

“You cannot be that much of an idiot. Do you not see the way she looks at you? You should hear the way she talks about you when you’re not around. Last week when you were late to the get together because you had to work, she was all worried and kept asking what time it was. We could literally talk about ice cubes and she’d find a way to relate the story to you. It’s kinda nauseating, but cute, too” 

“You really think she feels the same way?” Steve lights up at the thought of there being even a one percent chance that you love him the way he loves you. “It’s sort of hard to not pick up on when I’ve been watching you idiots make heart eyes at each other every time we all hang out. When does she leave for her date?” Steve checks his watch “An hour. I don’t get off work for three hours, so that’s just great” he complains. 

“I’ll cover for you. Go get your girl”

_ 

Steve races to your house. Speed limit be damned, he’s not letting anything stop him. His shaky hands grip the steering wheel and he’s so nervous that he’s debated stopping a couple times to puke on the side of the road. 

What is he even going to say to you? ‘Hey, I know you’re going on a date but I’ve been in love with you for most of my life. Wanna be my girlfriend?’yeah, that’s not gonna cut it. You deserve flowers, or a poem, or a goddamn flashmob, but, unfortunately, he doesn’t exactly have the time to get a group together for a choreographed dance that declares his feelings, so he’ll have to rely on speaking from the heart. That shouldn’t be too difficult…right?

Despite being on a time limit, he’s been sitting outside your house for ten minutes. He can’t seem to move. The fear of rejection and all of this happening so fast has his head spinning. Robin's words echo in his mind and he musters up just enough courage to find his way to your front door, knocking frantically. 

“Steve? Shouldn’t you be at work?” your voice is shaky and your eyes are red. You’ve been crying. He’s going to fucking kill that guy. “y/n, what’s wrong?” his eyes soften and his heart constricts. You invite him inside and he follows you to the living room, taking a seat next to you.

“Um, Brad cancelled our date because Missy Tucker asked him out” you laugh, humourlessly. Steve is furious and hates to see you upset, but he can’t help but take this as a sign. Here he was, prepared to stop you from going on that date and all along the universe was on his side. He’s gonna have to send Missy Tucker a thank you card right after he eggs Brad’s beloved car. 

“Shit, babe. I’m sorry.” his arm drapes around your shoulder and you melt into his touch. “It’s fine. I didn’t think he was my soulmate or anything. I just wanted to feel pretty and wanted, I guess” you nervously fiddle with Steve’s hand, feeling embarrassed at your admission. 

Steve gently grabs your hand, giving it a soft squeeze. “You are pretty and you are wanted” 

“I don’t think I am” you whisper. “Are you kidding? You’re the prettiest girl in Hawkins. Shit, probably the world. The nicest, too. You’re always there for me, even when I was an asshole and I don’t know if I’ve ever even thanked you for that. Oh, and you’re funny too, like in a really witty way ‘cause you’re so smart-”

“Steve” you interrupt his endearing ramble “thank you, but you have to say those things. You’re my best friend” 

He positions himself on the couch so he can look at you, putting his hand under your chin to tilt your head up so he can see your beautiful eyes. When he looks at you, it’s like he's seeing you for the first time. You aren’t just the girl he met a recess that’s been attached to his hip ever since. You’re the girl that makes him feel on top of the world whenever he’s with you. You’re the girl whose touch makes him putty in your hands. You’re who he sees a future with and he can’t believe it took him this long to figure out. 

“Best friend or not, it’s true. All of it” he promises. “Then why has no one ever loved me? Like, been in love with me.”

“You’re wrong” he insists. “Like, really wrong” he huffs out a laugh and you give him a puzzled expression. “When you told me about your date I felt kinda weird about it and I thought I was just being a good friend, ya know? But I think it’s more than that…” 

You feel like you’ve stopped breathing. Is he going to say what you think he is? You never thought that he’d feel this way about you. You always believe the feelings you held for him were one-sided, so you pushed it down and replaced them with gentle touches and acts of kindness in hopes that maybe those things could lead to more, but they never did. Not until now. 

“What do you mean?” you ask softly. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“I want you to tell me. I need to hear it, Steve. Please” 

He takes a deep breath before speaking up again “I wanna give you the huge declaration you deserve. Something like standing outside your window with a boombox and a dozen flowers that are as pretty as you, but I don’t have any of that. I could sing though, if you want?” he jokes and you giggle. “Not necessary. I, um, could go first if you’re nervous” you suggest, even though you don’t think you’ve ever been so nervous in your life. “Yeah, I’d like that”

“I love you, Steve. In fact, I can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t love you. I don’t need an over the top announcement. I just need to know you feel the same way” You keep your confession simple because the only thing you want to do is shout from the top of your lungs how much you love him. 

“I love you too. So much that it’s crazy and scares me a little. I even accidentally flew past a stop sign on my way over here”

“You did not’’ you gasp. “I did and I’d do it again. For you” 

He’s looking at you like he has a million times before, but this time it’s different. His eyes flicker down to your lips and you do the same. “Can you kiss me, Stevie?” Fuck, he loves it when you call him that. It makes him weak in the knees, just like everything else that you do.

He lays a hand on your cheek and gives you the cutest grin you’ve ever seen. You both lean in and when he kisses you, you feel lightheaded and giddy. Neither of you can stop smiling, making it difficult to kiss and you both laugh. 

“Stop smiling, goof. I wanna kiss you” he whines. “I can’t help it! I’m too happy” you squeal and he practically tackles you, overwhelmed with joy. You lay on the couch with him on top of you, his weight slightly crushing you, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. “Wanna try again?” he nose nudges yours and you cradle his head to gently pull him closer to you as his lips glide over yours in a perfect balance. 

Of course, there’s sparks and fireworks, but you also feel at peace. This kiss feels like coming home. You’re right where you’ve always meant to be. 

“Do you wanna be my girl?” he asks once he slightly pulls back from you. His face is still very close to yours and you swear that his eyes are shimmering. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted” 

Steve tells you at least one hundred times that night that he loves you and you tell him the same. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of hearing or saying those three words. They just sound so beautiful being muttered in between endless kisses. 

_

the end

_

[punching-pentagrams]

Stolen Away

Here is the one shot for my first giveaway winner @hawke1917 ! Enjoy!

Lucifer x fem sinner reader

Word Count: 4.6 k

CW: Trauma, Anxiety, Kidnapping, Fluff, Fear, Hurt/Comfort, Angst Depictions of Violence, Torture

It was a relatively peaceful morning in Hell, you stood out on the balcony of your room that you shared with Lucifer and watched the residence below as you brushes out your hair. At some point you feel a hand on your arm, and you turn to she Lucifer smiling at you with loving eyes.

“May I?” he said, holding out a hand for the brush. You smiled and handed the brush to him, you loved how much he loved brushing your hair. You never wanted to make him feel obligated, but he always seemed to find you when you were brushing your hair or he would find times to play with it. And you were never upset by it because his touch was to die for.

Lucifer started to brush, “How are you this morning, my love?” he asked.

“I am doing well, it’s nice today, I like people-watching on days like this,” you smiled and sighed at the blissful sensory of Lucifer brushing through your hair. He blushed to see you so content at his touch. After a few minutes, he too looked out over the city.

“It is nice, isn’t it? Would you like to go out shopping with me in the city today?” he asked.

You turned and pulled him into a tender kiss, “Yes! I would love to. Let me go get ready.” You ran off to your closet, leaving Lucifer in a lovely daze on the balcony with the brush in his hand. He set down the brush and get himself ready as he waited for you. Along with his usual outfit, he also put on a necklace that you had gotten for him a few months ago as pet of a matching set. He wasn’t much of a jewelry guy but he loved matching with you or wearing things you got him.

You came out in a nice top and skirt with comfortable shoes for walking the city in, as well as the necklace than matched his own. Lucifer looked you over as you came out and gave you a dopey smile, “Hells you are beautiful.”

You giggled, “I feel a little underdressed next to you though,” you said, flicking the tip of his hat.

He looked down at himself and then as your sheepishly, “Is it too much? I can change!”

You took Lucifer’s hand, “No no! I was just teasing you, Luci. You look wonderful. Come on, let’s go out!”

You give him a kiss and start to pull Lucifer towards the door. You knew you had to get him going or else he would overthink that comment into an oblivion, you loved him so much but his anxiety and depression could just engulf him sometimes if he couldn’t get distracted fast enough. It was getting much better over time. But you still worried about it at times.

Before long, you and Lucifer make it down to the shops of the entertainment district of the Pride ring. It couldn’t be helped that you too would attract the stares and comments of the people of Hell, mostly people gawking and wanting to talk to Lucifer, which you understood, he was the King after all!

Some people also wanted to talk to you though, wondering how you snagged the King, some weird comments about you stealing him from Lilith, and then every once in a while you would get someone who just wanted to tear you down. Today was one of those days, because it wasn’t someone you could identify, just every once in a while you would hear a quick word or phrase. “Fake”, “sellout”, “homewrecker”, “slut”. They were all so spread out over the day that you didn’t really notice a pattern, Lucifer noticed one of the words on a more quiet part of the walk and got angry, shouting towards the sound, and you wrapped your arms around him to calm him down.

“Sweetheart, it’s ok, don’t feed into it, they just want to get a rise out of us,” you said calmly, holding his face.

“I know… I just hate that they are going after you. Lilith and I had an amicable split and she knows that I’m with you now. That should not be anyone else’s business,” he pouted.

You gave him a soft smile, “We are in hell baby, this is going to happen. Come on, let’s go get some food.” He sighs, tucks a stray hair behind your ear, kisses you, and then takes your hand as you walk together down towards a favorite food place of yours. On your way to the restaurant, you saw a store on the was that had the most adorable little circus clown rubber duck in the window, you almost pointed it out to Lucifer, but then you realized that you would rather it be a surprise, so you kept quiet and had a thought to come back for it later.

You two arrived at your favorite lunch spot, and of course one of the staff scrambles seeing the King of Hell at their front door. Lucifer tries to help the poor sinner remain calm and you get set up at a table. Lucifer reaches over to hold your hand during most of the meal, partly because he was romantic like that, but also because all of the attention was starting to make him feel nervous. He liked being out with you but fuck, these sinners sometimes made it really hard to be out. You tried to sooth him by rubbing your thumb on the back of his hand, and you watched him relax a little. He sighed, maybe he should have dresses down a little, maybe he wouldn’t have gotten as noticed then.

Food came and the both of you ate and chatted, giggling and having fun. At the end, Lucifer went to go pay for the meal. You told Lucifer then that there was a store you wanted to go to by yourself really quick and that you would be right back. Lucifer gave you a quick kiss before you walked out and down to the store. You tried not to run, but you were just so excited about this duck, it just fit his vibe so well.

You walked into the store and saw an imp in a cowboy hat and bright yellow eyes at the counter. They saw you approach and gave you a big smile, “Welcome in! It’s an honor to have you in your highness!” he said with a a southern accent and a wide sharp smile, a smile that almost felt a little forced.

