#I AM SO SORRY IF IT HELPS THE ART FUCKING SLAPS ANYWAY
Note
So I saw a fanart you reblogged from haunts-n-dice and I just … my brain won’t let this go I’m sorry I’m not trying to be rude I just have to ask.
Do you watch Dimension 20: Neverafter or did you think a fanart of Ylfa from D20 was Double Life Pearl Fanart?
…………..anon listen eventually mcyt fanart often playing around with and not matching the skins exactly and often looking like other things was going to bite me but I thought it would be my preexisting “I like naruto” not everyone else getting into dimension 20 around me while I wasn’t paying attention oh no,
#answered#I AM SO SORRY IF IT HELPS THE ART FUCKING SLAPS ANYWAY#I FEEL REALLY BAD NOW I NORMALLY CHECK IF IM UNCERTAIN#SO THAT I DONT… POTENTIALLY EMBARASS MYSELF……. OR OFFEND ARTIST#THE ART IS REALLY GOOD I PROMISE#wails my dash is normally like 90% mcyt so normally I’m safe I’m a FOOL#leaving the reblog there for now anyway though because as mentioned the art still slaps
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Not That Kind of Guy
Part Fourteen: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series
Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, gun play, GEN. SMUT [all possible tags, not necessarily all apply]
Info: Ghost is whiny, He’s feeling petty, he told you so!![diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. Stalker!Anakin Character art (as Ghost) MDNI 18+
Diary Entry: September 2nd
I lied. I said I wasn’t mad at you, but I am.
It’s not like I tell you no to anything, so why wouldn’t you just ask me first? Are you just desperate for a moment away from me and too nice to tell me that? Running from your problems won’t help especially when your problem is me.
I did what I should’ve done a long time ago. A new software has been installed on your phone, very similar to the screen cloning software linked to my laptop. Only this one is active all the time, a constant feed of live audio that I’ve taken the liberty of flagging a few words within the code.
Anakin, hate, love, Ghost, annoying, angry… so on and so forth.
The software flagged several sections of audio within the timeframe of your drive to the cabin. I must say, I’m surprised about the things the two of you talk about, I’m never going to be able to look Han in the eye ever again.
I also lied to you about something else. I don’t work tonight, or tomorrow. I switched up my schedule with April for you, cause I have a little something planned for you. A little thing I’ve had tucked away, actually never intended on getting it out and doing anything with it really. It was a gift from Cliegg after there was a murder on the college campus last year.
Don’t worry, it wasn’t me that time.
Anyway, I think it might be fun. For me at least.
“Okay but I don’t get it.” Luke said, propping up his feet on the dash while you drove.
“What about it don’t you get?” You snorted, slowing to a stop at a traffic light. “I think it’s pretty self explanatory Luke.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t come equipped with a cooter and I’ve never, nor wanted, the opportunity to see one.” He crossed his arms and tilted his head back and rolled his shoulders. “I just don’t see the benefit.”
“First of all, it’s pretty.” Holding a finger up and adding a second, “second, it feels heavenly.”
“I am a gay man.” Luke scoffed, “Dicks aren’t very pretty. A little jewelry can’t fix that.”
“How does it even work? Does he have to take it out to piss? That’s inconvenient.”
“No!” You laughed, covering your mouth as you turned the dial to quiet the radio. “No, he doesn’t have to take it out. To answer your other question, it’s the metal balls on either end of the jewelry. That’s the point of the piercing you know? It rubs up-“
“Okay that’s enough, thoughts have been thunk.” He covered his ears and did a dramatic shiver of disgust.
“You asked!”
“I didn’t know you’d be so descriptive!”
“You described in great detail all about the massive ingrown hair on-“
“Oh my god! I told you never to mention that again!” Luke reached across the console and whacked you up the back of the head.
“I’m driving!” You squealed, your hand shooting out to the side and shoving his shoulder. “No, don’t you dare touch that radio! For fucks sake if that’s-“
“It’s ABBA.”
“Go to hell.”
————————————————————————
After two hours you reached the small lakeside cabin that was to be your home for the weekend. A cute little place with a loft and two small bedrooms. The kitchen was… lackluster; a fridge and a stove with a whopping number of three cabinets. The living room however did have a pool table, which in Luke’s eyes made up for the fact that your sister beat him to claiming the loft room, because she’d driven separately and arrived before you.
You chose the room to the left of the living room and Luke chose the one on the right. The view from your window was beautiful deep forest green, leaves and moss and huge tree trunks. While Luke’s was the deep blueish green lake water, the occasional white wake following a boat zipping past.
After tossing your bag onto the floor in the general direction of the nightstand you jumped onto the squishy and super cheap springy mattress on the tacky ‘rustic’ log bed. Pulling up Anakin’s contact you tapped the call button and listen to it ring on speakerphone.
“Hey pretty baby.” Anakin’s rich timbre flooded the line.
“Hi Ani.” You smiled despite him not being able to see you. “Just got into the cabin and picked my room.”
“Oh you got to pick?” He said curiously, “you got the loft didn’t you?” You could hear his grin.
“No, my sister did.” You scoffed, “I thought Luke would have a cow over it but he decided the pool table here would offset his disappointment.”
“Pool table hmm?” Anakin tsk’d.
“Hot tub too.” You grinned.
“A fuckin’-“ he groaned and let out a loud huff, “a hot tub?”
“Yes sir.”
“Hmph.” He snorted, “someone finally taught you some manners huh?”
“W-what?” You asked nervously, bringing the phone closer to you and hopping off the bed to shut the door. “Manners?”
“You just called me Sir didn’t you?” He laughed. “Been taking some etiquette classes?”
“Oh shut up.” You breathed out a sigh, a breath you’d almost choked on. Your guilty conscience was really beginning to steam roll your daily life, even on your mini-vacay you can’t escape your wrongdoings. Ghost was still haunting you all the way out here.
“Just teasing doll.” He snickered, “Anyway, what’s on your agenda?”
“Nothing for tonight, probably gonna sit on the dock and have some drinks, do a little bonfire, hot tub maybe.” You told him, beginning to relax again.
“Drinks? Be careful baby. It’s not exactly safe to drink and get into a hot tub.” He chided, “I’m serious.”
“I know.” You sighed, rolling your eyes.
“Good girl.” He said, pleased enough with your response. “So what room did you say?”
“Oh! I didn’t actually oops. I got the one looking out into the woods, it’s real pretty, I’ll send you a picture after we hang up.” You said, shifting your weight to sit more comfortably.
“Aw thanks babydoll.” You could hear his little smile through his words. “Well, I should probably let you get back to it huh?” He sighed.
“If you wanna talk more-“
“I always wanna talk more but I don’t want to keep you from your fun.” He said a bit quieter. “Uh, just don’t forget to call and leave me a message before bed okay baby? I’d love to hear your pretty voice when I get off work tonight.”
“Okay Ani,” nodding even though he couldn’t see you. “I’ll talk to you soon then… I miss you.”
“I love you too.” He made a kissy noise and hung up quickly, leaving you with a frustrated, pinched brow that you reached up to sooth with the heel of your palm.
After snapping a quick picture of your view through the bedroom window, you rejoined your trio in the living room where Luke was teaching your sister to play pool. You stood and watched for a moment, seeing them bicker like they were just reminded you of how much you loved summer trips with them.
Growing up with a sister close in age to you was fun, except for when it wasn’t. She went to school before you did, made friends before you did. Of course you were only two grades behind, but there is a big difference between kindergarten and 2nd grade. She had always been happy to play with you until then.
So when she was meant to be paying attention to you, or at least making sure you were alive, while you were both outside… she was busy on the swing set in your backyard. Which is how you found yourself with scraped knees and (surely, most definitely) a broken ankle from your scooter.
A new family had moved in across the street from you not too long before the summer started, you hadn’t met them, didn’t even know they had kids, until you were being pecked on the shoulder by another child’s finger. After that, Luke was found wherever you were; glued at the hip was an understatement, your families were convinced you were soulmates, that you’d grow up to be married.
Jokes on them.
His sister Leia was outgoing and confident in ways that Luke lacked, so during that first summer she gravitated toward your sister. The twins became a binder, something that held the four of you together. Bridging the gap perfectly between kindergarten and 2nd grade as 1st graders.
It stayed that way, for the rest of your school years and after.
Your parents got along swimmingly, the four of you floated between the two houses. Nights often ending up with a pair of kids asleep in the floor, where one of those children did not belong. A quick phone call to the house across the street to make sure your sibling was there, then all was well and your parents would scoop Luke and you up and tuck you in.
You were seven the first summer your parents had the grand idea to spend a week on the lake. It was a tearful goodbye, kids who spent every possible waking moment with each other are not easily pried apart.
Your parents drove the full two hours to a cute lake house they’d found online and within the first 30 minutes of being there your father had enough of the sniffles and whines. By dinner time Luke, Leia and their parents were sitting around fire pit with you.
Thus your annual tradition was born and kept even after the horrid aftermath of Luke’s unexpected outing. Sans parents of course. Your father supported your mother even if his views didn’t fully align with hers. He was a ‘be gay, just don’t be gay in front of me’ type of person, while your mother was more of the ‘send him to conversion camp, he’s tainting my children’ type of gal.
That didn’t really jive with the whole ‘love and positivity’ approach that the twins parents had about the situation. Which leaves you where you are now, reminiscing on those happy childhood memories before everything got complicated, before you discovered the world outside of your safety net, before the consistent visits from your uninvited house guest.
A loud clap broke you out of the fog and suddenly you were hyper aware of your sister’s nose right in front of your face.
“Lauren!” You gasped, your eyes wide before softening into a grin.
“You’ve been staring into oblivion for a solid minute,” she giggled, “I thought about sticking my finger in your mouth but I was afraid you’d bite it off.”
“My mouth?” You asked confusedly.
“Yeah you’ve been catching flies, looking like a mouth breather.”
“Eew! Don’t call me that!” You scoffed, standing up and following her over to the pool table to discuss your evening plans.
——————————————————————————
Anakin watched your little blue dot travel back and forth from the cabin to the dock, he listened the chatter between the three of you as he drove the two hours out to the pine forest your weekend getaway was taking place. The mile long gravel driveway was perfect to stash his car off to the side of, no one would be coming in or out of the drive all weekend.
He walked through the woods, backpack slung over his shoulder, his hood up and mask on. It was 9:57 and the three of you were still on the dock. He could hear you talking about getting into the hot tub through the Bluetooth earbud he had in, that new software was really paying off.
He hadn’t planned to do this next bit, but he couldn’t help himself. He purposefully got his left shoe dirty, twisting his foot side to side in order even dirt for a proper footprint. Then he left his mark on the first step up to the front porch.
*ping*
‘Having fun?’
You laughed, picking up your phone and leaning back in your chair as you crossed one leg over the other and switched the sound off. You’d only had it on for when Anakin texted, and now he was. Or you thought he was until you realized the text came from your own number.
‘No. Don’t engage. He’s not going to know where you are, how could he possibly know?’ You thought to yourself. ‘I planned this in person, I told Anakin at his place not mine. All Ghost knows is that you’ve left for the weekend.’
You swiped the message away and let out a huff, deciding to take the opportunity to walk back up to the house and call your boyfriend.
“Guys I’m going up to the cabin, gonna call Ani.” You said, standing up and taking your hard lemonade with you. “Need anything?”
“Nope, we’re about ready to head back anyway.” Lauren answered, waving you off. “We’ll be up soon.”
With that you walked away, taking the worn dirt path back up to the house and dialed Anakin’s number, waiting for the voicemail to pick up your call.
‘Hey Ani.’ You smiled, crossing one arm across your chest to rest your other elbow on while you talked. ‘I’m probably not going to bed just yet, but I am going back up to the house. I just wanted to fill you in a little bit I guess.’
Once your shoes hit the gravel you absentmindedly kicked a larger rock off to the side, swinging out your leg and shifting your position to walk backwards, looking down at your sister and Luke on the dock.
‘We’ve been just hanging out all evening, made some sandwiches and had drinks by the water.’ You pivoted again as you neared the porch and looked down to ensure your footing before taking the first step up. ‘We’re going hiking tomorrow morn-‘
You scrunched up your face and took another look before backing away from the steps completely, your eyes scanned the porch and saw the cabin door was still shut.
‘Sorry, thought I saw something…’ you muttered into the phone, spinning slowly in a full circle to take a better look at the tree line. ‘I- okay, anyway. Going hiking tomorrow… probably swim too. There’s a canoe moored down there so maybe we’ll try that out.’
Off to the left of you behind your sisters car you swore you heard gravel crunching underfoot, but when you looked toward the dock, Luke and Lauren where still sitting there. You marched over to the opposite side and saw nothing, going so far as to look under her car and yours.
‘Okay well…’ You were certain now that someone was outside and you were not alone, your phone buzzed against you ear and you pulled it away to swipe away the message, not even registering the sender before holding your phone back up to your ear.
‘Uh alright well I’ll talk to you in the morning,’ you quickly walked back over to the porch steps and side eyed the footprint as if you’d expected it to disappear by now. ‘Goodni-‘
A strange feeling passed over you, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up and a chill ran down your spine like a drip of cold water. You were almost afraid to turn around.
‘I gotta go, Miss you bunches… goodnight.’ In your panicked state you didn’t have the same thought process you normally would, you’d simply ended the call and whipped your head around, expecting to find someone, something, that might’ve caused that hair-raising fear. There was nothing.
Breathing a sigh of relief you laughed at yourself. It had probably just been a rabbit, maybe you’d startled it and it kicked up some gravel. The footprint… it could have been there when you arrived, it could’ve been made by one of your group, including you.
You checked the message you’d swiped away and your blood ran colder than ice. Your rational explanations were bulldozed in seconds.
A picture of you, standing in the drive way, taken from behind your sisters car.
The breath was stolen from your lungs. Your sight was locked into tunnel vision, all you could see was the front door as you ran to it and pushed it open. Colliding with something solid and warm as you stepped inside.
Something living and breathing that gripped your hair and cradled you to its chest, something that kicked the front door shut and pressed a cold, blunt object to the temple of your head.
Something that made you want to scream.
Diary Entry: September 2nd continued
I have time to kill and nothing to do while I wait for you. So I figured I’d write alittle bit.
I’m currently sitting under a tree, watching you and your cute little ponytail swishing around while you giggle. You’re so beautiful. Everything you do is beautiful. I’ve never seen something as exquisite as you.
Maybe that’s part of the reason I want to ruin you so bad. Leading you, my innocent doe, down the path of corruption could quite possibly be my life’s work. How would you like that sweetheart?
You wanna be my magnum opus?
Though of course we do have the one small identity issue to take care of. I need to get my shit together and figure out what the fuck I’m going to do. It’s not like I can tippity tap it into Google: ‘how to tell my girlfriend I’ve been stalking her for almost a year’.
No thank you. I don’t trust WikiHow with the fate of my love life.
Let’s be for real. I don’t even trust myself with the fate of my love life because I’ve already managed to fuck shit up. I’m continuing to fuck shit up. What I’m about to do? It’ll fuck the fuck out of the shit.
What can I say other than love makes people do crazy things?
“Ghost.” Your voice was wobbly and unsure. “Is that a-“
“Gun? Absolutely.” He grunted, pressing the barrel into your skull.
“What are you doing? They’re gonna be back soon, you can’t be here!”
“I came to chat.” He said simply, leaning his head down to put the cheek of his mask against your warm skin. “I missed you.”
“Did you miss me? Is that why you left your boyfriend back home? Wanted to let me have you all to myself for a weekend?”
“No!” You snapped at him, twisting your head away from his.
“Heard you on the phone.” He cooed, “still can’t say the L word? Why’s that?”
“If Luke sees you… my sister- they’ll call the cops, you know that.” You pushed against his chest and felt it rumble with a low laugh beneath your palms.
“Stop deflecting, answer my question.”
“I told you I wasn’t going to talk about Anakin with you!” The whisper left your lips tainted in unease.
“I’m aware. That’s why we aren’t talking about it. You’re going to tell me.” He barked, holding you close to his chest and walking backwards toward your chosen bedroom.
“N-no, I won’t. That’s not fair.”
“It’s not fair?” He scoffed. “I don’t care if you think it’s unfair.”
“How did you find me?!” You wriggled from his arms the moment he closed the bedroom door.
“I know everything about you baby.” His voice low and much too confident for you to believe anything otherwise. He looked relaxed in the way that he reached behind himself and locked the door, leaning back on it and crossing his arms, one long leather finger running parallel to the barrel of the pistol.
“I just wanted one weekend!” You shouted taking off your sneaker and throwing it at him, he gave you no reaction and it only pissed you off more. “Just one!”
“One weekend away from you! I know you can see everything on my phone, you see and hear everything I do, why do you think I wasn’t the one planning this trip? I didn’t want you showing up here!” Yelling at him in a way you never had before as you stalked toward him with your other shoe pointed at him. “I don’t want to talk about Anakin with you! I don’t want to tell you how I feel!”
“Do you want to know how I feel?” He asked calmly.
“I don’t give a shit!” You chucked the shoe at him and he batted it away easily.
“I think you do.” The gun raised up to his mask as if he were scratching his forehead with the barrel. “I think you care a lot and that’s why you won’t tell me.”
You didn’t answer, because he was right. You did care and you did care a lot. You’d been avoiding telling Anakin you loved him to spare Ghost the hurt of having to hear you say it to someone else.
“No.” You stuttered, hesitating and hating the taste of the word on your tongue.
“Don’t lie to me.” He barked, holding out the pistol and motioning for you to move. “Kneel. Now.”
“Gods, seriously? Put your arms down, you idiot.” He scoffed as he watched you lift your hands and put them behind your head like you were being arrested as you knelt down slowly.
“Well I’m sorry. I’ve never been held at gunpoint before.” You snapped, scowling up at him.
“I’m so lucky to have to honor of being your first then.” He grumbled, tucking it into the back of the waistband of his jeans while pulling the pink silk from his pocket and tossing it at you.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” His voice gruff as the toe of his shoe tapped your knee. “Put it on.”
Ghost shook his head, undoing his belt buckle, the tail end of the leather now forever imprinted with your teeth marks. You did as you were told and heard his pants unzip along with a soft grunt.
“How many fingers am I holding up?” He asked, holding his flat palm out to the side to make sure you couldn’t see, rearing back to slap you.
“How should I kn-“ *smack* “ow?! What the fuck?”
“Just making sure.” He snickered, taking off his gloves and putting them in his hoodie pocket.
“Asshole.” You mumbled.
“What was that?” He asked with a playful tone. “You want me to fuck your asshole? Is that what you said?”
“Shut up. You know that’s not what I said.” You muttered, unable to keep your lip from curving upward just a fraction of a centimeter.
“Ah well, the offer still stands.” He chuckled, tapping the side of your jaw with the cold metal barrel of his pistol.
“You’re making me nervous waving it around like that.” You huffed, jerking away from it.
“Good.” He snorted, “open your mouth.”
You did exactly that, thinking you’d feel the warm weighty head of his cock hit the tip of your tongue. Hoping for a taste of the salty precum that wept from his cockhead. You weren’t expecting something small, cold, metallic and pellet shaped.
“Don’t swallow; this is the only time you’ll ever hear me say that so you better listen.” You could hear his smarmy grin. “Roll it around, you feel that?”
“Mhm.” You nodded, feeling the smooth metal and the grooves carved into it, opening your mouth again and he plucked it off the tip of your tongue.
“Your initials, or well… what your initials should be.” He mumbled the last bit.
You hear a series of mechanical and metallic noises, followed by the unmistakable sound of a firearm cocking back.
“You did not just-“
“I did.” He snickered, holding the gun sideways and pointing it directly in the center of your forehead. The blunt edge digging into your flesh and pressing down against your skull.
“Spread your fingers.”
“Why?” You asked as you splayed your hand.
“Do you have to question everything?” You felt thick metal circle your middle and ring finger, dropping to the base of each digit, barely making any contact with your skin on its descent. It really put in perspective just how much bigger than you he was.
Even more so when you felt his warm, calloused fingertips weave their way between yours and squeeze gently. The tender gesture did nothing to quench the fear sitting heavy on your chest. A loaded gun, a loaded and ready to fire gun was about an inch from your brain.
“C’mon, you don’t want to talk? Not even like this?” Condescension dripping from his lips. “Loaded gun to your head and you still won’t talk about your feelings.” He tsk’d.
“It’s not your business.”
“See that’s where you’re wrong. We’ve already had this discussion haven’t we?” He crouched down in front of you, air rushing past from the quick motion. “It is my business. You were mine first.”
The curved edge of the barrel traveled down your forehead, across your cheek and rested heavily on your bottom lip.
“Give it a kiss for good luck little doe.” Ghost spoke low and steady, almost monotone. Considering your situation you did as you were told once again.
“Good girl.” He stood back up and pushed the waistband of his boxers down by hooking his thumb beneath the elastic. “Now get to work, bitch.”
His tone had changed again, now a sharp and hard edge that smacked you like a cold wind. Emotional whiplash was to be expected in every encounter you had with Ghost, but none so far was as bruising as this.
He’d never brought a gun to a knife fight before.
You hesitated for a moment longer than he was willing to wait, so he dropped your hand, the small bit of comfort he’d allowed you to have. Grabbing the back of your head and forcing his swollen cockhead past your lips, cool metal returning to the center of your forehead.
You gagged and spluttered around his length, the hot and leaky cockhead bruising the back of your throat. Ghost seemed to love the sound, loved feeling you cough and try to gasp for air, his hand tightened in your hair as he let out a loud and gravely moan.
“You suck cock so much better with your life on the line.” He laughed, pulling you away from him and releasing your hair. He watched you cough and wipe drool off your chin and neck with the back of your hand.
“Ready to talk?” He asked, his breathing heavy and uneven.
“Fuck you.” Spitting the words out with venom.
“Sorry sweetheart that’s not on the agenda tonight.” You felt the rush of air before his palm made contact with your cheek, your hand immediately lifting to cradle it and feel the heat radiating from the irritated flesh.
“C’mon doe, I don’t have to be mean about this.” He barked, “Just use your big girl words.”
“L-Luke’s gonna be back up here any minute.” You stuttered, lifting your head in the general vicinity of where his would be.
“You realize you’re only making this more difficult for yourself right?” He asked, not giving you the opportunity to answer when he fisted your hair and forced your lips to meet the tip of the barrel of his pistol.
*shk* *click* **click** nothing.
Before you had time to process the fact that he had just pulled the trigger of a loaded gun in your mouth, you were being choked and not given any hope for breathing. His forefinger and thumb tightly clamped over your nose and his cock lodged in your throat as he fucked your face. Instinctively you tried to draw in a breath, accidentally breathing in saliva, making you cough so hard that Ghost had no choice but to back off.
“Ghost...” You dry heaved on your hands and knees. “I’m n-not gonna tell you.”
“What’s it gonna take huh?” He asked angrily, you could hear the sound of clothes rustling just before he lifted you up and shoved you over toward the bed. “What’s it gonna take for you to admit that you love me?”
“I don’t!” You yelled, taking off the blindfold and tossing it aside.
“I didn’t say you could take that off.” He snapped at you while pulling his gloves on, snatching the ring off your middle finger and shoving it down in his pocket. He whipped his head around toward the door suddenly.
“Shit.” He shoved the gun in the back of his waist band and grabbed his bag without explanation.
“What?” You asked sitting up on the bed.
���Gotta go.” He grumbled.
He grabbed the blindfold and slipped it back over your head, grabbing your jaw and tilting your head back, his lips met yours in a soft embrace. His tongue piercing gliding across the slit between your lips before pushing past them slowly, the taste of cigarettes and gum flooded your senses. He hadn’t tasted like this last time he kissed you.
He took one of your wrists in a gentle grip and brought it to his cheek. Ghost kept a loose grip on your wrist but he allowed you to feel the smooth skin beneath his eyes, your fingertips collecting the smallest amount of moisture in the outer corner of his eye.
He was crying.
He broke the kiss, your lips begging to stay connected to his. As much as you hated to admit it to yourself that kiss felt like home. The fact that he was shedding tears was unsettling, the car crash that was this relationship had officially gone beyond whiplash and into ‘trapped inside, in need of the jaws of life’ territory.
He took the same hand and pressed it to the center of his chest and left it there to put both his gloved hands on either side of your face, pressing his lips to your forehead. Their warmth left your skin and you immediately wanted it back.
He took the blindfold back off and smoothed out your hair quickly, putting the silk in his pocket and putting up his hood. The mask back where it belonged, those black pits where his eyes should be held an emotion that was pouring from every inch of his being. You felt like he was staring through you and straight into your soul. He stood beside the window with his bag slung over his shoulder. Who knew such strong emotion could be felt… seen, without ever laying eyes on the person emitting those feelings.
“Lock your window back.” He nodded toward you and promptly climbed out just as you heard the front door opening, he was gone before you even had a chance to get a second look as he ran off.
You did as he asked and locked the window before checking your appearance in the mirror, a mess was reflected back at you. You looked as if you’d been lost at sea. Tangled hair and ashen skin covered in streaked makeup. The churning in your stomach only rocked the proverbial boat more.
After a deep breath you brushed your hair and pulled the makeup wipes from your bag to clean up with.
“Hey!” You heard a sharp knock on the bedroom door and answered it while still wiping away at your face.
“What’s up?” You asked your sister as she pushed past you.
“Just checking on you before I went to bed, Lukey and I were out there for longer than we meant to be.” She shrugged on her way to jump on the bed, “Ow! Fuck.” She winced and picked up her bare foot, rubbing the sole with her thumb as she picked up the offending item.
“Who’s ring?” She asked, holding it up for you to see.
“Oh it’s just Anakin’s!” You lied, laughing anxiously and plucked it from her fingers, encasing it in your own hand. “Probably just fell out of my bag.”
“He has such a weird taste in jewelry. What even is that?” She pointed to your closed fist, and watched as you peeled back your fingers and exposed your palm.
It wasn’t a lie, it was Anakin’s.
“A centipede.” You swallowed, staring at the hunk of metal. “It- he always wears this one. I don’t… I’m not sure how it ended up in my bag.”
Your throat felt dry, your palms started to sweat. You felt like you might be sick. Why did he have Anakin’s ring? He hardly ever takes it off.
Diary Entry: September 3rd
I should have never taken those fucking rings off. I had to lie to you. It’s stupid I know but lying about something little like that is almost worse than the big secret you know? Cause I don’t want you to think I’m untrustworthy, I am. I’m very trustworthy.