“Oh… hahah… oh no I’m no royalty,” you added.

The imp laughed and walked around the counter, holding a glowing white lasso, “Haha, oh I know.” He quickly tossed the rope and caught you in it, spinning you in tightly before you can get free. You try to scream but he uses his tail to hold a knife to your throat, and not just any kind of knife, one made of angelic steel. You went quiet.

“Ahh, a smart one I see. Figured you may have been at least a little familiar with this metal. Seeing as how you and your Princess’ little friends seemed to be dripping in it several weeks ago,” he sneared. So… he had been watching you?

“What do you want from me?” you asked quietly.

“I want you to come with me,” he said, tugging the rope tighter, “we are gonna go someplace where your little King will never find you.” He laughed and you felt a sharp pain in the back of your head before everything went dark.

Over near the restaurant Lucifer waited for 10, 20, 30, minutes, and you never returned. He started to get nervous. He sent you a text or two and you didn’t respond. This was not like you at all. After the half hour, he decided to just call you. There was no ring, it went straight to voicemail, a chill ran up his spine. He called again, voicemail. And again, voicemail.

At this point, Lucifer was starting to panic. He took off and started to fly up and down the streets, most were just marveling at his wings, but a few called out to him. “My girlfriend, (y/n), she was just with me and now I can’t find her. Has anyone seen her?” He gave your description, showed a picture of you to a few people, even showed the necklace to see if anyone had seen someone with the same one. One person pointed him towards the shop that you went into. He went towards it and landed, seeing the circus rubber duck in the window, is that what you had come here for?

He walked in but saw no one there, “Hello!” he called out, still on guard. He heard a noise from a hall closet. He carefully went and opened the door, and a young imp woman tided in ropes tumbled out. Lucifer got her free of the ropes quickly.

“What happened?!” he said to the woman.

“Your majesty! I… I don’t know! This man came in, an imp, cowboy hat and yellow eyes, southern accent. He tied me up and shoved me in here! I heard someone else come in, a woman that he called “your highness”. I think he took off with her.”

“Where?!” Lucifer yelled.

The woman pulled back, “I don’t know! He didn’t say! Please don’t hurt me, your majesty!”

Lucifer took a breath, realizing he was scaring an innocent woman. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to yell at you… I have to find her.” He ducks out of the shop and takes to the air, looking to find and signs of you or the imp the woman had mentioned. But this man was quick and he had gotten you out of there quickly, there was no trace of you or him.

What could he do? Where was there to start looking for you? Who could he call? One of the Sins? He thought quickly, thinking about who would be the best to call. Then he remembered that Ozzie had told him about his boyfriend Fizz getting kidnapped several months ago, maybe he would have an idea of where to start. From the skies, Lucifer started a video call with Ozzie.

Ozzie’s face showed up on the screen, “Hey Luc, not like you to call out of, ohhhh noooo, Lucifer what’s wrong?” Ozzie said after seeing Lucifer’s face.

“It’s (y/n), I think she’s been kidnapped. Please I need help and I don’t know where to start,” Lucifer wailed into the phone.

“Oh shit! Uhh… ok, hang on.” Ozzie’s faces move to look at someone off screen. “Fizzy? Do you have the number of that old friend of yours?” Muffled response from Fizzaroli. “Ya, Blitzø.” Muffled response. “Shit.” Muffled response. “Stolas? Ok.” Ozzie looked back at the camera, “Do you mind if I add Stolas Goetia to the call? He has a… friend of sorts that can help. He has saved both Fizzy and Stolas before.”

“Anything, I’ll take anyone’s help. I just need to find her!” Lucifer panicked.

“Ok ok! Try to stay calm Lucifer, we will find her. Try to find a place to land for now. I don’t want you flying while you are panicking.”

Lucifer nodded and landed on a nearby building roof while Ozzie got Stolas on the call.

“Well hello Asmodeous! A pleasure to hear from you, and… my stars, is that Lucifer?” Stolas asked.

“It is, he has a bit of a problem, we are wondering if you can help connect us with the person that saved you and Fizzy, that… Blitzø? Lucifer’s girlfriend has gone missing.” Ozzie said.

“Oh my! Has she been taken from you, my dear King? I would be happy to connect you with my Blitzy, him and his friends are very good at finding and saving people,” Stolas said with pride in his voice.

“Yes! Please! I need someone to find her!” Lucifer said, pulling at his hair. How many more people would he need to get on the phone before he could find someone that could help? As many as it took! He kept anxiously fidgeting with his necklace.

Stolas added Blitzø to the call, and Blitz chaotically picked up the phone ”What the fuck do you want Stolas? I’m in the middle of a meeting right now! Also video call, that’s bold of… whoa. Holy shit is that fucking Lucifer?” Lucifer awkwardly waved. “Whoaaa, Moxxie, Millie, Loonie, look it’s King Lucifer!” Lucifer watches as the faces of the other three squish into the video and wave, Lucifer gives another awkward wave back.

“Wait,” Blitz said “this isn’t some weird sex thing, is it Stolas?”

Stolas waved a hand, “No no no darling, this is a matter of the utmost importance. His majesty’s girlfriend has been kidnapped and I know you are just so talented at finding things, he needs your help.” Lucifer caught some flirty undertones in Stolas’ voice towards Blitz but he chose to ignore that.

Blitz blinked, “The King of Hell needs our help, this is fucking awesome! Alright, lay it on me, Luci, what’s the sitch?”

“And you uhh… trust this guys Stolas?” Lucifer added.

“With my very life,” Stolas said, putting a hand over his heart.

“Mine too!” Fizz called out from behind Ozzie.

Lucifer nodded and told Blitzø everything that had happened with you leaving to go get something, no response on phone calls or texts, and the reports from the woman.

“Wait… run that guy’s description past me again?” Blitz asked.

“Imp, short white hair, cowboy ish hat, yellow eyes, a kind of southern accent?” Lucifer said, “I didn’t see him but the woman at the shop did, she was tired up with rope.”

“Kinda like she had been lassoed?” Blitz said flatly.

“Ya!” Lucifer said.

“Fuck! Not that god damn prick again, why does he keep fucking kidnapping people?!” Blitzø said as he set down the phone and started to dig for tools.

Stolas gasped, “You don’t think it’s that Striker now, do you Blitz?”

“Oh I know it’s fucking Striker, he has such a signature style I can practically fucking smell it at this point,” Blitz added.

“Who is Striker?!” Lucifer asked.

“He is an Imp who is a sort of bounty hunter of sorts, he kidnapped Fizzy, Blitz, and Stolas before. He almost kicked Stolas before!” Ozzie added.

Killed? “Wait… does that mean he…” Lucifer said.

“Has access to angelic steel? You bet your fucking ass he does, and I have a fucking score to settle with him,” Blitz picks the phone back up, “but that also means I know exactly where he is. The Wrath Ring.”

“What? But… mortal souls don’t leave the Pride ring?” Lucifer added.

“That wouldn’t stop him from finding a way to smuggle her into the ring, also you would be less likely to suspect him there with a mortal soul. Trust me your majesty, I have this covered. Anything else you need me to know?” Blitz asked.

Lucifer sniffles, “No, just bring her back to me. Please.”

Blitz salutes Lucifer, “We will get her back sir” Blitz puts on some sunglasses, “Alright, bitches. Saddle up, we are heading to Wrath!” Then Blitz hung up on his end.

Lucifer took a deep breath and sighed, he was so worried about you. Worried that this “Striker” guys was going to harm you. Was it to get to him? Or something else?

“It’s gonna be ok Luci,” Ozzie said.

“Yes, and is there anything else we could possibly do to support you, Lucifer?” Stolas added.

“I… I don’t know… I wanna go back home but I don’t wanna be alone right now. I’m so scared for her. If I knew where she was I could take care of it myself… but tracking is not one of my strong suits…” Lucifer said.

“They have a hellhound on their team, she is good, she found my daughter when she got lost on Earth one time. They will find her, Lucifer,” Stolas said.

“How about you come over and hang with me and Fizz, Lucifer. Stolas can come too if you want that,” Ozzie offered.

Lucifer nodded, “Be there in a sec.” Then he hung up. Lucifer opened a portal and stepped into the lobby of Ozzie’s residence, and a second later, Stolas opened his own portal and stepped in, right as Ozzie rounded the corner with Fizz. Ozzie sighs and puts a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder.

“I’m just so worried about her, especially if he has access to angelic steel… oh… my darling girl…” Lucifer started to cry. Ozzie and Stolas looked at each other, Stolas was thinking back to his own encounter with Striker, but he was not going to share that with Lucifer now, it would only worry him.

“Nothing we can do now besides wait Lucifer, I’m sure once they find (y/n), Blitz will be calling us so that you can swoop down there and take them out yourself,” Stolas said.

“Until then, come join Fizzy and I for food, we just finished making lunch,” Ozzie said leading them further into their home. Lucifer had still recently eaten and was not feeling like more, but he was willing to be with them while he waited for the results of the search. Fizzaroli chanted “Burger time, Burger time,” as they walked to the kitchen, which at least got Lucifer to crack a small smile. But seeing Ozzie with Fizz and Stolas talk about Blitz made him feel your absence even more. He held onto the necklace that matched yours, and thought, ‘We will find you, Sweetheart, I promise.’

———————————————————————————————————————

Your eyes opened as you came back to consciousness, the only thing you could see was the white glow of the rope around you, and two bright yellow eyes, that were looking at you from several feet away.

“Aww, so the King’s pet is now awake. Welcome back to the land of the dead… for now,” the man said and chuckled.

“Who are you? What do you want from me?” You asked.

The eyes squinted and moved up and then slowly towards you, “Name’s Striker, not that it will matter soon. and I’m here to torture you, maybe kill you.” He gave an evil chuckle, and as he grew closer, you saw another light start to shine silver about a foot below his eyes, in the shape of a blade. You froze, remembering that he had angelic steel on him. One wrong move and you would be dead for a second time, no Lucifer, no hotel.

You swallowed hard, “I’ll do anything you ask, just tell me what you want.”

He continued to walk towards you and held the angelic blade to your chin and lifted it up, you could now see a little more of his face, and it was the same man who tied you up.

“Smart girl,” he growled, “But I didn’t drag you here because I needed something from you, although using you to get to that royal family would be pretty nice. But I know I can’t take him on. No… I’ve been hired to kill you my wanna-be royal.”

You scowled, “I am not a wanna-be royal, I love Lucifer despite him being the King, and I care about what Charlie is doing despite her being the Princess!”

Striker flicked the blade across your check and you gasped as you started to feel blood drip down your face. “Pitiful that you would believe your own lies, anyone that chases a blue blood is always wanting what they have. Even if you do care, there is something someone wants out of it. And the people that want you dead, don’t like that some sinner got to be by his side. What makes you so special that he chose you above anyone else?”

You breathed heavily, “There… there are other sinners that want me dead because I’m with Lucifer?” This comment earned you another flick of his blade, this time on your arm, then he kicked you over in the chair you were in and glared over you.