You just let me shoot what you thought was a loaded gun in your mouth. I’d say that means you trust me quite a bit. Ghost, not me I mean. You trust Ghost with your life, but you can’t trust Anakin enough to tell him you love him?
Date
September 3rd (1:45 am)
Anakin jogged to the end of the driveway and hopped into the front seat of his car, taking off his mask and gloves. With the steering wheel in both hands he leaned forward to rest his forehead on the back of his hands. Keeping his grip at the top of the wheel with one hand he leaned back again, looking up at the roof of his car, his other hand going to pinch the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone started ringing, he quieted himself and quickly strategized a set of half truths and full lies that he might need to use before answering the phone.
“Hey princess.” He sounded cheery as he picked up the phone, “lucky you, I was just going out to smoke.”
“Oh?” You asked, feeling relieved to hear that he sounded fine. Maybe ghost didn’t chop off his finger after all. “Sorry, I- I have a weird question.”
“I love weird questions.” He snorted, you could hear him flip open his zippo lighter and snap it shut after a long inhale.
“Are you missing any rings?” You asked, hoping he said no and that this was just a very odd coincidence.
You heard rustling on the other end of the line while Anakin frantically searched his pockets, coming up one ring short.
“Yeah I am actually, why?” He answered clearing his throat nervously.
“Which one?”
“My many legged lad.” He answered, instinctively flicking his cigarette ash with anxiety, the miniature embers floating down to his jeans. He quickly swiped them away and tried to remain focused. “I took it off to shower at your place last night.”
“I figured the cat knocked it off the sink or something.” He shrugged to himself, hoping it was enough of a lie to convince you that maybe Ghost snatched it off the sink.
“S-somehow it ended up in um, my bag I guess.” You said, turning the jewelry over in your palm, placing it on the nightstand beside the bed.
“Huh, well that’s fucking weird.” He chuckled, “I don’t know, babe. Just keep it safe for me til you get back I guess sweetheart.”
“I will, I’ve got it on the nightstand right now.” You answered, licking your bottom lip.
“Thanks babydoll, listen, I gotta go back inside.” He grumbled, sucking air through his teeth the way he always did on his last drag of his cigarette. “I love you doll. Sleep good.”
“Night Ani, text me when you’re home.”
“You got it baby." Anakin answered, his voice low and smooth.
A perfectly normal conversation. A perfectly normal explanation on his part. A completely plausible assumption that Ghost simply took it from Anakin. Though you’d never known him to be brazen enough to come around with Anakin there and awake.
A perfectly dreadful whisper floated in one ear and out the other.
—————-
Date
September 3rd (2:27 am)
Anakin walked circles around his car, desperate to find an escape, an excuse, an explanation. Something, anything to help him backtrack. He couldn’t go back to your cabin tonight. He’d made you lock the windows and he knew Luke would quadruple check that the front door was locked. He didn’t know your sister or Luke’s sleep habits so he didn’t feel comfortable picking the lock.
He would have to tough it out until tomorrow night.
You were very much in the same boat as him. Waiting anxiously to see if he would come back, to see what would happen.
You wanted to call Anakin again, just to hear his voice, to listen to the calming comfort of it. To affirm that all was well, he was safe and fine. That was the only reason. You just wanted to make sure he was safe. Anakin was perfectly capable of handling himself, but to your knowledge he didn’t own any weapons that he could defend himself with. As far as you knew, Anakin Skywalker was sweet and kind and soft. He was loving and gentle. He was the perfect man, the most wonderful thing to walk into your life.
Anakin loves you and you love him. You love him so much, so much that it hurts. You love him so much that you’ve refused to say it. To protect him, to protect yourself, to protect Ghost from the hurt of it.
That’s just it though, there is Ghost. He’s there at every corner, he’s the creak in the floor boards at night, he’s the figure you see in the corner of your eye, he’s the creepy feeling of being watched, the voice you swear you hear saying your name.
He cares for you, and he cares deeply. You know without having to hear it from him that he believes you’ve hung the sun and the moon, he knows all the stars in the galaxy twinkle just for you and he believes you should be treated as such.
For all his wrong doings he’s done something right, not the helpful little things nor the occasional softness he’s begun to show.
No it’s something else.
It’s a feeling so oddly tangible that you can feel it in your throat each time you swallow. There isn’t a name for it, no term that you’ve ever heard could properly define it. You know that much to be true.
It’s a pull, a strong and undeniable tether. Like a child and their security blanket. Visible or not, where there is one there is always the other.
You’d miss him if he were gone, much like you’d miss the comfort of a fresh from the dryer blanket. The fuzzy warmth that wraps you up so tightly, the feeling of being tucked away from the world in safety.
That heat fades quickly, just like he does. He’s present one moment and the next he’s left you alone and you have to start the cycle all over again. You stare at your reflection and watch the world tumble around you and he watches you from behind the glass until he’s ready to come out again.
You want to fold him up and lay him across the end of your bed. Within reach at all times, you don’t want the dryer door between you anymore. You don’t want the few moments of heat from the fabric.
You want consistency.
Anakin can give you consistency in a way that no one else ever has. You never have to worry about him leaving or being disloyal, you never have to voice your feelings or opinions if you don’t want to because he just knows. You never have to worry about anything. Except for Ghost.
With Ghost you know that you are without a doubt the safest person alive. You don’t have to think, you can just be and know he is there to do anything and everything for you. You never have to worry about anything. Except for Anakin.
————-
Date
September 3rd
Hiking had never been your favorite summertime activity, but you’d come to realize it wasn’t because of all the walking or the bugs, it wasn’t even because of the horrid, atrocious memory of the time you’d walked through poison ivy.
You didn’t like it because it gave you too much time to think. That was exactly the opposite of what you needed right now. Right now you needed nothing, you needed the cold emptiness that comes along with burying yourself in something that took up all your brain power until there was none left to dwell on your troubles.
By the time you’d reached your destination you were drenched with sweat in the most uncomfortable way imaginable. Your shirt stuck to you, the cups of your bra were damp and itchy, your shorts had ridden up and you weren’t entirely sure that you were wearing shoes instead of walking barefoot in a bog.
“Luke.” You grumbled, taking a long drink from your water bottle. “How long have we been out here?”
“About two hours.” He replied casually, not nearly as winded as you and your sister. “Let’s eat and we’ll head back.”
“Are we lucky enough to be on one of those trails that the start is long but the loop around is short?” Your sister asked, wiping her forehead with the inside of the collar of her shirt.
“You’re both wimps,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes, passing out sandwiches and chips. “No, the way back is the way we came.”
“You’re joking.” You complained with a scrunched up expression.
“No ma’am.” Luke responded and thumbed over his shoulder at the overlook you’d made the journey to see. Yes it was beautiful, but worth the blister forming on the back of your ankle? Definitely not.
“Unless you’d like to take a dip off the cliff edge.” He snickered, knowing damn well that you’d rather gnaw off your fingers than jump from this height. “It’d be a couple minutes swim to shore and you’d be at the cabin.”
“No way really?” You said, standing up and biting into your sandwich as you walked cautiously closer to the edge. Gazing down you saw the dock, your eyes traveling up the tiny- hardly visible- dirt path until you reached the cabin.
He was right, you tracked your hiking trail up the curve of the incline you’d suffered through, it was a massive arc. Leaving you staring at the comfort of the cabin, so close but impossibly far away. You looked for a moment more, the lake sparkling like glitter in the bright sunshine. A few boats disrupting the water as they sped past, far off the shore.
You snapped a few pictures and scrolled through them, nearly choking on your food as you spotted something you’d missed with your naked eye. Only seeing it now that you were scrutinizing the photos quality to decide which one you’d keep.
“Jesus, you alright?” Lauren asked, watching you thump the side of your fist against your chest. Breathing heavily through your nose while chewing the food to swallow it and chase it down with a gulp of water.
“M’fine.” You coughed, looking back down at your phone and then to the landscape below to see if he was still there.
You should’ve expected to find him, expected the way he made himself at home on the porch, rocking in a rocking chair. The scene was still jarring, even more so when you realized he wasn’t wearing his hoodie.
His bare arms on display, his chest and abdomen covering by a loose black tank top. You frantically tried to zoom in with your camera. But of course all you could see was a fuzzy blur of inked skin.
What luck.
He was there, in broad daylight without a staple piece of his ensemble, one he didn’t remove in front of you. Now you understood why he told you he’d be recognizable if you were to see his skin. He was covered in tattoos.
And it’s your unfortunate luck that despite being so close to him, it’d take an hour to get there. Your great luck that he’d left himself vulnerable to your gaze at a distance that would prove impossible to decipher his identity. He was doing this purposely, there was no doubt about it. Why else would he do something so risky?
Ghost was baiting you.
Like the stupid little fish you were, you nibbled on the hook until he was able to reel you in.
‘I see you’ You texted him,
‘Creep.’ He texted back, standing up from his rocking chair and walking to the front porch steps. He waved dramatically, the sun shining down on him and catching on the white plastic of his mask, making him plainly visible. You watched through the zoomed in and grainy image of your phone as he moved, hoping maybe it would clear up and you could see something identifying.
Suddenly you were reminded of something you’d learned in school, a book you’d read… maybe Nancy Drew? Signaling using a mirror or something reflective to catch a person’s attention, sometimes used as a means of communication in Morse code. Though this wasn’t nearly as sophisticated.
He had pulled out both his knives and flipped them, the sunlight refracting off the shiny silver blades erratically until it became one concentrated beam as he crossed the sharp edges over each other. Forming an X to direct to light straight at your face, promptly blinding you.
“Fuck.” You winced, stumbling backwards and causing your sister to gasp.
“Christ, what the hell are you doing?” She asked worriedly, standing up and walking toward you but not daring to move as close to the cliffs edge as you were.
“A- a bug or something.” You lied, rubbing your eyes to clear up the imprinted flash of light you saw each time you let your eyelids fall shut.
*ping*
‘See me now?’
‘Asshole.’ You mumbled under breath, looking back over the cliffs edge to see that he’d managed to get out of sight in the time it took for you to recover.
“Alright, let’s go back. I’m hot and sweaty.” Luke said, standing up and stretching. He packed away our trash and then shoved Lauren forward when she complained.
“I’ll push you off the edge if you don’t shut up and leave me be.” He snorted, dodging her water bottle that she swung by the handle at him.
“C’mon let’s go before you kill each other.” You said with a laugh, feeling better now that Ghost was -probably- gone for now.
After another hour of hiking back down the steep incline you’d just traveled up, you were grateful to collapse on the cold wood floor of the living room and bask in the cool air supplied by the window unit nearby.
——————————————————————————
Diary Entry: September 3rd
I’m so jittery waiting around for you guys to get the hell out of that stupid cabin. I have shit to do and you’re gumming up the works. I need to get your bathing suits, I scouted out around the lake last night when I couldn’t sleep. Not in my Ghost mask, I used a bandana. I think it’d be real unfortunate to get the cops called because Ghostface is roaming the pine woods.
Anyway, your bathing suits. I’m taking the ones I disapprove of. Did you know there’s a cabin full of jockey college boys right across the lake from you? You better not have planned that. They have a perfect view of the dock you’ll be swimming off of. Which means they were probably watching you last night when you were having your drinks.
I’m the only one who can watch you like that. Especially when you’re gonna be prancing around with that fucking ass of yours on display. ‘Ani, I’m just gonna wear it to tan in!’ Yeah alright. That’s the only reason doll? That’s the reason you brought a thong bikini to the lake? With a cabin full of testosterone waiting to catch a whiff of you from across the way?
I can’t believe you’re so stupid sometimes. I love you but damn do you have no self awareness? I’d let you wear it when I’m around. But I’m not. Not the way I want to be at least. I want to be there fucking you with my eyes and smacking your cute ass every chance I get. If I’m not standing there watching over you then those idiots might get the idea you’re wearing that shit for them and not me.
They don’t know you’re tanning, making that bangin’ fucking body sun kissed for my viewing pleasure when you return. They just see ass and tits and drool. I might drool yeah… but it’s only for you. I love you. I have eyes only for you and I always will.
Those dick-wads don’t know you or care about you. They lust over every bitch they see. You don’t want to make it easier for them do you? No? That’s what I thought. I know you didn’t do it purposely little doe. You can’t help it. You’re used to me being by your side and keeping you safe, used to wearing whatever you want when I’m around because you know I’ll fuck shit up if someone looks at you wrong. You’ve gotten used to it and didn’t use your little girl brain to make adjustments for the fact that Anakin wouldn’t be there for you.
Just another reason you should’ve brought me along.
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
Oh my fucking god it’s so fucking hot outside. What the hell is wrong with Luke? Making you walk up that MOUNTAIN. I totally would’ve followed but I’m actually busy trying not to fucking drown in my own sweat. There’s a bunch of reasons Ghost is mostly nocturnal. This is one of them.
I was being baked alive.
Anywho, I showered and now I smell like you, so I’m gonna wander about, have a wee little snack. By the way, I’m really sad you forgot the mustard.
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
Baby, don’t be mad I didn’t mean to almost make you trip. I just thought it would be a little funny. I was right. But I’m still kind of sorry.
I wish I could’ve seen your face.
‘Oh my god! His shoulders are out!’ Scandalous.