“More than just sinners, baby cakes,” he glared down at you. “I’m personally a fan of all the royals and their mates being dead. They treat us like scum!”

“No! Please! Striker I don’t want anyone to feel that way! Let me talk to Lucifer and we can try to fix things!”

This response ended with the knife plunged into your thigh, and you let out a scream.

“Oh see! Now that you are at the end of my knife, you are willing to reform things. Well it ain’t gonna work this time! I’m not listening to blue bloods, or their lying simps!” Striker yelled.

Tears started to stream down your face. All you could think about was Lucifer, how scared he probably was, and how he was going to find you in this cave, dead. You dare not make any more comments, hoping that maybe your silence will buy you more time for… something, anything. You didn’t know if anyone was going to save you from this, but you wanted to hope.

Striker continued to walk around in the darkness for a while, leaving cuts or jabs into your body with his knife, leaving you screaming as he tormented you. You secretly hoped your screams would tell someone, anyone, that you needed help, but who in Hell would come save you other than Lucifer and the hotel crew? How would they know where to find you.

A while later, you heard something that sounded like a motor and a light, showing more of the area round you, and showing that you were in a cave of some sort. Striker was distracted by the car as it came closer until it came to a screeching halt as three imps and a hellhound jumped out.

“There you are you fucking psycho! Nice job finding a different creepy ass mine shaft in Wrath, how many of these places are there!” The tallest of the imps called out.

“Blitz?! What the hell are you doing here?!” Striker asked as he moved into a more aggressive stance, pulling out a gun.

“Ahh, well you see, you pissed off the King of Hell and uhhh… he has contacts. And unfortunately for you, you are so fucking bad at your job that you practically leave a calling card at this point! An imp with yellow eyes, a cowboy hat, and a southern accent that loves kidnapping royals or there bitches? That just screams “Striker” pal.” Blitz started pulling out his phone as he talked.

“What are you doing?” Striker said.

Stolas picked up the phone, Blitz smiled and just said, “Oh nothing, just tell my friend where we finally found you sick fucks with King Lucifer’s girlfriend, at the middle part of the eastern mineshaft in Wrath by the way, so that he can come take care of you.”

A moment later, a red portal opened up above you all and Lucifer flew out, all six wings flapping furiously, full demon mode out on display. Lucifer saw you, and then locked his eyes on Striker and dove at him. Striker was able to narrowly miss Lucifer’s first lunge, but not the second as Lucifer swung back around and grabbed Striker, taking him to the ground and knocking the weapons out of Strikers hands, and holding him down.

“WĦÄȚ ŤĦĘ FŲĆĶ ÐÍÐ ŶØŰ ŤĦĨŅĶ ŶØŮ ŴĚŘÊ ÐØÏŃĞ ĶĪÐNĄPPÌÑĞ ĦĚŘ?” Lucifer roared at Striker below him. Striker was now shaking.

“Please! Ahh… My King… it was a job, a good paying one, I just take what I can get,” Striker stuttered beneath Lucifer, now fearing for his life.

“ŴĦØ ĦĨŘĘÐ ŶØŮ ȚØ ĶǏŁŁ HĘŘ?!” Lucifer roared again.

“Just this small group off pissed off sinners! Fan girls of some kind, I don’t know! They had crazy money to pay me!” Striker pleaded.

Lucifer was about to start swinging when he heard your voice.

“Lucifer, stop,” you pleaded in a pained whisper.

Lucifer turned to look at you, bloodied and beaten in a tipped over chair. Millie and Moxxie ran over to untie you and put on some basic bandages to cover open wounds.

“Būț ŵħŷ, mŷ løvę? Łøøķ ãț ħøŵ ħę ħåş ħůřț ŷøù?” Lucifer said calmer.

“Yes… but he says the imps suffer… and are treated poorly… worse than sinners… I want… to figure this out…” you slowly said through a rasp.

Striker’s eyes went wide, was this bitch for real? He looked up at Lucifer, who looked down at him. “Ïş țħâț țřüę?”, Lucifer asked down at Striker, who nodded. Lucifer then looked over at Blitz, Millie, and Moxxie, who also nodded.

Lucifer sighed, and referred back to his normal self while still holding Striker down, “Fine. I’m sorry you have all had that experience, I will work on seeing how we can do better with that. But if you come for me and my loved ones again, it’s gāmė øvęř for you pal, ok?” He said looking down at Striker. He nodded again. Lucifer got up and released him, and Striker slinked away.

Lucifer then ran over you and looked you over, cupping your face in his hand, “Baby… oh fuck…” He almost started you cry seeing all of your cuts. He started to heal you, and it sort of worked, but heeling does not work as well again wounds made with angelic steel.

“Sweetheart, it’s ok… I’m ok. I’m sorry I was so stupid,” you apologized.

Lucifer shook his head, “No… this isn’t your fault my love. There are some crazy people in hell and… I’m sorry. I should have known better.”

“Sounds like we just need to be more careful going out,” you added.

“Well… as touching as this love fest is, can we get the fuck out of here? One of your little portals would be killer for getting out of this shithole… ya know, if you don’t mind… your majesty,” Blitz said, realizing throughout the statement that he should probably talk to Lucifer with a little more respect. Lucifer lifted an eyebrow, but sighed and picked you up, and opened a portal back up to the Pride ring, not far from the hotel, and everyone went through, even Blitz’s car.

Lucifer and you then took your leave of the others and he flew you over the hospital, even though you insisted that you were ok. You were patched up and sent back home a few hours later. Once at home, Lucifer continues to fuss over you until you asked him to just lay by your side. Eventually he did lay down next to you and calm down a little, holding you close to him but being careful of your wounds. Every shift and groan made him look at you with fearful eyes still.

“Do you need anything? Do you need me to move?” He asked.

“Luci, it’s ok, it’s gotta hurt for a bit but I’ll live, I promise,” you stroked his hair, “What would help the most is if you don’t panic with every move I make. I promise if I need something I will tell you?”

“Ok…I just don’t understand how you can be so calm after all of that,” Lucifer said setting his head down of the pillow and looking at you.

“I’m not calm… but I’m not scared either… I’m home save in your arms. I know I’m safe with you,” you said.

“I’m the reason you got hurt,” he said sadly.

“No. You are not responsible for what sinners do or how imps act. I left myself in the open. Shit happens. I just know that I need to protect myself more in the future. Ok?” You said, moving a hand to cup his check.

He nodded, and he snuggled in close to you as you both drifted to sleep after a long, chaotic day.

[kissesforsatoru]

PROTECTIVE MODE ON YAN FIC of yan Izana, yan Ran, and Yan Kazu who were sent to jail ofc and find out that you been getting targeted from other gangs and been getting jump, mug, threatened, assult- maybe the before where they were in jail and seeing sent photos or words were being passed and then after they get out seeing you at the hospital very badly injured and going after the gang themselves

- 🌑

IZANA, RAN, KAKUCHO x GN! READER (separate)

₊˚⌗ izana, ran, and kaku finding out their darling is being harassed while they're locked away in jail.

⤷ cw : general yandere themes, light descriptions of injury, pet names (angel, baby, sweetheart; izana, kakucho).

notes : sorry this took so long guys, i got stuck on ran's section 😭

izana would be pissed if he found out someone was fucking with his darling while he was locked up. he thinks it's pussy to mess with him while he 'can't do anything' about it. if someone has a problem with him, they should come to him directly and fight him, not get his poor little darling involved while he's not there to protect them. izana has ways to get his revenge though, even while he's locked up. he has informants, people to rough up anyone that touches his darling until he gets out—and when he does, he will find them, and they pay for touching his darling.

"missed you, angel," izana hums into your neck, his arms squeezing tighter around your body. you visited him a lot while he was in jail, but it's been so long since he's gotten to hold you in his arms like this; he can't help but want you closer, closer, closer—especially knowing that someone has been hurting you.

he feels content with you, but it's only for a few seconds before he kicks back into his usual cold, ruthless self—his gang leader self. before he can allow himself any more time to hold you, and kiss you, and do whatever else he wants to do with you, he has to deal with the bastards that dared to hurt you.

"so, you gonna tell me who's been messing with you while i wasn't around, hm?" he asks, pulling out of your neck to look at you. his eyes are void and intense as always, sending a shiver of fear down your spine, and the sweet, lulling tone of voice he took with you just a second ago is now gone, replaced with something a little more dangerous, more demanding.

izana already knows who did it; five guys belonging to a gang that got on izana's nerves, thinking they were better when they were nothing but a bunch of mindless idiots full of themselves. of course, guys like that would go after someone weaker than them, someone easy—it's bullshit. izana wants to hear it from you who did it though because not once while he was locked up did you tell him you were being harassed; he had to find out from his informants, so this is your 'punishment'.

"i'm not fucking around, y/n. tell me who hurt you," he snaps when you don't answer him for a while. his fingers dig into your shoulders almost painfully, urging you to just tell him already. he doesn't have the patience to be playing games with you right now.

"i don't- i don't know their names, but they said they were from, uh- a gang called the serpents," you blurt out, not wanting to piss him off further, especially after he just got out of jail, and you finally get to be with him again. izana grunts but relents and lets your shoulders.

"go back home, baby, i have shit to deal with right now. i'll come back to you in a few hours, yeah?" he doesn't give you time to respond before he walks off. you know where he's going, and as much as you don't like the idea of him getting right back into gang business after getting out of jail, you don't try to stop him.

kakucho's first priority is you. before he even thinks about killing the bastards who dared to touch you, and he does eventually, he has to make sure that you're okay. your safety and well-being are always going to be his first priority. and depending on in what way and how badly they hurt you is what determines the severity of what he does to the guys who were messing with you.

the first thing kakucho does when he gets out of jail is go straight to see you. he's excited, a little giddy at finally getting to be with you again without the annoying and prying eyes of the guards, but kakucho is mostly worried. you suddenly stopped visiting him in jail a few months ago, making up bullshit excuses for it on the phone, so he asked one of the gang members who didn't get busted what's been going on with you, only to find out some guys have been fucking around with you.

if you didn't want to tell him about it, let alone let him see you, it must be bad. bad enough to leave you with visible injuries, surely, but he has no idea what kind of injuries you could possibly have. as bad as it may sound, he's hoping it's nothing more than bruises and little cuts. anything else and he might just lose any semblance of control when approaching the situation.

when you finally open the door for him, kakucho steps into your space and gently grabs you, look you over and searching for any injuries you may have. you have a cast on your wrist, and an array of fading bruises littered on your arms and legs--no doubt in other, more hidden places as well. at least they're faded, meaning those bastards probably haven't done anything in a while. not anything physical at least.

he curses while pulling you into his arms, hugging you tightly while also making sure not to hurt you. "why didn't you tell me, sweetheart? i have ways to handle things like this, you know? even when i'm in jail." he sounds like he's about to cry, and that make your stomach fill with regret as you hug him back.