Risky? Yes. Worth it. Yes, can’t wait to hear you whine about it when I fuck you again.
——————-
Date
September 3rd
“Okay, let’s get ready for the lake.” Luke stood up and clapped his hands together once, a loud *pop* resounding through the living room.
“Already on it.” You huffed, throwing yourself forward into a sitting position and hopping to your feet.
You entered your room and noticed two things immediately: 1) the ring is gone 2) your red one piece swimsuit is on the bed. Upon further investigation you discovered a note laying on top of it.
Written in quick scratch was a short note from Ghost.
‘Doe,
I’ve taken the liberty of making adjustments to your wardrobe.‘
‘Adjustments?’ You thought, grabbing your bag and dumping it out on the bed.
The only things missing were your other bathing suits and your shower stuff, quickly grabbing the red suit you rushed to the bathroom and locked yourself in to change. Pushing back the shower curtain you saw your body wash and shampoo, the walls still wet from his shower. You couldn’t help but let out an annoyed huff.
Your phone vibrated on the side of the small bathroom sink, sliding across the porcelain and falling into the sink basin. You quickly fixed the straps of your bathing suit and retrieved your phone before the leaky tap could wet the screen.
A video message awaited you from ghost, the image from the thumbnail made you laugh in a choked kind of surprise. He was outside giving you a leather thumbs up, your hot pink string bikini on overtop of his black hoodie. As you pressed play the video was mostly silent other than the nature noises of the background until he flipped the camera around and zoomed in.
A low modified whistle left his lips as his camera focused on the bathroom window, your bare back in the frame for a moment before he shifted the camera slightly to get the mirror in front of you, showcasing your breasts as you changed into your swimsuit.
You swiftly spun around going to the window to scan the area, he couldn’t have possibly gotten too far away. Throwing open the window you stuck your head out and looked to the left and then to the right where Ghost had suddenly appeared, inches from your face.
“Ow! Fuck, agh-“ You yelped, whacking your head on the window pane while he laughed at your expense.
“Hey! You okay?” Luke banged yelled from the other side of the bathroom door.
“Y-yeah!” You shouted back, turning to look inside the bathroom again before turning back around to see Ghost had crouched down, out of view if you were to open the bathroom door.
“What are you doing? You’re takin’ ages.”
“Uh- sorry. Wardrobe difficulties.” You squeaked out, glancing back at ghost who was still wearing your hot bikini bikini top, sans bottoms… which was honestly a bit disappointing. You heard Luke walk off, yelling to your sister that you were probably ‘on the throne’.
“Who is he? The Queen?” Ghost’s mechanical voice came from beneath the mask.
“Close enough.” You shrugged your shoulders and watched as he stood up to his full height, his knees cracking upon the ascent.
“Why did you take my shit Ghost? I wanted to wear that!” Whisper shouting at him while you hung the upper half of your body out the window.
“That’s why I took it.” He said plainly. “I don’t want you looking like a fucking slut out there without me around to keep other eyes off you.”
“Who the hell is gonna see me out here!? You shouldn’t have even seen me out here!” You pointed angrily.
“Shut up, I know you’re happy I’m here.” He snarled, getting right in your face, reaching up to grab your chin. “I heard you last night.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You scoffed as if you hadn’t done exactly what he was insinuating.
“I don’t want the girl who moans for me to be ogled at by some fucking frat guys.” He barked, shaking your chin and digging in his leather fingers.
You turned bright pink. You couldn’t argue with his statement. You did moan for him. Under him, over him, even without him.
“What frat guys?” You stuttered, avoiding acknowledgement to the first half of his sentence.
“Across the lake.” He pointed, flicking out his knife to gesture in their direction. “Big group of ‘em. Paid them a visit last night just to check things out, you know I worry about you.” He said in a quieter tone, bringing the blade of his knife to your bottom lip and tapping it with the flat side.
“I would’ve never known they were there if you hadn’t told me.” You narrowed your eyes, speaking carefully as the knife rested against your lip.
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Or maybe not.”
“What’s that supposed- shit, why?” You flinched and brought your hand to your mouth touching the nick he’d left when he quickly jerked the knife away.
“So you’ll think of me when you’re yapping to some no-count bitch boy from across the way.” He snapped back. His leathered thumb came up to spread the blood across your bottom lip and past it onto your tongue.
“It’s just a bonus that you bleed so fucking pretty.” He pushed your tongue down with his thumb, rubbing the crimson liquid into the squishy muscle, then curling the same thumb behind your bottom row of teeth and shifting his cock in his jeans with his free hand.
“Clean it for me baby?” His modified voice lower than usual.
“No, use your mouth doe.” He chuckled when you reached out to grab the knife from him to rinse in the sink.
“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows but opened your mouth anyway. He placed the blade on your tongue and nodded at you.
“Now suck it.” He grumbled, affectionately patting your cheek twice before using two fingers to push up your chin and close your mouth around the cool steel.
————————————————————————
“What happened?” You sister asked, touching the scabbed line that traveled up your ass cheek and disappeared beneath your swimsuit.
“Well, I just fell.” You muttered, pulling the hem line to cover more of it. “Don’t really know what cut me but it happened a little bit ago.”
“You need to be more careful.” She shook her head, finishing up her job of rubbing in your sun tan lotion. “I swear you’re worse than my toddler.”
“Oh shut up, I am not.” You scoffed, “there’s a difference between something you don’t have any control over and choosing to shove a pebble up your nose.”
“I- that was only one time! When will you let that go?” She asked grumpily. “What am I supposed to do, carry around a fucking periscope so I can see behind me?”
“I’m not- I was kidding.” You sighed, shoving her out in front of you, making her stumble.
You clicked the lotion shut and shook it up, slamming it down on the heel of your hand before putting a generous amount in your palm. You slapped it onto her back and rubbed it in, ignoring the hissing sound she made when the wet glob of sunscreen in your palm smacked her flesh and splattered messily across her skin.
“Caleb is just… an explorer.” Lauren said, trying to make it sound better than it was.
“I never shoved anything up my nose.” Luke chimed in from behind his sunglasses, sitting up against one of the dock posts. “Lauren, you know I was an ‘explorer’.”
“No. You were a bug boy.” You snorted, looking over at him with a little smirk.
“So what? I liked… like bugs. They’re cool okay?” He grumbled waving them off.
“Remember when you had Ants on a Log with actual ants?” You giggled, Lauren crouching down as she let out a guffaw.
“I was seven!” He said defensively, crossing his arms.
“Caleb is two. He can shove a pebble up his nose and it can be excused.” Lauren snorted, catching her breath. “You were seven, you knew better. You have no room to talk.”
“Okay mom,” Luke huffed, you knew without a doubt that he was rolling his eyes behind those glasses. “At least I don’t still pick my nose.”
“Hey! Sometimes you just gotta get up in there.” Lauren pointed at him, a scowl on her face. “Don’t lie, you pick your nose. Everybody does!”
“Uh… I mean I technically pick my nose. Just with a tissue.” You said, supporting your sister in your useless argument.
“So you’re both gross then.” Luke gagged and grabbed his stomach dramatically.
“If I’m gross, so are you.” You said, getting settled on your towel. “Lauren’s right. Everyone picks their nose.”
“You’re both horrible.” He grumbled, shaking his head before standing up and lowering himself into an inner-tube so that he could float on the water.
You all had a peaceful first half of your day, it was refreshing after the hike to relax in the sunshine, letting the heat lull you into a state of calm and the opportunity to think of nothing save for the concentration of singling out different nature noises just because you could. Cicadas, the occasional grunt of a bullfrog, Whippoorwills calling out to each other in the trees, the gentling lapping of the lake against the dock.
None of the city sounds that clouded your head and made it feel cluttered.
It was cleansing, a nice reset for your mental state. Exactly what you needed, exactly what you were so happy to be here for. Now if only you could get some clarity on the difficulty you’d return to after your weekend of being at ease.
Even in peace times nothing is perfect.
The gentleness of the world you’d drifted into was being infiltrated. The distant sounds of a boat zipping through the water at much higher speed that it should’ve, especially with the water skier attached to the towline. What could make it worse? Two jet skis flanked the boat at a good distance away, though it was clear they were all in one group. Shouting and laughing like drunken fools, which you were sure they were considering the way they were behaving.
You licked your bottom lip, reminded of the small nick Ghost had left you with. These must be the ‘no-count bitch boys’ he was referring to earlier. You had to admit, he was definitely right about that. Wrong about your willingness to speak with them though.
You huffed and stood up, deciding now would be a good time to take a refreshing break in the water. The liquid enveloped your skin, the heat of the sun having beat down on you had your flesh soaking up the warmth so much that the water felt cold. In involuntary shiver tickled your spine as you swam over to Luke where he’d floated a way from the dock.
Slowly but surely the boat along with its entourage weaved its way across the water to your side of the lake, you pushed Luke’s inner-tube back toward the dock to give -them- yourself some space.
“Thanks babe.” Luke said, dipping his hand into the water and flicking it at your face.
“Hey! I was trying to be nice!” You scowled, reflexively sliding your hands beneath the tube to dump Luke out of it.
“I could’ve drowned!” He gasped as he resurfaced, taking off his sunglasses so he could wipe the water from his face and shake out his hair.
“Oh whatever, don’t be whiny.” You grinned.
“Me? You’re telling me not to whine?” Luke tossed his glasses up onto the dock and made his way toward you quickly. “All I did was flick you with water and you tried to drown me!”
“I did not!” Squealing as he lifted you up and tossed you farther into the water. How such a scrawny little guy could do such a thing was beyond you, but you had no time to contemplate.
You only had time for revenge. Squinting beneath the murky waters you made your way to Luke, hearing him call out your name in garbled syllables.
Ever since you’d known Luke, he’s had an irrational fear of the tiny possibility that there may be an alligator in any body of water. Didn’t matter how far from the wetlands of the states you were. There was always a slim chance, to him at least.
Holiday Inn pool? ‘But it’s outside, it could’ve crawled in! Will you just check it?’
Tiny dollar-store-bought blow up pool in your backyard? ‘But the creek! The creek’s back there… I’m not going in till you do.’
It got to the point that it was so severe his dad had to come up with a ‘gator gauge’ which was really just a hand-held tennis ball launcher he’d spray painted green and put a ‘gator free’ sticker on the back of so he could prove it was safe. Top-notch, high security, military grade ‘gator gauge’ that doubled as the lazy way to play fetch with their dog.
It was mean. Maybe a bit cruel… but he deserved it. So you swam behind him and put the heels of your palms together, spreading your fingers and creating jaws. You’d disappear from sight for long enough that a hypothetical alligator could’ve dragged you off and you heard Luke call out for you again.
Your lungs started to burn and you knew it was time to enact your plan. Luke stood on his tiptoes in the water, the perfect opportunity to press your fingers and nails into the muscle of his flexed calf. He screamed and thrashed about, you let him go and backed up so you could resurface. You popped up and sucked in a deep breath that turned into a choked laughing fit.
“You little bitch!” He yelled, splashing as he swam at you, pushing you under the water by your shoulders. He quickly pulled you back up and shoved your shoulder. A pink tint to his cheeks from embarrassment, he huffed and splashed a wave of water at you.
“I could’ve drowned!” You mocked him, pretending to cough.
In your short time of distraction the boat and its occupants had cut the engine and let the momentum carry them closer. The jet skis now tethered to the back, the ladder down in the water. Despite the safer option a group of five guys jumped over the side and made themselves at home in your space.
“Hey! How are you ladies?” One of them asked, completely ignoring that Luke was right there with you.
“No soliciting, thanks.” Your sister popped her head up and shook her left hand to show off her wedding ring.
“Whoa, didn’t mean anything like that!” He laughed and his friends agreed. “Just wanted to say hello, see if you guys were up for a drink.”
“I think we’re just fine.” Luke spoke up from behind you.
“I wasn’t asking you.”
“Alright, let’s go.” Sighing you turned around and swam until you were able to touch the lake bottom, walking the rest of the way to the shore.
“Hope you’re going to get some mixers.” A different guy shouted.
“Going to get a restraining order if you don’t leave.” You shot back over your shoulder, earning a round of laughs from them, the opposite of what you’d hoped for.
“C’mon. Don’t be like that! Just give us a chance. We’re good people.”
“Good at ruining my day.” Luke mumbled, following behind me and scooping up his stuff and getting ready to leave.
“You’re going? Serious?” One of them laughed.
“You came over here uninvited, you’re not entitled to our company.” You said, turning around and walking toward the house.
“That may be true but you’ve certainly made up for it by jiggling that ass.” His friends snickered and one smacked his arm.
You reminded yourself that you were here to have fun. Not to argue with a man who has half the brain capacity of a drunk squirrel.
Deciding you couldn’t let them win, you figured you’d beat them in your own way. You continued on without another word, pretending you hadn’t heard them, instead pulling out your phone and sending a simple text message.
‘You were right.’
The answer was an immediate: ‘I know.’
Diary entry: September 3rd
I hate to say I told you so. But I will.
I. Told. You. So.
I was having a great time watching you, it was reminiscent of how I used to watch you have dinner and I’d eat with you. You’re so cute and playful… I love you so much. I know that Luke is super gay, that’s not why I’m jealous. I’m not worried about that. I’m not stupid and I’m not paranoid, I know better. I’m jealous because it should’ve been me that you were playing around with.