"i knew you would be worried. i didn't want to stress you out any more than you already were," you explain to him, but now that it's coming out of your mouth, you realize that maybe not telling him and avoiding has made him worried about you even more. that much is obvious with how he's holding you, refusing to let you go even as you try to pull away.

"of course, i'm going to be worried about you! shit, y/n—" he stops mid-sentence, clearly a little bit overwhelmed at the moment. you don't say a thing and just wait for him to calm down and vent all his frustrations to you. it's the least you can do after causing him so much turmoil.

"i can't lose you too," he finally whispers. he pulls away from the hug and looks at you, his expression serious, yet tinged with worry and sadness. you feel another pang of guilt and you pull him back into the hug, as if to reassure him with the action. he hugs you back just as tight and the two of you stand there for a while, wrapped up in each other's arms.

ran doesn't take the situation as seriously as the other two, at least not in front of you. of course, he cares, he's worried, and he wants the bastards to pay, but he doesn't necessarily show it at first. ran will try to remain calm for your sake, to not freak you out with his anger because lord knows how aggressive he gets in fights, and how deeply he cares about you, too. even as he's interrogating you, ran tries to keep his cool, but he can only play it off for so long before he starts to get riled up at the prospect of some guys roughing you up.

"ran, some guys have been harassing me while you were in jail," you tell him randomly, unable to keep it from him any longer, especially now that he's out of jail. he just looks at you, that usual smirk of his on his lips, and he leans back against your couch, making himself comfortable.

"yeah? i already know. want me to do something about it?" he asks as if it's not that big of a deal to him, like it's just something that happens, which- to be fair, you know he probably expected this. ran pisses a lot of people off, makes a lot of guys want to get back at him, and you're an easy target to them, you guess. but still, his lack of concern or care for your well-being is a little bit surprising to you, maybe even a bit upsetting too. you expected at least a serious expression instead of that damn smirk, but then again, this is ran.

"no, just wanted to tell you." you shrug and sit down next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. ran doesn't respond; instead, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer to him while he pulls out his phone with his other hand. you pay him no mind and go on your own phone, assuming the conversation is over with, at least until a few minutes later when he locks his phone and shoves it back in his pocket.

"who'd you say these guys were again? and what exactly did they do?" he asks, and you feel a little smile make its way onto your lips—he cares. you wouldn't lie and say his little display of nonchalance made you doubt he actually cared for you, even if it was only a little bit.

"those guys you fought because they kept messing around on izana's territory. and they just roughed me up a bit, pushed me around and called me– some things.” you say, shifting to sit up and look at him. his thumb rubs along your waist lightly as he tilts his head in thought, seemingly trying to remember who you're talking about. after a few seconds, he looks at you, humming.

"mm... rin and i will take care of them. you didn't think i'd let shit like that slide, did you? nobody touches you without consequences, you know that," he reprimands your little slip of trust in him, but he doesn't seem to really take it to heart—that smirk back on his lips. it is his fault for acting so carelessly, so he won't blame you. he gently kisses your forehead before standing up and heading out the door, intent on doing what he told you he would.

[hannieehaee]

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: being besties with two of the most popular idols in korea always came with a few rumors here and there, but what happened when one of your platonic besties suddenly started acting a little friendlier than usual? or worse, what happened when they both turned their affections to you?

content: idol!au, hybeidol!reader x idol!mingyu, hybeidol!reader x idol!jungkook, 97liner!reader, friends2lovers, not mingyu x jk (they just share u like all besties would<3), not that much plot, afab reader, smut, oral (f and m receiving), body worship, fingering, penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 1.3k (teaser); 8.2k (full fic)

release date: april 27th

or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!

a/n: decided to write a little surprise fic!! ive been getting into bts lately and so this was born<3

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"Do you think the company would get mad if we did a live together right now?", Jungkook pondered out loud as the three of you sat on different pieces of furniture around his large living room.

"Yeah."

"They didn't seem to mind when Jungkook and I did it that one time," disagreed Mingyu.

"Yeah, but I'm the girl. I'm the one who wakes up to new dating rumors every time we hang out publicly."

"Yeah, but people must know we're just friends by now, right? It's been years."

That much was true.

You weren't sure of the exact date, but your friendship with both boys predated the overall international success of Kpop as of recent years. When you had met both boys, they had barely battled their way through puberty – though you weren't faring any better.

The media enjoyed making the three of you a subject, knowing that you were evidently the closest out of all members of the popular 97s friend group. Being the only girl integrant, it was common for people to have the misconception that you were romantically involved with either Mingyu or Jungkook, seeing as you were often spotted in public with them.

You'd gotten used to the rumors and hate that came attached to being their friend, now usually leaving those things in the back burner rather than letting them bother you. By now, the three of you were a bit more careless about being seen together. Being seniors in the industry, those things didn't matter much to you anymore, but being seen inside Jungkook's house would surely stir up the worst rumors to date, so going live with him was entirely out of the question.

It did bother you sometimes; the double standard. While Jungkook and Mingyu could even interact in public or mention each other freely, any time you did so you were met with hate from either fandom, sometimes even your own. It also made you worry about your future. Could you ever be in a relationship without facing the brunt of all the hate that would come your way? At 26 years of age, it was a frustrating reality to think about.

Jungkook got up at some point to go fetch some more bottles of soju. Apparently the seven bottles the three of you had drank collectively weren't enough for the large men you were drinking with.

While Jungkook was gone, Mingyu got up from his seat on the couch opposite to you and took a seat down next to you, invading your personal space like he usually did.

"Worrying your pretty little head about something?", asked Mingyu as he leaned over you, taking the occasional sip from his drink.

"It's nothing."

"C'mon, what's up?", his hand ran up and down your arm in a soothing manner.

Invading your space and being overly touchy usually meant that he was tipsy. But to be fair, you were a bit tipsy too.

"Do you ever think about dating?"

"Who? You?", he chuckled.

"No, dumbass. I mean in general."

He seemed to sober up a little at the mention of the subject, straightening up a bit as he sat sideways on the couch so he could look at you fully.

"What's got you thinking about that?"

"I don't know ... I'm 26 now. Isn't it time I started settling down? Have someone filling up the other half of the bed," you pondered, feeling a bit pathetic as you did so.

Mingyu let out a quiet sound of confusion, eyebrows furrowed and head leaning to the side in question.

"Isn't that what me and Jungkook are for?"

Not taking him seriously, you chuckled and took a swing of your almost empty bottle of soju.

"I'm serious, Mingyu. I mean a romantic relationship, where, you know, it's just us and we do couple things and we settle down and all that stuff."

"What can you do with some guy that you couldn't do with us?", he grabbed both your drinks and set them on the table.

Suddenly, his demeanor seemed a bit more serious, which confused you.

Where the hell was Jungkook with those drinks?

"I- Are you serious? Do you need me to tell you?"

"Yeah, I mean, why would you need to look for some guy if you have us?"

Oh. He was serious.

"Because we're friends?," you were beyond confused, "I can't go out with you romantically, or move in with you, or," you gulped, "or sleep with you."

"You can't?", he scoot closer to you.

"Mingyu ..."

"I just mean ... Why would you go after some loser when we can just take care of you?", his hand went back to touching you, though this time it ran up and down your thigh rather than your arm. That false semblance of innocence was gone, "You want someone to keep your bed warm? You don't even have to ask ... I'll do it- we'll do it."

Through his short speech, he got closer and closer, just as the air in the room got heavier. The atmosphere itself shifted dramatically, specially with Mingyu so close to you.

Mingyu was the touchiest man you'd ever known. Being his best friend, you had fallen victim to his touchy demeanor endless times, but never like this. Never while his eyes were hooded and heavy with some emotion you'd never seen in them before.

"Gyu, I-"

"Can I show you?", he rasped, eyes now on your lips.

"Y-you're drunk," you were sure that must've been it. The combination between drinking and talking about dating must've short circuited his brain.

"Just tipsy ... Tipsy enough to get the balls to tell you how much I want you ... but lucid enough to remember how many times I've thought about this."

The hands on your thighs moved to your waist, closing in on you, slowly pulling you toward him. By the end of it, you were halfway sitting on his lap.

"You've thought about this?"

Your nervous hands went to his shoulders for support, easily giving in to him.

"So many times. Jungkook too," he chuckled as he began burying his head in your neck, lips ghosting the sensitive skin.

Lacking any control of your body, you repositioned yourself to allow him better access to you, now fully on his lap as he sat sideways on the couch, arms wrapped fully around you and face buried in your neck.

"Gyu, I-"

"Yeah? Is this okay? Is it okay if I kiss your neck like this? This is what you wanted, right? Someone to take care of you?", he mumbled as he made his way to your ear with breathy kisses.

You were burning up, completely powerless to Mingyu. It was kind of embarrassing how easily you gave in to him. How you had been entirely unaware of his want for you until five minutes ago, yet you were now pliant in his hold, willing to listen to his senseless argument about him and Jungkook being good replacement for a relationship. You also had that to think about – the Jungkook aspect of it all.

The reminder of Jungkook's presence woke you up a bit, remembering that you were literally sitting on your best friend's lap while in your other best friend's living room.

With half a mind to let Mingyu do whatever he wanted to do with you, you powered your way through your decision to pull him away from your neck.

"Gyu, wait. Kook could get here any minute-"

"Don't stop on my account. Seemed like you were having fun without me."

Your head snapped to the door at the introduction of the raspy voice of your best friend, finding said friend leaning against the doorframe with a few drinks in one hand and a few ramen cups stacked on the other.

"Jungkook-"

"So, can someone catch me up?", he got closer, dropping off all the food he was carrying on the table and sitting next to you on the couch.