I’m jealous cause you didn’t invite me. I’m jealous that you got to swim and I’m sitting in a tree, soaking my shirt with sweat. I’m jealous that Luke had a beer. I’m jealous that your sister took a nap. I’m jealous that those shit-for-brains tried to talk to you. (I love your sisters fucking comeback though.)
I’m jealous that they got a better look at your sweet little ass than I did too.
I’m pleased that you were so off-put by their behavior that you texted me little doe. What a very good girl you can be, but, oh so good at being bad too. You’re just like me. Maybe I’m making it worse, maybe better. I don’t know, I don’t really care either.
I’m just excited.
My little doe is feeding that flame of deviancy hanging out deep within your stomach. I knew you had it in there somewhere, gods you’re just so fucking perfect. I’ve never felt more lucky. ‘Ghost, I’ve got one more day here. What if they come back?’
What if indeed.
Men can be unpredictable. A woman is safer in a pit of snakes that being alone with a man she doesn’t know. Which is why I try so desperately to protect you especially in situations like this. That delivery guy? He seemed harmless. But I dug a bit deeper and well, he wasn’t so harmless after all.
Now, these boys might be disgusting pigs who prefer to wallow in the squalor and bask in the glory of their custom made beer can wall. They don’t deserve anything too harsh. Also; Wow. It’s amazing how they’ve managed to drink that much and none of them have been hospitalized for alcohol poisoning. But back to business, I personally don’t feel like killing anyone. I know for a fact you don’t. I also know that even if I did feel like it, I couldn’t because you’d definitely know it was me. Then what the hell would I do?
You had no good ideas. Which is not your fault, you just can’t think about these things on your own. You need guidance and that’s what I’m here for. So, I settled on something you’ve never done, I haven’t done in a long time, and it’s not technically illegal here… just heavily frowned upon. I hate their shit attitudes, they’re gross and they’ve disrespected you and that’s unacceptable. So a nice little bit of property ‘destruction’ is in order. Middle school memories, how sweet.
TP the cabin? Absolutely. Destroy their beer can wall? Definitely. Silly string their vehicles? Duh.
Fuck you before and after? Yes. Always.
Part Fifteen
Tag-List:
@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwars @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero r @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @hopesworlld @lonaah @guiltycherries @syralix @doblasftcisco @demieyesore @hemmoxloser
Thanks to @rottencandyblood and all their love❤️
THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.
#anakin skywalker#star wars anakin#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin smut#anakin x reader#star wars#anakin x you#sw anakin#darth vader#darth vader smut#hayden#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen#anakin skywalker smut#anakin skywalker x reader smut#anakin imagine#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin fanfiction#anakin#anakin skywalker x you#stalker!anakin#ghostface#darth vader x you#james kelly
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The sound of a body throwing itself onto one of the infirmary cots echoed through the mostly empty room, followed closely behind with a dramatic, but melodic sigh. “Can I say something mean?”
“Probably not in front of the baby.”
Will groaned, looking up from his pile of patient reports he had been sorting for the past… year. “I hardly think eleven still counts as being a baby.”
Lee, who had been refilling first aid kits for the past two hours, contemplated this for a moment. “Maybe, but that’s besides the point. I’m six years older than you. You’ll always be a baby.”
“I’m going to say something mean. Will, cover your ears.”
“I’m not covering my ears, Taylor. Unlike you, I’m working right now and I need my hands.”
“Oh,” Taylor dragged, a taunt evident in her voice, "someone's grumpy.”
“He’s mad I put him on infirmary duty during arts and crafts.”
“Will, you aren’t good at arts and crafts.” Lee slapped her arm. “And you like working in the infirmary, you are constantly taking my shifts. It’s why I love you.”
Lee slapped her arm again. “Taylor, what the heck.”
Taylor groaned, “Fuck. Just say fuck. I’m begging you.”
“That’s besides the point. I had it with Cecil. We were going to finish our board game.” Will turned to Lee, pointing an accusing finger at him, “You knew this.”
Lee let out a long-suffering sigh and Will almost felt bad for causing a fuss, but really, Lee brought this upon himself. “Taylor, stop pawning off your shifts to Will. Will, stop letting Taylor’s pawn off her shifts to you. Also: I’m sorry about arts and crafts. The last few days have been hectic and I needed your help. I’ll make sure to not schedule you over arts and crafts next week.”
“I’m going to be home next week! Mama is picking me up, remember?”
Lee had the decency to look ashamed when he said, “Heck. I forgot. I’m sorry, Will.”
Taylor got up from her self-designated cot and walked over to Will, ruffling his hair once she was close enough. “I’ll take over the rest of your shift, buddy. You go have fun.”
Will shook his head, “No, it’s okay. I’m already here. Arts and crafts is half-way done anyway. We wouldn’t be able to finish.”
“If you’re sure,” Taylor sighed as she pressed a kiss to his forehead and Will let out a cry of protest because he could feel the lipstick stain there. He tried rubbing it away with his fingers but by the look on Lee’s face and the snickers Taylor was making behind him, he only made it worse.
Lee graciously handed Will a wipe before glaring at their sister. “Taylor, what are you even doing here?”
“I think I made that pretty obvious when I threw myself onto a bed and stated I was gonna say something mean. I came to gossip.”
“You should be at archery right now.”
“Mike was being a piss-baby. He wouldn’t let Josh and I try to hit one another. What’s the point of being in advanced archery if you can’t shoot at your brother? Moving targets!”
“So you left?”
“Yep. I found Silena and she offered to do my nails before I came by.”
Lee pinched the bridge of his nose in a way that resembled an old man at the end of his rope. Will suppressed a giggle at his brother’s anguish as Lee said, “You can’t do that.”
“Do what? My nails?”
“Leave Michael like that.”
“Why? He’s not in charge of me.”
“But I am. And he’s my second in command, so yes he is.”
Taylor groaned, flopping back onto her cot. “One, he’s like three weeks older than me, unfair. And two, none of that is important right now. What is important is that our father was here and didn’t say hi to any of us. Who does that?”
“Our father, apparently.”
Taylor flipped Lee off, showing off her new manicure. It was baby pink, like her lipstick, with a little sun in the center. “He gives those kids a ride, none of them his, and has the audacity to leave before saying hi? Hell, Will over here has never met him. He has time to bring a group of kids to camp, but can’t spare a lousy minute to check in on us? And I can’t say this to Michael or he’ll claim I’m “on the other side”.” Taylor sighed, a faraway look in her eyes. Will had only seen this look on her face a few times before: every time Luke was mentioned. “I’m just tired of feeling abandoned and I’m sick of feeling like it’s bad to think that.”
Lee stepped towards her, a soft, “Tay–” passing through his lips, before she sat up and shook herself out of her stupor.
“Instead of saying hi, he just causes chaos and disappears! He brings Percy back, which is never a good sign. Thalia is driving the sun chariot, and crashes it! Oh, and he brought that new weird kid that keeps bombarding everyone with questions.”
Will saw through the change of topic, and Lee clearly had to as well, but he allowed it to happen. He slapped her on the arm for the third time, “He’s not weird. He’s, like, eight. The kid is just excited. You were excited about camp once upon a time.”
Taylor turned to Will, jerking her head at Lee, “I think he’s finally lost it. When have I ever been excited by anything ever?”
Will grinned, “Yesterday, you beat Madi at Josh’s song quiz and you danced around the cabin for ten minutes.”
Taylor gasped loud and dramatic, clutching at her chest as she fell back onto her cot, chestnut hair falling all over her face in her fall. “William! How dare you accuse me of such things!”
#will solace#lee fletcher#solangelo#wip wednesday#solangelo fic#solangelo fanfiction#pjo#pjo fandom#mine.doc#i swear nico is in this just... later#for now its just cabin seven sibling antics#this is a wip wednesday so please ignore any mistakes#i want to have this fic posted saturday but i'm historically not great at self-inflected deadlines#my “birthday” fic was posted five days after my birthday soooo#my goal is to post this at the airport before i get on a plane but we shall see#this fic is an interpretation of nico and will meeting. like. the meeting mentioned in tsats but its also a will coming out to his mom fic#but like. not all that serious. in fact its very silly#if you read my fic 'a little house on the edge of town' it mentions will coming out and this is the story that alludes to#look at me just yapping in tumblr tags#rip taylor you would have loved kayla#thats a joke taylor knew kayla before she 💀
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BUTTerfly Tattoo —M.L
》in which you get a butterfly tattoo on your ass as a surprise for Mark since he loves your butt so much.
Warning: definitely suggestive,humorous (at least I tried), alot of dialog, alot of talk abt your ass (body worship ig????), mentions of being high, choking, fingering, and pain?? (I mean mark slaps your ass A L O T)
A/N: LISTENNN so I had found that picture on pinterest just cruising around and I was listening to music then mark just popped into my head so I HAD to make something up about it with that picture reference shown above.
───────ꕥ
"You think he's gonna like it?" You asked your closest friend, Haechan who you could depend on for any opinion.
"Fuck yeah, Mark Lee is a perv...and so am I because I'm pitching a tent just looking at it." Haechan said.
You pulled your jeans up, "Okay gross, anyways I'm a little nervous because it's not like a small little cute one it takes up half my ass."
" He's gonna love it! It's pretty colors too, and it goes nice with your skin complexion. Your ass is fucking beautiful y/n, you'll be fine!" Haechan waves you off trotting in your kitchen to get another snack.
"Lemme facetime Jaehyun, he's like a pro Ass man." You said.
A few rings and your met with Jaehyun face shoving some food in his mouth, "Wassup Twin."
"Hiii Twin, okay jae I need your opinion on something. And it has something to do with my ass" You say. Jaehyun gave you a suspicious look raising one eyebrow pausing to eat his food.
"I'm all ears??" He suspiciously said.
"Okay are you with anyone?" You questioned him.
"Yeah I'm with jungwoo, are you with mark?" Jaehyun answered.
"No, Haechan."
"Are you trying to get me caught up in a affair scandal?" Jaehyun nonchalantly said.
"No! Just listen! so, I got two butterflies tattooed on my ass and I wanna know what you think and if mark will like it." You explained quickly.
"Show."
Simply with that command, you showed the small portion of your ass to Jaehyun.
"Oh shit, that's fire you should definitely get it." Jaehyun says.
"Yeah I did, right here." You said with an obvious tone.
"WAIT THAT'S REAL?!" Jaehyun widen his eyes getting closer to the camera.
"Yep!"
"I said I got it tattooed."
You giggled at the slight glitch in his voice from the bad internet wherever he's at.
"Sorry, I'm high right now- but that looks dope, it fits your booty so nice I don't know how to explain it." Jaehyun complimented.
"Can I see?" Jungwoo chimes in.
Jaehyun asked you again if he could see, you nodded and Jungwoo took a look.
"DAMN! That's really nice."
Jaehyun agreed with Jungwoo, "Mark might have a heart attack seeing it, he's gonna love the fact that you have butterflies on your ass. He's a perv."
"I SAID THE SAME!" Haechan also chimed in putting his hands in the air.
"I don't know if I'm liking yall calling my man a pervert even though it's true but that's besides the point." You chuckled.
"Listen as an ass man, I would love for my chick to have a sick ass tattoo on her butt so like when I fuck her from behind I can see not only her beautiful ass but also beautiful art." Jaehyun elaborated.
"I swear you guys never know when something is TMI" you said.
"I'm just saying"
Jaehyun sipped on his drink, and with that you said your farewells to him and jungwoo before ending the call.
"So now do you believe me?" Haechan raised his eyebrows with folded arms.
"I guess so."
"Now can we go to the mall like you promised? I'm starving." Haechan rubbed his belly.
You nodded grabbing your keys, Haechan jumped off the couch following you like a excited puppy.
────────
You came back to your house with haechan following suite with all your bags in his hand, he struggled getting inside the house.
"Uh.. a little help?!" Haechan cried out, you opened the door up more letting him inside.
You saw Mark and Johnny standing in the kitchen looking at Haechan struggle with the heavy bags in his hands.
You placed your small purse on the counter, also watching the poor boy struggle.
"Here let me help you." Johnny suggested, he picked up 2 bags placing them on the counter as well.
Haechan could finally lift them up on the kitchen island.
" Hi love, You must've had fun today." Mark scanned you up and down admiring you before pulling you in for a kiss, resting his hand on your hip.
"I did, I very much did. You know how it goes, Haechan kinda lost in a game of rock paper scissors." You said, Mark replying with a soft 'ahh'.
"Never EVER have me keep your girl company while you are gone, NEVER EVER." Haechan huffed and puffed aggressively trying to catch his breath.
"They weren't even that-"
"Don't." Haechan put a finger infront of Johnny's face.
"You got alot of stuff baby." Mark rubs the dip in your back.
" It's not even that much, plushies, some clothes, lingerie, other accessories, hair products some are mine some are yours." You said.
You knew that smirk anywhere, Mark knew what time it was once you named Lingerie.
"Don't you have like alot of lingerie already?" Mark questioned.
"Not when you keep ripping them up." You say grabbing the hair products out the bags.
Mark only shyly laughed before slapping your butt, the pain from the tattoo and the slap only reminded you what you had to do today.
"Ahem! We are still present!" Johnny excused.
At this point all of you and Mark's friends knew about the tattoo except Mark.
"Now that I've caught my breath, I want to leave." Haechan announced.
Johnny was ready to go as well, "Oh I didn't bring my car here because I thought it would be a good idea to walk and burn some calories, so you're driving me home."
He explained to haechan as he grabbed his phone from the counter.
"I guess I'm just everyone's slave around here." Haechan said.
"Guess you are." Mark gave him a sheepish look tilting his head.
Haechan gave him the middle finger before exiting the house, "Night lil bro" Johnny closed their front door.
After a little silence, Mark's attention suddenly shifted towards you, beginning to feel nervous you poured yourself a glass of wine.
"So about these lingerie, you gonna try them on for me?" Mark questioned peeking through the bags.
"I mean, if it makes you happy." You smirked drinking your wine.
Mark looked at you trying to read your expression, he felt as if you're hiding something from him with that slightly mischievous grin on your face.
"What's wrong baby? Is there something on your mind?" Mark gripped your waist kissing down your neck.
"I have a surprise for you." You said.
"Hmm? A surprise?" Mark continued to place kisses on your neck and collar bone.
"Yeah take a guess, even though I know you Won't ever get it." You say with full confidence.
"You got new toys?"
"Nope"
"You have a costume in there?"
"Nah"
"You got nipple piercings?"
"No, but not a bad idea.."
"Oh my god..." Mark finally let's go of your neck, looking down at your stomach.
"Oh my god you're PREGNANT?!" Mark nearly squealed in excitement.
"What? No!" You said.
"Oh..." Mark pouted rubbing the back of his neck.
"Good to know if I was you'd be excited, anyways I'm gonna reveal it to you. Follow me" You said.
You led mark to the bedroom, Mark slapped your butt again.
"Mark stop it's a little sore."
"Still? It's been 2 weeks since then, I couldn't possibly have smacked it that hard"
"You're more heavy handed than you think you are." You simply replied, you lead him inside the bedroom.
He started lurking around to see if the present was perhaps in here, you ordered him to sit down and he did so at once.
"Did you get a whip?" Mark guessed for the several time.
"No, I'll be right back."
You went into the bathroom with a new pair of lingerie, you slipped the set on. It was a pastel blue color with lacey material.
"It's totally a costume, babe you literally could've said I was right the first time."
You walked out the bathroom then you hid yourself behind the bedroom door frame, " are you ready?"
Mark replied with a simple yes and you stepped out with a exaggerated pose, Mark definitely was excited but not all that surprised considering you've worn many lingerie around him.
"Oh shit babe, you look so sexy" Mark said, he walked up to you snaking his hand on your waist squeezing the love handles.
"This isn't really the surprise though," You reminded you kissed his lips gingerly, "I'll give you a hint it's on my body."
"You got a clit piercing?" Mark questioned.
"No! What is with you and piercings? Is it like a kink?" You asked.
"I don't know it sounds like something impulsive you would do." Mark shrugged, you only smirked.
Mark grabbed your ass again, he maneuvers his way behind you and then you grinned even wider. His idea was to start teasing you but his eyes were glued to your ass once he saw it.
Your tattoo.
"Dude..." Mark paused his entire world stopped to look at it, "an ass tattoo.."
You looked at him over your shoulder biting down on your lip with a grin, "Do you like—"
"AN ASS TATTOO?! SHIT THIS IS GORGEOUS!" Mark exclaimed, he kneaded your butt in his hands just staring at the art.
The smile on his face was like a kid in the toy store, this may have made him fall even more in love with you.
"I got it a day ago, I had asked everyone if you think you'll like it. I was nervous about it, I already liked it." You explained.
"You like it, I fucking love it!! This is actually so hot of you," Mark paused for a minute, "wait..does that mean haechan saw your ass?"
"Uh yeah? Jaehyun saw, johnny, jungwoo, Yuta, Jaemin, and Jeno y'know all the ass guys." You clarified.
"Get on the bed." You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, you surely hoped that you didn't just make him jealous.
"Please I- I need to see it clearer, get on the bed, lay on your belly." Mark pleaded, you found his frantic state adorable as you silently obeyed.
Crawling onto the bed, laying flat on your stomach as Mark instructed, he sat on the bed sitting next to you. He started to grope your butt for the umpteenth time, he gave it a few smacks. Mark seeing the recoil everytime he hit it only made him hypnotized.
"Fuck princess, your ass is just so beautiful even more with this gorgeous tattoo. This was one of your best decisions ever." Mark gushed.
"I'm glad you like it Markie." You smiled at him watching his every move.
"Yo, I might just be obsessed."
─────
You were draped over his lap whimpering for him, your ass was beyond sore and you were soaked.
Mark gave you no mercy, smacking your ass repeatedly and teasing your folds. He held your head up with his hand around your neck, he entered two fingers inside you slowly he fucked you painfully slow.
"You're so wet from me abusing your ass, you like when I slap it like this?" Mark's hand collides with your booty again even harder than the last 20-ish slaps, he soothed the pain with generous rubs and grips.
He had let go of your neck and started to focus on your pussy, he had a cheek in one hand and had two fingers pleasuring you with the other.
You're afraid he's not going to keep his hands off of you for awhile because of this tattoo.
─────────────ꕥ
#nct#nct 127#nct scenarios#nct imagines#nct drabbles#mark lee#nct dream#nct smut#mark lee golden hour#mark lee smut#mark lee imagines#mark lee drabbles
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Chapter two: First of all, who the fuck are you?!
Foreword: this chapter is a bit weird, i didnt really know how to write the post-death scene lmao
Next chapter: here
···
(This is where you are, except it's night so instead of the clouds there are stars)
:D
anyways, Back to the story:
It felt like you were air, so light.
when you finally came to your senses you still had a sense of weightlessness but it had gotten better allowing you to look at your surroundings.
which probably wasn't the best idea.
"Where the fuck"
you paused, looking down at yourself, seeing no signs of wounds you continued your monologue.
"you know what, this reminds me of a saying my uncle used to say"
you thought out loud, while you continued to survey your surroundings.
"Life's a bitch, you marry one, and then you die." (a/n: true story)
you were in a room (?), maybe... it was almost as though you were in space. surrounding you were stars, they were so close yet so far. You felt as though you could reach out and touch them but at the same time you knew you couldn't.
not going to lie, that kinda pissed you off, you didn't even know why.
"All my life, I have been so FUCKING MAD, and now here I am, dead. I shoulda slapped that lady, she probably deserved it."
you continued to go off for the next god-knows-how-long, before a tall man, tapped you on the shoulder, startling you. causing you-in your sudden shock-to throw him to the floor. (you grabbed him by the hand and threw him over your shoulder...)
(here's what he looks like btw: (also I dont know the artist, I just saw him on pinterest and thought :' he'd work')
you look at the man, "ya know, you shouldn't sneak up on a lady like that."
' 10 years of martial arts finally paid off'
the white haired male could only groan in response.
"jesus fucking christ woman. how the fuck-"
"hey man you startled me" you quickly cut him off before he acted like it was your fault, as you put your hand down to help him up.
he took it, while giving you a skeptical look.
you sighed, "listen, I've had a bad day okay, I'm sorry for throwing you to the floor."
the male looked genuinely shocked.
"You know what, you're one of the good ones." he paused, not allowing you anytime to question him, before continuing "you like genshin, right?" you nodded, 'what does genshin have to do wit- "okay! how would you feel about going into the world of genshin impact?" the white haired male asked.
"hu- HUH?"
he looked at you with confusion, "I SAID, HO-"
"no, no I heard you, I'm just confused"
a look of irritation crossed the males features, "I am sebastian, I am someone who takes care of people who have passed on. essentially you have died, and I can give you choices of where to go."
"you've had to explain that to a lot of people haven't you?" you asked.
"yep, now answer my question: do you want to live there or not?" Sebastian asked, clearly wanting to get this over with.
A/n:
???? What did we say?!?!
#x reader#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin inazuma#ayato kamisato#kamisato ayato#ayato x reader#ayato kamisato imagines#kamisato ayaka#thoma#wren versus the world
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The Art of Crossed Wires - 8 - The Third Time
Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader
Rating: Teen.
Warnings: Swearing
Chapter: 8/9
Word count: 2769
Summary: After your date with Agent Monroe, you need to fix things once more with Marcus. This leads to a heart-to-heart and, finally, some clarity.
Note: This has not been beta read, so apologies for any mistakes.
Almost the last chapter.
Part Seven | Part One | Series Masterpost
After the disastrous date with Garrett Monroe, you decided it would be a good idea to spend the weekend with friends, specifically Mary. One quick phone call on Saturday morning, and she arrived at your apartment within the hour. She’d brought snacks as well as a couple of bottles of wine, just in case, apparently.
Then you told her everything. About how her pranks had put you so on edge that you’d slapped Marcus. About the book and the lunch that came after. About how you’d thought it was a date and made a fool of yourself the following Saturday at the gallery. And finally, about the date with Garrett and how he’d tricked you when you were at your lowest.
“Wow.” Mary sat for a moment, her eyes wide, her chocolate bar paused halfway to her lips. “That’s a lot to unpack and, just… wow.”
“Yeah.” You slumped back on your sofa, stuffing a mini cheese wheel into your mouth.
“Right.” She sat forward, finishing off her chocolate in one mouthful. “Firstly, I am so fucking sorry about the pranks. I went way too far and haven’t really properly apologised for that. So I’m doing it now. I am very sorry. Now, let's take this step by step and fix this…”
“Mess?”
“I wasn’t going to say mess, but yeah, honey, it’s a clusterfuck right now.” Mary dove into her purse and retrieved a pad and pen. “Right, first was the slap, but you fixed that yourself with an excellent gift. But then…”
“Then I went to lunch with him and read too much into it.” You covered your face with your face dramatically.
“Yes, but again this is fixable.” She patted your knee and continued to write. “Honey, this is an easyish fix. You need to talk to him.”
“I tried that.” Your reply was muffled by your hands.
“No. You explained your point of view, but then neither of you properly talk about it afterwards.” Mary reached over, pulling one of your hands down so she could look at you. “Yeah, it’s awkward. But you need to talk to him about how you were mistaken and didn’t mean to make it…”
“Weird.”
“Uncomfortable. Just be honest. He’ll understand.” Mary smiled at you, and you felt your other hand drop. “Also, you need to tell him what Agent Monroe said about him. Cos, that’s really manipulative bullshit.”
“Urgh, Monroe.” You grabbed a bag of chips, pulled it open and stuffed a handful in your mouth. “‘e’s gonna b’ fuffin’ weir’ wi’ me too.”
“You leave Agent Asshole to me.” Mary looked at you sternly. “I’ll keep an ear out and head off any gossip. I’ll also give some of the other ladies a quiet heads up about his ways.”
“Thank you.” You looked over at your friend.
“I helped make this mess, and besides, I love you.” She shrugged. “Anyway, we have a plan now, so let's forget about stupid men for the rest of the weekend.”
“Agreed.” You grinned as Mary held her arms open for you.
“Let's cuddle up and watch something dumb.” Mary chuckled as you crawled into her waiting arms.
~~~~~
After spending the weekend with Mary, you felt tons better. Not only had you mended your friendship, but you also had a plan in place. Talk to Marcus. It sounded so simple, but as the hours ticked by on Monday morning, you still had no idea what you were going to say. Sitting at your desk, you tried to focus on your work. However, after reading the same paragraph five times, you knew something needed to be done. This was interfering with work now. You needed to go talk to him as soon as possible before you lost your nerve.
Quietly getting up from your desk, you scanned the office for Marcus, finally spotting him at the edge of the bullpen on his way to his office. Walking briskly across the space, you were thankful that most of your colleagues were focused on their tasks as you passed by them.
You managed to catch up to Marcus by the elevators between the bullpen's large open-plan workspace and the agents' private offices. He stopped as he heard your footsteps, turning with a smile only for it to drop as he saw it was you.
“Hey.” You took a deep breath and smiled. “Do you have a minute?”
Marcus nodded, pulling the files he was holding closer to his chest. “Sure.”
“I wanted to talk to you about the other Saturday at the gallery and what happened. I just-”
“How was your date with Monroe?” Marcus cut you off, his handsome features becoming sharper and his tone more abrupt. You heard your jaw click shut as you stared at him.
“I… it was… what makes you think it was a date?”
Marcus frowned as his eyes darted away from you for a second. His whole body seemed tense as he licked his lips in thought. “Because I’ve had to listen to him talking about it to other agents all morning. I get the impression it didn’t go well, seeing as he’s not saying very kind things about you.”
“What?” A shiver ran down your spine as you remembered just how badly the date had ended and imagined what kind of things Garrett could be saying.
“Yeah.” Marcus swallowed hard. “He took great joy in telling me and a couple of the other agents that you were…” He closed his eyes as if contemplating whether or not to tell you.
“What has he said about me?” You groaned, wanting to get this over with. “Just tell me.”
“That you’re an uptight bitch who wants to bag an agent because you think it’s the way to get a promotion out of the bullpen.” Marcus sighed, rolling his eyes. “But that you won’t put out to seal the deal. His words, not mine.”
“Did he now?” You folded your arms across your chest and scowled. You knew Garrett Monroe was a pig, but this was low even for him. “And you believe him?”
There was a long pause as Marcus bit his lip and looked everywhere except at you. “No.” He said quietly. “I just, I didn’t expect him to be your type.”