...

read today on ko-fi or patreon by subscribing to either one<3

NOTE: it wont let me reply to people anymore but ill be tagging everyone who comments asking to be tagged just letting u guys know<3

[pocketgalaxies]

fcg: i enjoy eating silver more than copper

imogen: i am genuinely scared to meet my mom again

chet: it is well known that wood is better than metal

laudna: deep down inside, both delilah and i kind of want the shard

laudna: i don't want [the shard], fearne should have it, but i don't know anymore what's my opinion or desires or feelings or [delilah's]

imogen: i love laudna deeply, but i'm disgusted at the thought of delilah looking at us all the time

orym: i'm super lonely all the time, especially at night. doesn't matter if i'm bunking with one of you guys

fcg: sometimes i pity some of you because you have beating hearts and opportunities and you don't do enough with them

fcg: chetney you have so much love to give and it doesn't seem like you're interested in anything, in ANYTHING, other than wood. there's people out there who you could love and experiences you could share with someone else, but all you care about is wood

orym: i've always laughed it off but i guess i do kinda wonder if chetney is my dad

ashton: i am the reason that the jiana hexum robbery went fucking wrong and the reason why i got thrown out of a fucking window

ashton: (laudna: is that why you feel like you deserved to have the nobodies leave you?) yeah.

fearne: i feel like we are very ill-equipped for this job and we're gonna fail at saving the world

chet: while wood may be the superior material to metal, i do fear that with the dwindling interest in it that children will find my toys and thereby myself obsolete every year that i grow older

fcg: i think it's something buried deep down in my circuitry, but every time i hurt or kill something, it feels really good. it makes me sorta relax a little bit and some of my stress goes away

imogen: i know we're supposed to save the gods but i've tried talking to them my whole life and none of them will ever respond. i think i'm tainted. i don't know if i want to save gods that don't love me

laudna: you know we could all ripcord out of this at any moment, and i don't mean this scavenger hunt, i mean saving the world, right? andsometimesifantasizeaboutitallthetime

fearne: sometimes i do stuff to you guys while you're sleeping. not weird stuff, i just like to look at you closely and...you know, just look at you. you look so content and comfortable and i can get up and look at you really well. and maybe twiddle your hair and like braid it. nothing bad! nothing bad!!

ashton: any time it's too quiet, i start worrying that one of us, most of us, are gonna end up killing another one of us accidentally. all of us. orym...very gently, but probably–orym may be the only one i worry about the least, but genuinely everybody else. i have panicked thinking about what happens when one of you kills another one of us

orym: (laudna: do you have any strong feelings one way or another kind of being the normal guy in a group of freaks who are all ticking time bombs? are you okay with that, do you have any strong feelings?) i have all the faith in the world in you guys, all of you. and i have also spent time thinking how to neutralize each of you

fcg: i kinda worry that i put all my eggs in the changebringer basket and she might betray us all, i had a really weird conversation with her and i think she's just out for herself and she might not really care about me

imogen: fearne, i was really disappointed in you for running away from your power, you should take the shard (laudna: you should take the shard)

orym: i really miss dorian, and sometimes i think that's okay and sometimes i think it isn't

pate: [laudna] is my creator, i don't have feelings, i'm a construction

ashton: i feel fucking worse that i just fucked up fearne's life way more than mine, and i should've died instead of that happening

chet: i grew up in the bramblewood outside of westruun, and when i was a kid, i came back from learning how to make toys and found that my whole family had left. all they left behind were toys. and they ran when errevon the rimelord was running across the plains so i'm kinda afraid of dragons. and i had five siblings, alabaster, pepper, sugarplum, hermey, and chad, and i was so mad that they left, i never looked for any of them. and now i'm pretty sure they're dead, so i think that any family i have is just gonna look for a reason to leave me, that's why i don't get attached to anybody

[cursedwoman1859]

Arm Candy (Silco/F!Reader)

“I need someone who can look pretty on my arm and be trusted not to make off with the silverware from a topsider estate. That’s you.” Silco needs a plus-one for a fancy topsider party. You don't really have a choice but to agree.

AO3 Link

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Words: 5.8k

Content: Resolved sexual tension; semi-public sex; vaginal fingering; dirty talk; dubious business ethics

---

It wasn’t often you got called into Silco’s office first thing in the morning. You were a paper-pusher, not one of the battle-hardened henchmen who usually hung around the Last Drop, and your work mostly kept you at your desk. Calculations came as naturally to you as breathing, and you could crunch numbers faster even than Silco himself. In the few months you’d been working for the Eye of Zaun, you’d made yourself indispensable. You helped keep track of the Shimmer shipments going to and from Zaun, you effortlessly slipped the profits from the drugs business into the earnings from the various factories and bars and properties that Silco owned, and once a week you’d spend the evening alone in the office with your stern, exacting boss while you went over that week’s financial reports. Silco needed someone to cook his books, and you prided yourself on being the best damn chef in the undercity. You kept to yourself, you prayed he never noticed your furtive glances up at him when he was absorbed in his work, and you did not cause trouble.

So it was only natural that your stomach twisted itself into knots as you stepped into his office, and that those knots tightened when he looked up from the paper he was reading, his bicoloured stare pinning you and making your walk to stand in front of his desk feel like miles instead of metres.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” you said when you were near, and the way his eyes flicked over you, almost too quickly for you to notice, did nothing to calm you.

“I did,” he said, his chair creaking as he leaned back in it. You’d definitely never wondered if it could hold two people. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

You could swear that sentence made your brain fritz like a faulty wire. “I, um—” Absolutely nothing was the real answer, but for some reason you didn’t want to admit that. “I made plans with…Ran and Dustin,” you said, saying the first names that came to your mind even though you’d never shared more than small talk with either of them.

Silco’s eyebrow raised as if he could see right through your lie. Which he probably could, because it was completely transparent. “Then cancel them. I need your help at an event.”

“What kind of…event?” you said, your mind reeling with all the things Silco could be alluding to. Shakedowns, back-alley deals, assassinations…

“Don’t look so frightened,” Silco said, taking a cigar from his ashtray and lighting it. He took a deep drag, letting the smoke billow around him as he spoke. “Are you familiar with Ko Shosu?”

It took you a moment to remember the name from some of the background research you’d carried out on Silco’s competitors. “Doesn’t he own that factory that makes gears or something?”

“The very same. He’s hosting a party at his residence topside tomorrow night and unfortunately, I’ll need to make an appearance. Shosu seems to think we’re acquaintances. And on top of that, I happen to know that one of his associates has run into some financial trouble as of late. His factory makes components that are essential to the Shimmer-tanks we’re developing. Now isn’t that a stroke of luck?”

“You want to get to this associate so you can get him to work with you?”

“Exactly. His name is Rupert Torek and he’s run up gambling debts with some very unsavoury people. I’m sure he’ll be cooperative once he realises I can lend him enough money to get himself out of debt before his wife finds out.”

You decided not to ask how Silco could have information like that on someone he’d never even met. For your sanity’s sake, it was better not to know. “And why do you need me, sir?”

It might have just been your imagination, but you could swear Silco looked you up and down again. Slower this time. “I thought that would be obvious. I cannot exactly show up to something like this alone. I need someone who can distract Torek’s wife so I can get five minutes alone with him, and who can look pretty on my arm and be trusted not to make off with the silverware from a topsider estate. That’s you.”

“I, um—” you floundered for a minute – the words look pretty on my arm setting your heart racing, which was stupid, he’d literally just said he wanted you to be his arm candy for a night, it meant nothing – and Silco raised an eyebrow at your hesitation.

“You’ll be paid overtime for your trouble, of course,” he said.

“That wasn’t—thank you, sir,” you said quickly.

“Good,” he said, flicking through some of the papers on his desk, his focus already slipping back to his work. “Meet me outside Ko Shosu’s house at eight sharp. Wear something nice and do not be late.”

It was a struggle to focus on your work for the next two days. The figures that usually came so easily to you seemed to blur together until you had to triple-check your spreadsheets in case you’d made an error while your mind insisted on screeching Silco think’s I’m pretty over and over like a stuck record. You were sure he’d meant nothing by that offhanded comment, but that didn’t help anything.

It was almost a relief when the next evening rolled around just so you could focus on doing something.

But that relief didn’t last long when you realised you didn’t have the first clue what you should wear to a party at a topsider’s fancy estate. There wasn’t time to hit up the markets even if you could justify the expense, so you settled for a black dress that was simple, but showed off your figure without showing too much of anything else, as you could at least guess that anything shorter than the knee-length hem of your dress might not go over well among the stiff, buttoned-up topsiders. You’d had the dress a long time and had to stitch it once or twice, but surely nobody would notice a little thing like that.

You felt strangely buoyant as you made your way through the upper districts of Zaun, where at this time in the evening business was just starting to pick up. Lines were forming outside the nicer clubs, the street hawkers were packing up to make way for the crowds, and the air nearly sparkled with Shimmer residue as you passed the open doors of some of the edgier establishments, where topsiders went to get a taste of the undercity without actually having to venture below. You couldn’t even find it within yourself to be annoyed at the arrogant topsiders who came to Zaun to indulge in all the things they couldn’t in Piltover before returning to their cushy homes and easy lives. Tonight felt like an infiltration, and it was you who would be inserting yourself somewhere you could never belong.

-

You met up with Silco outside the gates of Ko Shosu’s estate. He’d gone straight there from a meeting with some topsider businessman, and he was dressed as elegantly as he always was. As you approached you glanced at the people milling around on the wide driveway, and you suddenly felt underdressed.

“You’re almost late,” Silco said by way of greeting, and the nervous knot in your stomach only tightened.

“Sorry, sir. Border guards held me up. You know how they are.” The Enforcer at the checkpoint on the bridge had made a huge fuss over your ID photo having a slightly different hairstyle than you did now, just being an asshole because he was an Enforcer and he could.

“Hm,” was all he said as his eyes raked over you, and your mind instantly went to those little stitches in your dress. You suddenly felt as if he could see every little flaw in you, and the feeling only worsened when a couple of women in glittering floor-length gowns swept past, arm-in-arm and laughing airily.

“Do I look all right?” you said just to break the tense silence. “This is the best I have.”

“You look perfectly acceptable,” Silco said, and that was almost worse than if he hadn’t said anything. Acceptable. You’d be lucky if you weren’t mistaken for a servant. “Shall we?” he said then, offering you his arm. When you hesitated, he rolled his eyes. “Take my arm. We have to at least appear as if we both want to be here.”

“Do you want to be here?” you said as you curled your hand around his elbow, trying to ignore the jolt you felt at touching him, even if he was wearing a coat.

He scoffed. “Of course I don’t. But needs must.”

As you made your way up the long driveway, you couldn’t help but gawk at your surroundings. You knew this wasn’t even close to being the grandest house in all of Piltover, but at that moment you could have believed it. There were at least four floors, the upper two ringed in balconies spilling over with hanging flowers and vines. The next closest house had to be at least a hundred metres away, and in the dark space between you could make out the open expanse of a lawn lit by a ring of ground-level lamps, and manicured trees on each side. You couldn’t imagine what the topsiders would do with such a space – you could probably fit a whole other house in there, even one as large as Shosu’s.

And when you entered the house itself, you actually gasped. “Someone lives here? It looks like a palace.”

Silco shot you a glare as you stared at your surroundings with wide eyes, barely even registering the doorman who came to take your coats. “Remember how I said you were the only one I could trust not to fill your pockets? Don’t make me regret it.”

But you were hardly listening as your eyes roved over the crowded ballroom. It was a sea of fine suits and jewel-toned gowns, with servants darting through the throngs like the quick little fish that lived in the shallows of the river, trays of drinks and tiny pastry-like things balanced on their fingertips. Music drifted from somewhere you couldn’t see, almost drowned out by the chatter, and diamonds glittered at fingers and throats – and even on the ceiling, you noticed as your eyes drifted upwards, or at least it seemed like the chandeliers were draped in strings of gemstones that scattered the lights in every direction.

“Concentrate, girl,” Silco muttered close to your ear, making you shiver. “Remember why we’re here. Torek is over there,” he said, though you couldn’t possibly guess which of the guests he was indicating. “Do you remember your task?”

You dragged your eyes away from the spectacle before you to meet his mismatched eyes. “Keep his wife distracted while you get him to consider working with you. I’ve got it.”

“Good. We won’t need to stay long – an hour at most, then you can go home and do whatever you’d like. Maybe you can even catch Ran and Dustin.” As he said this the corner of his mouth tilted up, and you realised with some shock that the Eye of Zaun was teasing you.

You shrugged in what you hoped was nonchalance. “It takes as long as it takes. You know I’m not one to rush a job.”

“I’m aware,” he said as you started to make your way through the crowd, weaving through the throng as if you weren’t aiming straight for your unfortunate target. Perhaps it was because people knew he was from the Undercity, or maybe whispers of the things his people did in dark alleys and dingy establishments travelled ahead of him, but the dense crowd of people seemed to loosen before him, as if people suddenly remembered they had other places to be when he approached. If it offended him, Silco gave no sign, but instead he leaned in to you again. “He is close now. Laugh like I’ve said something terribly clever, you look petrified.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, but you did as he asked anyway, and it seemed to help. The tension you had felt in the air around you receded a little, and before you knew it Silco was shaking hands with a tall, portly man. You barely heard as he introduced you as his guest for the night, your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears. Rupert Torek had an open, kind face, his eyes crinkling at the sides when he smiled, and he didn’t seem surprised that Silco had sought him out. You wondered if he had any idea how fucked he was.

“We haven’t met before! I’m Liana, Rupert’s wife,” a voice at your side said, making you start, though you quickly smoothed it over with a smile as you turned to the woman who had appeared next to you, introducing yourself and hoping you sounded like you knew you belonged here, just like she did.

Liana glanced between you and Silco, who had already captured her husband’s full attention. Her brows lowered slightly, and you wondered if she had suspicions about her husband’s gambling. “I didn’t know Silco had a partner,” she said carefully.

“Oh, we’re not…together,” you said, laughing airily. “I’m just accompanying him tonight.”

“I see,” Liana said, though now her smile seemed frozen in place, and you wondered if you’d offended her somehow. But nevertheless she called over a couple of her friends, whose names you quickly forgot, and for a moment you were very pleased with yourself. There was no chance Liana would try to join her husband’s conversation while you had her distracted like this.

It was at this point that things started to go wrong.

In hindsight, you should have realised what Liana thought you were implying when you’d said you were accompanying your boss, and what a topsider would think of that particular occupation. But you were a few minutes into a banal, vapid conversation with Liana and her friends about something that you weren’t really paying attention to before you realised that they all thought you were a whore he’d hired for the night, and apparently found this very offensive judging by the bladed smiles and barbed compliments that started heading your way. It didn’t help that you were inadvertently showing much more skin than any of them – and how you were supposed to know the current fashions topside, you had no idea. Pretty soon your fingers were itching to take off one of your high-heeled shoes and beat Liana’s face in with it, but you couldn’t exactly square up in the middle of a ballroom as if you were in a Zaunite dive bar.

So instead, you just played dumb.

You let the thinly-veiled insults, the insinuations that you didn’t belong among them, glance off you. Nobody spent their whole life in Zaun without growing their own kind of armour. Right now yours was keeping your smile frozen firmly on your face, and so Liana was too busy with you to notice that her husband was making a business deal with the Eye of Zaun himself, right under her powdered nose.

That thought made you glance over at Silco, and the second your eyes met his, you felt a strange sort of calm descend over you. Rupert Torek was still chatting away, not even a hint of discomfort on his round face. Silco gave you a minute, almost imperceptible nod, raising his glass of wine slightly.

It had actually worked.

You tried to keep your face blank. That only became harder when Silco turned his attention back to Torek and you realised that when you’d looked over at him, he’d already been watching you.

-

Soon after, you excused yourself to go to the ladies’ room. You were pretty sure Liana and her friends forgot all about you as soon as you were out of sight – or at least you hoped so. You didn’t want to know what they’d be saying about you as soon as you were out of earshot.

You didn’t head to the bathroom, though. Instead you went out the way you’d come in, not bothering to collect your coat from the doorman as you went down the stone steps as fast as you could without running.

As soon as you were outside, away from the glare of the house’s lights, you felt the tightness that had settled in your chest loosen. You hadn’t even noticed the anxiety creep under your skin with every barb Liana and her friends had thrown your way, but when it finally dissipated you wondered how you’d been able to breathe at all.

You should go back now that you’d got your fresh air. You couldn’t just disappear.

But one glance back at the shadowy figures moving through the ballroom windows had you moving away from the house, into the shadows of the grounds where nobody would notice the Zaunite girl who was hilariously out of place among them.

The pathways were lit by low electric lights, and there was nobody else out here. You chose a path along the edge of the grounds, shielded on one side by a high wall and on the other by a huge rosebush bordering the lawn. You weren’t sure whether you were really supposed to be out here, but nobody stopped you as you wandered further into the grounds. 

Eventually you found a bench and you sat down, tipping your head back to watch the stars in the sky. You’d only ever seen them when Silco sent you up to Piltover on business, and on those nights there was never time to stop and really look at them. Down in the Undercity it was difficult to see the sky at all through the smog, let alone the dozens of stars that shimmered through the haze of Piltover’s lights.

For some reason you couldn’t name, tears sprang to your eyes unbidden, and you tried to blink them away without ruining your makeup.

Of course, that was the moment you heard footsteps approaching.

“Drinking alone already?”

Your head snapped up to see Silco strolling towards you, and it was then that you realised you still had your glass of wine in your hand. You sighed, taking a sip as your boss sat down next to you.

“Just needed some air,” you muttered as Silco slung his arm over the back of the bench. It didn’t escape you that if you leaned back, he would have his arm around you. “How did it go with Torek?”

“I expect we’ll be getting a visit from him or one of his associates in the near future. His wife wasn’t too much for you, I take it?”

“I handled it. But they’re all just so…ugh.”

Silco chuckled as he pulled a cigar from somewhere in his coat, and you tried not to let the sound startle you. You’d never heard Silco laugh before, not even a little, and the sound was surprisingly warm. “Don’t worry, we won’t have to do this again for a while.” You watched as he held the cigar between his crooked teeth as he flicked his lighter, the strange angle of the lights highlighting his sharp cheekbones as he took a long drag.

“You know, I don’t think we’re allowed to smoke out here.”

“I don’t care.” He blew a long puff of smoke out into the crisp night air, staining it with a rich scent of tobacco and spices. “Is something bothering you?”

You searched for words to explain the anger tightening your throat, but came up with nothing that made sense. You were a numbers girl. Words were Silco’s thing. You shrugged. “It’s stupid. It doesn’t matter.”

“I’m asking, so I would say it does.” His voice had hardened, and you glanced over at him in alarm, though he didn’t look angry.

You didn’t want to push it, though, so you sighed and took a sip from your wine to buy a few seconds, feeling Silco’s mismatched gaze on you the whole time. “It’s just…all they did in there was bitch about things. What I was wearing, how I acted, their husbands, their lives. And yet…” you gestured vaguely at your surroundings. The gardens that must have needed a whole team of people to maintain. The lawn that sat empty when it could have grown enough food to feed a whole street of hungry Zaunites. The house. “They have all this, but it’s all they’ve ever had, so they can’t even see how privileged they really are. Meanwhile we have to scrape every penny just to put food on the table and some people in Zaun don’t even get that. If I lived up here I’d never complain about anything ever again,” you finished, and by now you were speaking into your wine glass, your eyes fixed on the ground.

Silco was quiet for a moment, and you didn’t dare glance up at him to see if you could gauge what he was really thinking. You’d never been so candid with your boss before, and you half expected him to leave and pretend tonight had never happened. The very last thing you expected him to say was, “What if I told you that tonight had been something of a test of your loyalties?”

Now you did look up, and he was watching you with that kind of calculated detachment he was so good at, though something in the hard lines of his face had softened. Or maybe it was just the moonlight.

“I don’t understand, sir.”

He took his time answering, taking another long drag of his cigar and releasing the smoke in a ring. “You’ve been with me a short while now, and you’re a very talented accountant. With your skills and some forged papers you could easily find work topside. Something with less risk and more pay.”

You flushed at his insinuation. “You pay me just fine.”

He rolled his eyes. “All wages are higher topside, you know that. You could have walked out of that house with a whole list of people who would pay you far more than I can for the same work, but you didn’t. Instead you stood there and allowed me to work on Torek while everyone in that room thought you were just some girl I’d hired for the night.”

You started to splutter a protest, but it died on your lips when you realised Silco was right. If you’d revealed your real job it would have raised Liana’s suspicions.

“It’s a long road ahead of us until Zaun is an independent nation. The topsiders won’t let us go without a fight,” he said, his voice dropping in case you weren’t alone in the gardens. “There will be times when you are tempted by offers of money, better jobs in better places, employers who won’t ask you to break the topsiders’ laws every day. I needed to know that you were true to the cause, that you would remain loyal to me even when you had the opportunity to make things easier for yourself.”

“You were giving me an out,” you said as it clicked into place. “Why now?”

“Because by now, you know exactly what you’re getting into by staying. Your choice to work for me is a genuine one.”

“So did I pass? Your test, I mean.”

“We would not be sitting here now if you had failed.”

You weren’t involved in the…bloodier side of Silco’s business, but you weren’t ignorant to it, either. You knew what he did to people he suspected of disloyalty. Would he really have let you go if you’d wanted? Or would you have disappeared into the shadows of the Lanes, never to be heard from again? You wouldn’t be the first. But then you realised that you’d never been afraid of that, because you would never give him a reason to doubt your loyalties. Zaun had to break free of Piltover, and he was the only one with the wits, the resources, and the sheer bloody-mindedness to finally cut the undercity free.

A sudden cold breeze blew in off the river, making the hedges surrounding you tremble, and you became acutely aware that you had left your coat inside. Before you could give yourself the chance to think better of it, you leaned back, and as you’d suspected, Silco didn’t move his arm. He didn’t quite put his arm around you, but he traced a circle on your bare shoulder with the back of his thumb, almost as if he was reluctant to touch you in case he scared you off.

“We can return to the party if you wish,” he said, and now he was near enough for his warm breath on your ear to send shivers along your skin that had nothing to do with the chilled night air.

“I prefer it out here.”

“As do I.” He held his cigar between his teeth as he reached into his coat and produced a small metal hip flask.

You couldn’t help but snort as he uncapped it and the smell of whiskey hit your nose. “You brought your own alcohol?”

He took a swig and then passed the flask to you. “Better than the swill they’re serving in there.”

“That swill is probably very expensive.”

“So is this. Drink.”

You took a small sip and were proud of yourself when you didn’t cough, even though the whiskey was strong enough to make your eyes water. A pleasant warm sensation spread out from your chest as you swallowed, though, and you shivered as you licked a drop off your lip. “Definitely tastes expensive.”

You looked up at him, and Silco’s eyes quickly snapped away from your mouth as he made a vague hum of agreement. For a while neither of you spoke, and you only passed the flask back and forth in companionable silence. The music that drifted towards you on the wind picked up in pace, and you heard the occasional drunken shout in the distance. Still nobody ventured into the dark grounds.