“He’s not. I was just… I don’t know… confused about where we stood.” You unfolded your arms as you shook your head. “After we spoke that Saturday, you were really weird with me because of what I said. And then Monroe told me you weren’t into women, so-”
“Wait! He said what?” Marcus held a hand up to stop you midsentence, staring at you incredulously.
“I think he said so I’d go on a date with him, but at the time, I dunno, it sort of made a little sense.” You shrugged, watching as Marcus’ face relaxed slightly from the tense frown. “I’d made you feel awkward, and I figured it was because you were…you know, gay.”
“Gay? You thought I was gay?” Marcus blinked like you’d just told him you had two heads.
“I-”
“I was flirting with you, and you-” Marcus stopped as two coworkers approached. Quietly watching them as they passed, he frowned. “This isn’t the place to talk about this.”
You thought for a moment as your colleagues left earshot. “Coffee shop?”
“No.” Marcus shook his head. “Look, Monroe has been a grade-A jackass, but he did make me realise we need to fix… this.” He motioned to the two of you. “Would you feel comfortable coming to my place tonight?”
“Your house?” You were taken aback, unable to hide the surprise from your voice.
“Apartment, yeah.” Marcus ran a hand through his hair, still watching to make sure no one was listening. “If that’s too-”
“No, it’s fine.”
“Ok.” Marcus let out another sigh. “I have to get back to work. I’ll email you my address. See you at seven?”
“Seven.” You nodded, watching as Marcus returned the nod and headed towards his office. With your shoulders feeling a little lighter but your head still buzzing, you made your way back to your desk.
~~~~~
Marcus’ apartment building was a tall modern building. The exterior was made up of red brick and glass, and it dwarfed some of the older buildings on the street. To the left of the large double glass doors was the intercom panel. After double-checking your email on your phone, you found Marcus’ apartment number and pushed the smooth silver button.
A few minutes and an elevator ride later, Marcus greeted you at his apartment door. He must have showered as soon as he got home, his hair still slightly damp with little droplets falling onto the shoulders of his t-shirt as he showed you into his modest apartment. You watched as he fussed, tidying cushions and books before motioning for you to take a seat on the sofa.
“Have you eaten?” He perched on the arm of a nearby chair, tugging on his t-shirt nervously.
“No, I barely had the chance to change before heading over here.” You gestured to your more casual clothes: a graphic tee and well-worn jeans.
“Me too.” Marcus nodded, smiling slightly before standing and pulling his phone out of his own jeans. “Take-out?”
“Sure.” You still left nervous despite the attempts of both of you to make this feel relaxed. “I’m happy with whatever you like. Just nothing too spicy.”
“Got it.” Marcus thought for a moment before swiping on his phone. “Pizza?”
“Sure.” You repeated and waited while he placed the order, taking in his home.
The outside of the building was very modern; something echoed inside and further demonstrated by the clean, crisp lines in the apartment. However, even if you hadn’t known this was Marcus’ apartment, everything about the decor screamed it to you in full volume.
Soft, plush armchairs and a big comfy sofa dominated the living space adding much-needed bursts of vibrant colour to the stark white of the walls. Portraits hung alongside landscapes and abstract pieces. Beautiful photographs sat next to sketches. Looking over at the walls, you felt a smile creep onto your face as you realised almost every inch of them was covered in art.
Two massive bookcases overflowed with books, graphic novels and what looked like a couple of TTRPG rulebooks. Then in front of them on the shelves, each probably deliberately positioned, were tens of tiny sculptures. You had been tempted to call them knickknacks, but that somehow felt like diminishing their beauty. Small wire models shared shelves with Funko figures. A grey speckles picture frame with green tentacles bursting out of it sat next to a bronze handbell shaped like a southern lady, the hoop skirt flaring out to form the main bell casting.
“Shouldn’t be too long.” Marcus snapped you out of your observations, tucking his phone back into his pocket. Following your eye line, he smiled at the bell. “My grandmother’s. She collected them. I remember she had a sideboard in her house covered in them. When she passed me, my brother, my sister and all the cousins got to choose one to keep. I chose the southern belle.”
“That’s a lovely way to remember her.”
“Yeah.” He moved from the arm of the chair to sitting properly in it. “Funny thing was there were no arguments either. We all had different favourites, so everyone got the bell they wanted.” Marcus paused for a moment, still looking at the bell, before taking a deep breath and turning back to you. “So… let's get awkward.”
“Ah.” You nodded, taking a deep breath of your own. “Yeah, no point putting this off.”
“I’ll start.” Marcus frowned for a moment. “I owe you an apology.”
“Me?” You could hardly believe your ears. “I’m the one who made it weird.”
“No, you weren’t. Well, yeah, a little. But I did too.” He paused as he chose his next words, his eyes locked onto your face. “You think you made it weird by thinking of our lunch as a date and then saying so. But the truth is you saying that to me caught me off guard because I’d also been thinking of it like that.”
Marcus stopped and seemed to be collecting himself while his words sunk in. It had been a date. And more than that, you hadn’t imagined him feeling the same way.
“I need to tell you about something that happened to me just before I moved to D.C.”, Marcus spoke again after a few moments. His voice seemed quieter, softer almost, and the more he spoke, the more fragile he sounded. “Just before I got my promotion to the task force, I was seeing someone. A fellow agent. I was… I fell for her. Hard. Even asked her to move here with me.”
“But she said no?”
“Actually, she said yes. I called in favours to get her assigned here too and eventually asked her to marry me.” Marcus swallowed, and you could see him fighting tears. “Again, she said yes, and I thought everything was perfect. I was so in love. But as you’ve probably guessed, it didn’t end well. She left me and…”
Marcus stopped to collect himself. You shifted along the sofa towards him until you were sat at the other end and could reach his hand. Slowly you reached out for him, and to your relief, he took your hand, giving it a squeeze.
“She broke my heart.” He said finally. “I went over and over what I did wrong. Eventually, I think I figured it out. I went too fast, rushed it. Story of my life.” Marcus let out a mirthless laugh. “Anyway, I made a promise to myself to take it slow. And I’ve tried. But then I met you.”
“I’m sorry about what happened.” You weren’t sure what to say. You could certainly relate, not ever really having had much luck in love yourself.
“I loved our lunch together and couldn’t wait to see you again. I thought about you all day Friday. Wondering what you were doing. Imagining what it would be like to…” Marcus trailed off for a moment, squeezing your hand again. “But I was also scared because I could already feel myself falling for you. Moving too fast again. But I got around that by telling myself it was just one-sided.”
“But then when I confessed the same thing…”
“Yeah.” Marcus dropped his head down, looking at you through his eyelashes. “I froze because, well… that made it real, and that scared me. And by freezing, it sent you the wrong message, which is why I’m the one who needs to apologise.”
You couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a soft laugh. “We’re quite the pair. We’ve both been overthinking this way too much.”
“Yeah.” Marcus chucked. “I should have said something but chickened out every time I saw you. But then-”
“Monroe.” You scowled. “That asshole.”
“Yeah.” Marcus frowned. “He told me he had a hot date but didn’t say who. Kept dropping hints, which I obviously didn’t pick up on. So when I saw you with him that night, it felt like my heart had been stomped on-”
“Marcus, that’s not why I-”
“I know.” Marcus reached over and took both of your hands in his. You had to marvel at just how large and gentle his hands were. “It felt like that cos I knew I’d screwed up and missed my chance. Well, I thought I had.”
“I, um…” You ran your thumb over the back of one of his hands, looking up into his smiling face. “Can I ask? Who were you with that night?”
You watched as he gave a soft chuckle. “My older sister Amelia. I called her to ask for advice. Told her I was doing it again.” He laughed harder. “She came to visit last weekend to deal with her idiot brother, well, one of them anyway.”
You could pretend you weren’t relieved, and Marcus must have noticed your shoulders relax, although thankfully, he didn’t say anything. Instead, the two of you sat for a moment, smiling at each other, basking in the glow that comes from knowing the other person returns your feelings.
“Start over again?” You said finally with a small giggle. This was becoming almost ridiculous.
“Third time’s the charm, right?” Marcus gave you a lopsided smile, his warm brown eyes twinkling.
“So, to be clear.” You needed to hear him say it. “This will be a date?”
Marcus leaned forward, pulling your hands towards him and stared directly into your eyes. “Definitely a date.”
~~
Taglist: @jxvipike, @miraclesabound, @littlemisspascal, @galaxyofmando, @pintsizemama, @athalien, @zanzann, @furiousmushroom, @ghostofaboy, @thebestrouge, @janebby
#marcus pike#marcus pike x reader#marcus pike x f!reader#the mentalist#the art of crossed wires#fanfic#fanfiction#my writing
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I WANNA REQUEST MORE IF UR WILLING! Could you do like, prom Mary Goore x gender neutral reader?
Prom Mary Goore? Fuck yes.
Mary Goore x gn!reader
Sorry this took so long, I wrote most of it during the hurricane and then forgot to finish it until this morning. Also, as most of my mary fics go, yall aren't exactly together-together? More of implied and not confirmed. Anyways, hope you enjoy!
Desc: mary/reader are seniors in HS, both 18/19.
You and Mary were total opposites. You showed up to class, did the minimum work to get an alright grade--you liked school dances, as stupid as it was.
But Mary? No, Mary was at school perhaps once a week if he could get away with it. Eventually, he couldn't get away, and he got expelled. So, there goes your lunch buddy. Hello, bathroom sandwich.
You hadn't exactly been dating at the time. But April came around, and it was prom season. It was all over Instagram, prom-posals and dress shopping on stories. Adds popped up relentlessly on David's Bridal and Windsor. It was a brutal season for you cause, A) you had no one to go with, and B) the only one you wanted to go with had zero interest in school dances. Mary Goore.
One day he'd picked you up after school and you did homework at his house, every two minutes you'd sigh dramatically and wait for him to ask "shut the fuck up or tell me what's wrong."
And that he did!
"Dude, if you don't-"
"I'm sad!" He scans your face for sarcasm, but none is found, just pouty lips and puppy dog eyes.
"...Should I even ask why?" He retorts, slouching back in his recliner. The thing was old, and there were too many springs and things popping out of it. It wasnt a suprise when you found out he'd stolen it from the side of the road in the middle of a thunderstorm.
"Yes. You should. And then you can help me on not being sad." You say matter-of-factly, biting the clicker on your pen. You eye him, waiting.
"Okay. Fine. Why are you sad?" You pounce quickly, forgetting your homework as you sit down on the armrest of his seat.
"Have you ever heard of this little thing.. it's very lowkey, kind of underground..."
"I am not going to a school dance with you." He glares up at you, but your pouty face makes his expression soften.
"Pleaaasseeeeeeee..." You wrap your arms around his head, pulling him into your chest. "I want to experience it. I only get one prom, and everyone says it's awesome--so, obviously it's gonna be a shit show." Mary grimaces at your words. "And you know how much I love to invite you to shit shows." You grin.
"Oh yeah, like your AP art show--OW-" He winces as you slap his arm, hard.
"Fuck off with that. This is all I ask. I'll never ask for anything ever again. Ever!"
"Doll, we both know that's a big fat fuckin lie." He rolls his eyes, but brings his arms up to half-ass hug you. "But fine. You owe me... like, wear something skimpy underneath."
"Dirty dirty, Mary Goore." You giggle, kissing the top of his head messily. "Thankyou thank you thank you!" You know he's joking about the skimpybunderwear, but you're already mentally going through which panties to wear. Will you even wear a bra? Probably unnecessary-
Mary brings you out of your excited thoughts with a pinch to your thigh. "You're thinking too hard. You'll get wrinkles." He rubs the crinkle between your eyebrows, stifling a laugh.
"Hey, don't make fun of me. Those are hereditary." You grin.
A couple weeks pass, and, yeah. Yeah, prom's tonight.
"I feel fucking stupid." And he looks fucking stupid with that sexy devil's lock and the suit you'd picked out. You try not to laugh, giving him what you think to be a reassuing smile.
"You look fine. Weird, cause, duh. But I think you look handsome as fuck." You walk closer, fixing his.. absolutely terribly knotted tie. You'd be surprised at how many knots he tied before realizing it was all wrong. Like, 5 too many.
"You're talking out of your ass." He snorts, scowling toward the mirror. "Seriously though, this feels ridiculous. Feels like I'm trying to be someone I'm not, you know? I thought we were done with that." He gets serious for a moment, and you frown.
"...Then let's fuck it up." It was a cheap suit from some Catholic thrift shop down the street named "Holy Trinity" or something, so, Mary was more than pleased to tear the thing up. You can see it in his eyes.
"You mean it?" He grins, almost like a kid who was promised another bowl of icecream. You nod, of course you mean it.
"Fuck it up, Mare. Here, let me help you." You grab the sleeve, ripping it clean off. A gasp leaves your mouth, accompanied by a wide smile. Damn, didn't expect that to work so well.
Mary grins, making a little excited sound before grabbing the other sleeve and attempting to take it clean off like you did--failing miserably. He doesn't let it defeat him though, and he tries a second time, succeeding.
"I got an idea." You run to his room. You basically live at his house, so you know every nook and cranny in his closet. Finding what you wanted, you bring it back out to him excitedly.
"We can mix and match. Put those sexy skinny Jean's back on and I think we can make this work." Another hour of getting dressed, and you're both wearing completely different outfits.