“Earlier I told you that you looked acceptable,” Silco said all of a sudden as he tapped out his half-smoked cigar and put it back in the tin. “I believe I should have told you that you look lovely instead.”

You felt a flush creep up your neck, and you risked a glance up at your boss – who had told you that you would look pretty on his arm, who had trusted you with this mission and had noticed when you slipped off to be alone. Nobody ever did that.

Maybe it was the whiskey. Maybe you were delusional or perhaps just stupid. You didn’t really know why you did it, but before you could think better of it, you leaned over and kissed him.

It was only a quick, chaste press of your lips against his, and you instantly regretted it when Silco stayed completely still against you. You jerked backwards, already apologising. “I’m so sorry sir, I shouldn’t—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence. Silco’s hand was firm on the back of your neck as he pulled you towards him and kissed you. Properly this time. It was your turn to freeze in shock, but you quickly got over it as his tongue danced against yours and you tasted whiskey and smoke. You eagerly let him in as he deepened the kiss, shivering as his hand slid up your leg from your knee to your thigh, and for the first time that night you were glad of your too-short skirt.

You gasped in surprise as he pulled you onto his lap, barely breaking the kiss as he made you straddle him, your skirt riding up as your thighs spread. Feeling bold, you ran your hands through his soft hair, and he hummed in approval as you raked your nails through the short hair at the base of his neck. In response he gave your ass a firm squeeze, grinding you down onto his lap.

And onto the hard length beneath you.

You circled your hips against him as he moved down to your neck, holding you in place with a hand in your hair pulling just tight enough to hurt as he bit more than kissed you, leaving marks that would definitely be impossible to hide in this dress. You couldn’t give a shit. No way were you going back into that stupid party after this.

“Tell me how long you’ve wanted this,” Silco said, emphasising his point with a sharp snap of his hips up against you.

“I—” you started, but you could only focus on his hands creeping up your thighs again. Except this time, they didn’t stop.

“Go on,” he coaxed, as if you were supposed to focus on anything except his fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. You hissed as he tugged them down and the cold night air hit your pussy, and it faded into a whimper as he trailed his fingers along your lips, pausing to circle your entrance in a way that made your back arch. “And don’t you dare try to lie to me, sweetheart, because you’re already wet for me.”

“Um…” you tried to focus on anything but the soft, barely-there brush of his fingers against your pussy. Every time you tried to grind against his hand he moved away, keeping his touch just a little too soft, the bastard. “I think – maybe…”

“A few weeks?” he prompted.

“Mm – no…”

He raised an eyebrow, but rewarded your answer by pressing his thumb against your clit, though he still refused to give you what you wanted. Needed.

“Months?”

“Longer. Since… I wanted this since my first day working for you.” Finally, Silco slid one long finger into you as his thumb drew an agonisingly slow circle over your clit, and your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure.

“Do you want to know a secret, my lovely?” he said, his fingers moving faster, obscene wet noises filling the air.

“M-hm.”

“I have you beat. I’ve wanted this since I interviewed you.”

Your eyes flew open at his admission just as he sank another finger into you without warning. Later. You could think about what he’d said later. For now you just let yourself enjoy the curl of his long fingers inside you, the expert ministrations of his thumb on your clit that sent waves of warm pleasure up your spine.

Until the bastard stopped.

He withdrew his hand from you, and his fingers glistened in the moonlight from your wetness. Your eyes widened as he licked them clean, then he motioned for you to stand. “Get up. Go and stand at the end of the bench.”

You followed his directions on shaky legs, and Silco followed, casually strolling around to stand behind you. You had a good idea of what he intended. He trailed his fingers up your bare arms, then fisted one hand in your hair while the other held your bicep in a bruising grip. “If you want this to stop,” he purred in your ear, “say the word now.”

You only pushed back against him, feeling his hard length behind you.

“I thought not.” Then he bent you over the arm of the bench, the ornate steel armrest digging into your hips as he lifted your skirt and pulled your panties down to your knees. You weren’t sure if you shivered with the cool breeze or the anticipation as you heard him unbutton his pants, his hand still in your hair. Then you hissed as you felt the press of his cock against your centre, arched your back as he slid it through your wetness before finally sinking into you as his free hand started playing with your clit once more.

Your voice rose in a high, keening cry as he sheathed himself inside you, easing the ache of his entry with his fingers on your clit. He stopped abruptly, pulling you up by your hair. “Hush now,” he hissed in your ear as he let go of your hair and shoved his fingers in your mouth. You could taste the echo of yourself on his skin. “You don’t want them to think you really are my whore, do you?”

You choked around his fingers for a moment before you relaxed your throat enough that you could shake your head and make a garbled nuh-uh sound, which earned you a low chuckle.

“I didn’t quite catch that, sweetheart,” he said as he started to move, setting a quick, urgent pace that reminded you that anybody could come around the corner and see you bent over a bench with the most powerful man in the Undercity driving into you from behind as you gagged on his fingers. Every thrust of his hips ground yours against the metal armrest, and you knew you’d surely have bruises in the morning. “I wish we were somewhere I could fuck you properly. Take you apart piece by piece until you’re nothing more than a writhing, crying mess in my bed. But perhaps you do like the idea of someone seeing you, seeing how well you’re taking me. How wet you are.” His breathing was becoming shallow as he fucked you, but that didn’t stop the stream of filth from his mouth. “I don’t know about you, but I would kill to see the look on Ko Shosu’s face when he realises we used his party to lure his friend into our web and then defiled his rose garden right under his nose.”

He said something else after that too, but you’d stopped listening to his words and let the low, rough cadence of his voice be the final push you needed over that peak you’d been approaching, once interrupted and now higher than ever. Even Silco’s fingers in your mouth weren’t enough to muffle your cries as you came, your thighs shaking from the strain of standing while your walls clamped down on Silco’s cock, over and over again in waves of agonising bliss. He followed soon after, and you felt a warm rush as he spilled himself inside you with a groan he muffled in your neck.

For a moment you both stood there, catching your breath. You sighed in relief as Silco removed his fingers from your mouth, and after tucking himself away he cleaned you up with a handkerchief before pulling your panties back up for you. “You felt just as good as I’d imagined you would,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your abused scalp.

“Is that something you imagined often, sir?” you said teasingly.

“Most nights,” he murmured into your hair. “And perhaps some days, too.”

Well, damn. You had no idea what to say to that, other than, “Me too.” Maybe you had actually drank too much. “Take me home,” you said, leaning back against his chest as he straightened out your skirts. You felt him smile against your hair.

“It would be my absolute pleasure.”

[dorabledewdroop]

The White Healer Chapter 1

Series Masterlist

X—X—X—X

A loud roar caused you to jerk up straight only to get a stray energy blast straight to your chest, knocking you into a building, breaking your spine and rupturing your lungs. Coughing up blood, you sat their for a second as you felt your spine heal itself, your lungs regenerating. The pain was enough to make you pass out but now wasn’t the time.

“HELP ME PLEASE” A distant voice screamed

Immediately, you ran towards a shop whose roof had caved in. As you neared the shop, a shockwave threw you head first into a crumbled building. You let out a scream as a few metal rods pierced your legs, and shoulder. Whimpering, you pulled them out and felt your body immediately reattach muscle fibres and fix your dislocated bone. 

As soon as you could, you ran towards the shop, jumping in through the broken window. You saw an old man passed out on the floor, part of the roof had crushed his leg. Blood gushed out at a concerning rate as you pulled him out. Immediately you started to heal him, wincing as you felt your leg get crushed and blood drain out of yours. However, to anybody watching, they would see the old mans body glow with a white light wherever he was hurt while your body remained the same, a slight glow emanating from your eyes.

Once he was healed, the man shot up and started looking around frantically.

“Wha-“ he started

“Please” you croaked, kneeling onto the ground. “Run towards the flying rescue ships”

“What did you do? I feel better than I’ve felt in decades” he asked as he stood up and rushed to your side.

“It doesn’t matter. Go. Please” you said, slowly getting up.

As soon as he took off you started walking towards the cathedral, where you heard that roar. If you had to guess, it would be where the avengers were fighting. Those fucking robots were everywhere. While walking, you saw one of the robots enter a jet of some sort. Aiming at the arrow dude. You sprinted in that direction and watched in horror as the jet started firing. However, the arrow guy and the girl he was protecting vanished from your sight, instead some dude with white hair was standing near where they were.

“You didn’t see that coming?” He said, looking at someone (presumably the arrow guy) as he fell, his torso riddled with bullets. Without paying much attention to the jet, you slid to the white haired guys side. His pulse was incredibly weak. Immediately, you pressed your hands against his forehead and chest. From the corner of your eye you saw the arrow guy looking at you as the white haired boy’s bullet wounds started to glow white. You winced as you felt your lungs get ruptured by bullets, your abdomen and heart pierced. Within a few minutes, the white haired boy gasped in a breath. His eyes fluttered as he looked around, finally landing on you.

“What did you do” the boy asked as he slowly sat up.

“I did what I had to” you whispered. 

“We need to go, the city won’t last very long. And the last rescue carrier is about to leave” The arrow guy interrupted.

At once, the white haired boy stood up, grabbed the little girl and zoomed off to the carrier.

Sighing, the arrow guy looked at you, eyes narrowed. “You wanna head in?”

Nodding, you walked with him towards the carrier. To your horror there were so many people with injuries. Unable to help yourself, you knelt besides a woman who had a pretty bad gash on her side.

“Please” you said looking at her glassy eyes “Let me help”

Nodding she closed her eyes as you slowly started to heal her. You felt your side rip open and to your surprise, felt 3 of your ribs break. She sighed in content as you finished healing her. Letting her rest you walked towards the next victim, this time a little boy who was cradling his arm. He had some blood running down the side of his head. You knelt next to him and asked him the same question. Once he gave his consent, you brought your hands to his chest and slowly healed him. His glowing head and arm brought attention from everyone on the life raft. They all watched as you healed him, letting out a pained groan. One by one, every person on the carrier had been healed and was resting. You could feel your body screaming at you. While the injuries you healed on others wouldn’t physically show on yourself, you would feel exactly what happened to them and heal before they could be visible. This meant your mind would register every single injury. You sat in the corner of the raft. Eyes drooping from exhaustion.

You heard more than saw the white haired boy sit next to you.

“Thank you. I thought I had died.. I’m Pietro, by the way. Pietro Maximoff” He started.

“Y/N Y/L/N. And it’s no problem” you mumbled

He noticed your exhausted state. Chuckling, he put his hand on your knee

“Get some rest. I’ll look out for you” he said comfortingly.

With that you let darkness take over, succumbing to the fatigue.

[jeysbvck]

it always leads to you (in my hometown)

oh hi, im back after almost a year of not posting fics, and of course it's my main man who pulls me back in! this is my first jey uso fic, so pls comment & reblog & let me know what you think!! i tried to make it angsty, to fit the song more, but i guess that's not the direction my brain wanted to go!!

jey uso x afab!reader

smut, 18+, minors dni!!

word count: 2,420

some people i thought might like this (if you don't wanna be tagged, just let me know!): @southerngirl41 @bebesobrielo @harmshake @afterdarkprincess @rollinsland @wrestlezaynia @crxssjae

summary: when you're in town for the holidays, it always ends up with you in jey usos bed for the weekend. this time, it isn't enough, and jey shows you why you can't leave him behind.

You stared out the window, feeling content as you watched the snow fall outside, frost gathering on the glass. You and Jey had spent all weekend in bed, sleeping half the day away and sharing body heat in more ways than one; which is how you spent all the fleeting weekends together. You had so much to do before you left in two days, but you couldn't bring yourself to leave the warm bed, especially when Jey was sleeping beside you, looking like a literal angel.

This had been happening for the last four years and you remembered it all too well; the bewildered, haunted look when Jey locked eyes with you for the first time in years, like he'd seen a ghost. You remembered the ice that ran through every vein in your body when he walked past you without acknowledging you, making you consider whether you were a ghost. You remember lying in your childhood bedroom, old photographs of you and Jey still on your walls, staring down at you, judging you. You knew you'd hurt him when you left, he didn't think your reasons were good enough; but it never crossed your mind that he'd pretend you were a stranger. But as you stared at the posters and photographs on your walls, you realised that you were a stranger now, you didn't recognise the girl in the photographs anymore.

A few days later, you bumped into Jey again, this time you were both alone, walking past the school you used to share, and things seemed different. He opened a dialogue, asked you how you'd been, asked about your life, and before you knew it, you'd been standing in the cold for half an hour. Jey offered you a ride, and you weren't ready for this to end; it felt familiar, but also new. So you accepted and you drove around the small town, commenting on how things hadn't changed. Four hours later, you were in his bed, doing things you had only dreamed about.

You thought it would be a one-off, that maybe the universe was giving you a better goodbye than the first time, a better reunion than the one in the bar. But the next holiday you were in town, he text you, and you ended up in his bed again. Then Jey started surprising you at the airport -sometimes you hadn't even told him what time your flight was- and although he dropped you off at your parents house, it wasn't long before you were spending most of the time with Jey. It was essentially a weekend-long holiday hook up, a way to make you feel less lonely during the holidays and a way to have what could've been -what should've been- if you had just stayed.

Jey stirred in his slumber, retracting his arm that was stretched over you, taking away the warmth and leaving a chill behind, as you pulled the quilt up further, you couldn't help but think of it as a metaphor for how you would feel in a couple of days when you left. You turned your back on the beautiful view outside the window to the -in your totally, unbiased opinion- the more beautiful view next to you. Even after all the years of knowing Jey, he still took your breath away, he still set your heart ablaze. Every time you were here, you took every opportunity to mentally record every detail of him to take back with you. Every new grey hair, every tattoo, every laughter line, every perfect imperfections, you took it all in. You basked in the warmth, the comfort, the happiness that you felt in this bed, knowing it would all be over in a flash.

"Mornin' babe," Jey said, with a sleepy smile, "you're watchin' me sleep, forgot you were a creep."

You hummed in response as you leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his pillow-like lips. "And I forgot you snore." You teased, and Jey scoffed, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck, pulling you in for another kiss.

"Such a liar." He mumbled against your lips and you smiled, pulling away and finding your place on his chest. Your fingertips traced the lines of his intricate tattoo on his chest, as his stroked your back, soothingly.

The time you spent with Jey, in this bed, the room, the house; felt like a different world. Like reality as you know it didn't exist here, it was just you and Jey, and nothing else mattered. You hated leaving, you hated getting on the plane, going back to your life like you hadn't just left the warmest place you'd ever known.

"So..." Jey started, and you knew what was coming. The dreaded question that he asked every time. "How long we got? Until you-"

You cut him off, not wanting the words to be said, as if it somehow wouldn't happen if Jey didn't speak it into the universe. "I know what you mean, Jey." You sighed. "Can't we just stay in this bubble for a little longer?"

"How much longer? Like, you wanna talk later, over dinner? Or how about the mornin' of your flight so we barely get to say goodbye?" He snapped, and you scoffed at the outburst. "Ay, you're the one who-"

"Okay," you cut him off before he finished the sentence, sitting up and throwing your legs over the edge of the bed, grabbing the robe that had been thrown on the floor the night before as you stood up and pulled it over your body. "You really wanna spend the time arguing?"

"No! I jus'-" Jey groaned and turned on his side, his elbow resting on the mattress. "Okay listen, I know our whole thing; no stayin', no waitin', but-"

"No Jey, this works!" You lied. You knew you were trying to convince him more than yourself, because you knew it wasn't working. If it did, leaving him wouldn't break your heart, you wouldn't spend the year counting down to the next holiday. Nobody in your life knew you like Jey. They didn't know which smiles you were faking, or which laughs were genuine. They didn't even know your coffee order, or your favourite film.

"This works for you? This is enough for you?" Jey asked. "Because it isn't for me."

You bit your lips, you'd expected this every time, you knew it would happen eventually. Jey was always going to find someone who could give him more than you could offer.

"What are you saying?" You asked. "You don't-you wanna end this?"

Jey got his knees and shuffled towards you, leaning up and cupping your face with his hands, his eyes level with yours. "I don't wanna end this." He said. "I wanna be with you."

"Jey," you whispered, hoping he could see in your eyes how much love you have for him. "I can't- We can't-"

"Ay, just listen." Jey said. "What if I came wit' you?"

You stared at him, speechless, your face still in his hands. "That's not funny."

"It ain't supposed to be funny."

"Stop it. You can't just say stuff like this, not in here, not like this when we're all caught up in the bubble!" You said, throwing your hands around. "You have your family here, a life here, you're just gonna leave it all behind?!"

"Didn't stop you." Jey retorted, and you rolled your eyes.

"That was different! I didn't pack up my life to follow someone across the country!" He smirked at you, making you roll your eyes a second time.

"Ay, you think highly of yourself, don't ya?" He joked, but you groaned and pulled his hands away from your face, putting your own over your face. "What if I ain't doin' it for you? What if I'm doin' it for me?" He asked. He pulled your hands from your face and held them. "I know you tell me not to, but I wait, babe. I wait for you to call, to text, I ask your parents when you're comin', so I can wait at the airport for you. I don't wanna wait anymore, I wanna be wit' you, for real, and you can't stay."

You bit the inside of your cheek, refusing to let yourself smile, and you turned your back on him, sitting back down on the bed. He was saying all the right things, wearing your favourite smile, and it was hard to be logical right now. This was never an option, because what if he ended up resenting you? Having Jey sporadically in your life through the year was better than the alternative.

Jey ran his hands up and down your arms, planting little kisses on your shoulder and neck. "Jus' think about it, babe." He whispered in your ear as he kissed your neck. "We can have more than jus' weekends." His hands slid over your skin, grazing your breasts as he followed a path down to your stomach, sending shivers through your whole body. "We can do this-" His hand slipped into your underwear, teasing you. "-whenever we want."

You tilted your head back, leaning it against his shoulder as he nibbled your neck, and you hummed, bucking your hips in an attempt to get his fingers exactly where you needed them. He clicked his tongue before he dug his teeth into your neck, a moan escaping your mouth as his fingers teased your entrance.

His hard cock was pressed against your back, and as he played and teased you, you reached around and grabbed his cock. He rutted against your hand, moaning into your neck as you stroked the long length, the action making him push two fingers inside you. They moved inside you, matching the pace of your hand on his cock; when you slowed down, he did, and when you quickened the pace, he did too.

Jey upped the ante, his thumb flicking over your clit, making your hips buck, your grip on his cock tightening, making it twitch. Jey groaned into your shoulder, and when you ran your thumb over his tip, he pulled away from your hand. "Nah, you're gonna make me cum." He mumbled into your shoulder. He kissed your skin again, before pulling his fingers out of your cunt, making you whimper pathetically. You watched as he slipped off the bed and pushed you backwards on the bed before getting on his knees. "Gotta remind you what you'll be missin' if you leave without me." He smirked, burying his head in between your legs.

You moaned loudly as he flattened his tongue against your cunt, slowly licking every part of you. He quickened the pace, and just as you arched your hips, he pinned them against the bed, while pushing two fingers inside you, his tongue flicking and sucking your clit. This was euphoric, you writhed underneath him as he drove you wild. Jey knew exactly what he was doing and his plan was working, you knew that he could ask you for anything right now -doing that thing with his tongue- you'd say yes to anything and everything.

"So wet for me." He muttered against you, nibbling the inside of your thigh as he fucked you with his fingers. All you could do was gasp and moan as he didn't give you a moment to breathe, sucking your clit and fucking you with his tongue. You tried to hold out, to delay your orgasm, but it wasn't long before you let yourself go, bundling the sheets in your hands as your thighs gripped his head.

Jey pulled back and crawled up your body, his thick, hard cock grazing your cunt, making your body twitch. He grinned down at you, his beard glistening with your juices, his dark eyes full of lust and you pulled him down by the chain around his neck for a kiss, your tongues dancing with each other as you ran your hands down his toned back. He rubbed his cock against your cunt, and you bucked your hips against him. "Fuck me, Jey." You managed to gasp, and he grinned at you, his eyes darkening more. He grabbed your wrists with one hand and pinned them above your head, forcing you to maintain eye contact as he pushed his cock inside you, moaning with you as your cunt tightened around him.

Your moans were lost in Jeys mouth as your bodies rocked together, your kisses getting rougher and more passionate. His free hand playing with your breasts, switching between them, refusing to let your hands free. "Such a good girl, takin' my cock like this." He grunted and you threw your head back as he attacked your neck once again. Your orgasm was bubbling up inside you, your legs beginning to shake as he fucked you harder and deeper, his own orgasm imminent. He brought his lips back to yours, the kiss slower, but not less passionate, and when he let go of your hands to grip your hips, you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

"Shit, baby, I'm so close." He groaned, burying his head into the crook of your neck, his thrusts getting harder. You rolled your hips making his cock twitch inside you, and in all the bliss and passion as your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, three words slipped out of your mouth.

"Come with me." You whispered, nibbling his earlobe. "So close." He repeated, and you grabbed his head, making him look at you.

"No Jey, come with me." You said, and he looked in your eyes, he flashed you that beautiful smile -one that could light up a starless night sky. You nodded, and he kissed you, just as his own orgasm hit, and he thrusted into you a few more times, his moans being caught by your mouth.

He dropped onto you; his body like a welcome weighted blanket, and you wrapped your arms around him as he lay on your chest. "Did ya mean it?" He asked quietly. You ran your fingers through his hair, and thought about what you said. You hadn't meant to say it, especially in that moment, it had just slipped out. You also hadn't meant to confirm it was in fact, what you meant. But you meant it with your whole heart, and you knew as soon as Jey voiced it as an option, you knew you couldn't leave him behind again.

"I mean it, Jey. I've never meant anything more."