Mary walked out of the house with a deep red button up, a black tie with Jason's mask on it, those sexy skinny jeans and some nice loafers. On top, he added his special sleeveless jacket. Yeah, that didn't add to it much, but he insisted, and he was hot regardless of being fashionable or not.
Soon you arrived, parked, and walked inside... a little late, but no matter. It was.. fucking lame, that's what it was. There were friend groups dancing together, girls grinding on guys and vice versa. It felt like middle school all over again, you grimaced ten minutes in when the two of you sat at a table stuffing your faces.
"The food isn't even that good." You whisper yell over the terrible taste in music. The DJ will play justin bieber every once in a while, like, 2012 JB which is acceptable. But by the time he plays Havana thrice? You're pulling Mary out the back door to the karaoke room.
Some girl is singing her heart out on stage while her friends are basically whispering into the microphones, but blonde chick in the middle's having the time of her life. You wait, watch until it's too cringy to bare, and then Mary pulls you back inside.
You feel terrible for dragging Mary with you... and spending like 50 bucks on his ticket. He looks almost miserable, awkwardly standing around because he absolutely doesnt belong. But neither do you, so, you tug at your sleeves before going up to apologize.
But Mary stops you, grabbing your hands. "Hey, the music's lame, the food's kinda shit. But let's dance. You're only 18 and a senior once. You said it yourself," He's shouting over the music, grinning ear to ear. "let's just say fuck it and fuck it!"
You couldn't have said it better yourself. "Fuck it!" You race him to the dance floor, grabbing him and flinging each other around. You hit quite a few fellow dancers as you jam, but nothing quite matters like Mary's smile. He's enjoying himself at a place he swore he'd never be, surrounded by people and teachers he swore he'd never see again.
The hours flew by faster than you thought, and soon you were among the last crowd of Prom-goers. The DJ relays a message on the intercom, letting everyone know that the last dance will start shortly and then everyone needs to go home. Happily, Mary takes your hand as half the people leave the dance floor to go find their respective dance partners.
He bows as the music stops momentarily. "Will you do me the honor and have this dance with me, doll?"
"Oh, but of course." You do a little curtsey before he kisses the back of your hand. "You flatter me, Mr. Goore.."
He drags you closer, wrapping his arms around your torso. "You look wonderful tonight. Like everynight." He compliments into your ear as you wrap your arms around his neck. You could feel your face turn a million shades of red.
"So do you, Mare. Silly, but quite adorable." You say, quietly as the music. Was this happening? Slow dancing with Mary at prom, this was real? It feels like a dream you'd wake up from in the morning and immediately laugh at how absurd it was.
But it isn't a dream.
"Thanks for forcing me out." He says after a long moment of swaying, heartbeat impossibly fast. "This place is lame, but you made it so much better." Your cheeks flush again at how close he is to your face, his lips in your ear and his cheek pressed to yours softly.
You pull away, heart beating. Mary looks down at you curiously, wondering what you're doing--and that's when you kiss him.
He kind of stiffens, before his arms tighten around your waist and he pulls you closer. It's a soft kiss, softer for one Mary Goore. He pulls away shortly, opening his eyes again.
"Did you-?"
"I did-"
"Well-" You both say in unison, before you both burst out in a fit of giggles and laughter.
"I.. meant it." You say quickly, hoping to get the first word in. "I like you. I like your lips, your smile. Your eyes. I like your "fuck it" attitude. Your voice, oh my~" You dramatically swoon in his arms.
Mary pinches your back, stopping you with a flustered grin. "Okay, okay, I get it, I get it."
"I like you, Mary Goore. Can I kiss you again?" Mary unmistakably turns pink again, pupils visibly widened.
"I would like that." He nods, but he's the one connecting your lips again. The kiss is sweet, longer than the last, but still somehow... chaste and gentle.
"I like your lips, too." Mary starts, bringing a hand to your cheek. "I like your smile. I like the way you laugh at the stupid things I say. I love that you brought me here--" He caresses your cheek. "--I love... everything about you. Now, can we get out of here?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
#mary goore x reader#beloved mary#mary goore/reader#mary goore#mary goore headcanons#prom fic#prom au#frankenfaandom fic#ask#frankenfaandom asks#goore is still a delinquent#i ended up writing smut for this but decided to scrap it bc it sucked#regardless#i like how THIS turned out :)#mary goore being himself#soft mary for the soul#soft mary goore#hes in love your honor
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Silent Treatment ~ OT7 [M] [Request]
WORD COUNT: 3.3K
PAIRING: ot7 x reader
GENRE: ot7, non! Idol, family relationship, smut, oral f recieving, female appreciation, we’re sorry sex,
A/N: I’m still not 100% there with ot7 smut, I am trying though so I hope that this is okay for you! I didn’t add too much smut as you only said a little. I hope you like it!
If someone had told you that you would be in a happy relationship with seven men, you never would have believed them. You never took yourself as someone who would be into polyamorous relationships but when you met the boys it all changed. They were kind, sweet, caring and they all loved you equally so it was no wonder you fell hard for them. Eventually moving into a huge home together and having a child. The only difficult part about that was explaining to your daughter’s teachers that she had different people going to pick her up from school. The dirty looks you would get from other people who thought your business was automatically their business when it had absolutely nothing to do with them.
“Mummy!” You snapped out of your daydream when you heard the familiar cry of your daughter’s voice. The more she grew older the more she began to look like you. Which you were thankful for. Neither you nor the boys knew which of them was the father, none of you wanted to know either. Collectively she was your child and that was the only thing that mattered.
“Hey sweetie, how was your day?” You questioned as you bent down to pick her up, placing her onto your hip as she began to list off everything she had been doing in class that day. You couldn’t believe she was almost seven years old, time flew by so quickly with her.
“We did maths! I learnt how to multiply up to 10 today.” You giggled as you began heading back to the family car. It was supposed to be Yoongi’s turn picking her up today but it turned out he was busy and stuck at work. No big deal, you were mostly a stay-at-home mum and wife anyway since seven of them earnt far more than you knew what to do with.
“Are my dad’s at home?” A filthy look flew in your direction from the woman in the car beside your car. You weren’t stupid. You knew how everyone felt about your relationship with her fathers. Even the teachers in the school weren't best pleased that your daughter understood that she had more than one father. They expressed that they would rather have her know them as her uncles but who were they to tell you how to raise your daughter?
“Daddy Namjoon and Jungkook are but they’re a little busy, sweetie.” You strapped her into the back of your car, taking her book bag from her to check if she had homework to do.
Normally it was Namjoon’s job to help with the homework, something you were trying to make happen so she knew it was okay as she grew older but not tonight. Tonight he and Jungkook were making renovations on the house so it was going to be you that helped her out.
“Okay, I’ll ask daddy Hoseok to teach me some dance moves when he comes home. We have an end of the year dance coming up and I want to ask Jaylyn and Katie to go with me.” You smiled weakly at her. The boys were all busy with their own things tonight but you nodded along, not wanting to upset her too much before you got home for the night.
“Shall we put on some music or would you like to keep telling me about the dance?” You looked in the mirror at your daughter who pointed to the radio. One of her favourite things to do was listen to music. Something she had gotten from Yoongi. He was a radio jingle maker/ producer on the side which meant he was almost always busy with work.
“Maybe we’ll hear daddy Yoongi’s radio jingle,” You told her with a laugh as you turned up the radio and began your drive home for the night.
Your daughter had something from each of the boys, Yoongi’s love for music, Hoseok passion for dancing. Namjoon’s brain, Jungkook’s ability to be good at literally everything that she set her mind at. Jimin’s duality, Taehyung’s art skills and she took after Jin with her loud rambling in Korean. There was so much of them in her it was hard to believe she was only one of their children.
Once your daughter had finished her homework you allowed her to go and play while you cleaned up the house. It seemed that no matter how much you tidied up it would end up a total mess again. Clothes were strewn about on the top floor where everyone would come home and dump everything they had on. Shoes were piled up at the bottom of the stairs in front of the front door. Somewhat of a safety hazard. The floors seemed to always get dirty no matter how many times a day you cleaned them.
“What do you have planned for dinner?” Was the first question that flew from Jimin’s mouth once he entered the house. Shoes on messing up your freshly moped floors. Staring at him you almost wanted to slap him with the wet part of the mop.
“Jimin! I just moped!” You called out as you sat him leaving dirty shoe prints all over the place, seeming to have no care in the world as he made his way into the kitchen and heading into the pantry.
“Relax. It’s just a bit of mud.” He grumbled as he continued to go through the cupboards for snacks. Dropping different packets onto the floor that he didn't bother to pick up once he came out with what he wanted.
“What did you say you had planned?” He questioned when you began cleaning up the mess he left and then began putting everything you had been using away.
“I didn’t, I don’t have anything planned.” You grumbled as you put the cleaning products away into the kitchen cupboards. Standing back up and looking over at Jimin who shrugged his shoulders.
“Nothing planned?” Jungkook’s voice chimed in as he heard you speaking. By now all of the boys were home and expecting something to eat as if you were the only one that knew how to use the oven.
“Yes, nothing planned because guess what? I’m not the only one that knows how to cook.” You snapped as you glanced at each of their faces. You hadn't meant to snap as nastily as you did but it was getting to be exhausting being the only one that cooked and cleaned everything in the home.
“You’re the only one that has nothing to do all day. You've done nothing, the least you could have done was made dinner,” As soon as the words left Jungkooks lips the air seemed to turn cold and thin. Everyone turned to stare at him as you scoffed at the statement. The only reason you didn't work was that they had convinced you that they earnt enough, there was no need to work because who would look after your daughter all day.
“I did nothing all day?” Your hand rested on your hip as you tilted your head to the side. The boys said nothing leaving Jungkook to dig himself a bigger grave.
“I didn’t mean-”
“I do nothing? So I don’t clean all day, make breakfast and lunch for you, or take our daughter to school..." Jungkook turned pale as he realised how angry he had made you.
"I don't pick her up even though it’s everyone else's turn. I don’t do the laundry, make sure the studies are clean or go food shopping, parent and teacher meetings?” Jungkook was taken back by everything he realised you did. He had no idea that you did so much leaving them to get on with whatever they wanted to do.
“Y/n you’re being dramatic,” Taehyung mumbled as he shook his head, to him this was all easy work. Nothing about what you had said seemed as tiring as you were making it out to be,
“You know what...I don’t even have the energy for this,” You began making your way to the door when you heard Yoongi speak out this time,
“It's not like you work a full-time job, we would help but we work more than you do.” There it was. The "you don't work but we do" line. Something you had been anticipating since the moment they told you that you didn't have to work. Looking at each of their faces you knew from the moment you saw them they agreed with Yoongi.
“So you think being a mother isn’t a full-time job? That everything I do around the house is easy? Oh, please I would love to see you fucking try it for once.” You countered,
“You’re being stupid, they didn't mean it like that." All that you heard fall from Jin's lips was that you were stupid. You stared at him mouth hanging open a little but nothing came out. You just shook your head and stormed out of the room.
Ignoring them all as you stormed up to your bedroom. Normally you would share it with one boy a night, or two if you needed the extra cuddles but right now you needed to be alone. You walked past one of the studies to find your daughter fast asleep holding her barbies. Luckily she was away for the fiasco going on downstairs so you picked her up and carried her to your room. If they saw she was with you they wouldn't bother trying to get into the bed with you.
Days passed by and the boys barely noticed you were giving them the silent treatment. They were all so busy with their jobs that they didn't speak to you. Meanwhile, you played the role of the pretty little housewife that made everything perfect for them while they were away. The house was spotless, your daughter was at school on time and picked up at the same time.
"Darling, go and tell your dad's that dinner is waiting for them." You told her as you set the table for eight. Making sure your daughter's spot was right at the top of the table before putting their plates down and heading up to your room. There were piles of laundry sitting on the bed waiting to be put away.
"Daddy," She called out as she walked into the back garden. They were all working on a new wendy house for her. They were trying to make it bigger than the last one so that everyone could fit into the house for tea parties.
"Yes, sweetie?" Jin called out as she came bounding over to him, jumping into his arms and smiling.
"Mummy told me to tell you that dinner is ready," She looked at all of them and Jungkook clapped loudly.
"Break time!" He chuckled rubbing his hands together and heading into the house.
The dining room was empty and only eight placemats were set at the table.
"Where is mummy?" Namjoon questioned your daughter who was sitting in your usual spot. She simply shrugged her shoulders before eating.
"I haven't seen her much and when I do she's silent which isn't like her," Jin mumbled as he began to eat the food you'd made, everything tasted fantastic like it always did when you cooked for them.
"I tried to speak to her this morning but she ignored me," Jungkook mumbled as he pushed food into his mouth,
"I don't blame her, you were rude on Tuesday." Hoseok reminded him of the day of the fight. That wasn't really a fight more like a disagreement.
"We all were." Namjoon corrected him as they continued to think back on it.
The weekend continued on just like that. You were sending messages to the boys through your daughter using her as a messenger owl while the boys did the same back. Monday morning came around and you were standing outside the school gates with your daughter.
"Mum?" You looked at her as you zipped up her coat, grabbing her bookbag.
"What is it, sweetie?" You questioned as you made sure her hair was perfect and she looked good to go.
"Are you and my daddies going to spilt up?" You looked at her and then over at the school as the bell rang.
"No, we're just having a small fight baby that's all." You whispered as you kissed her forehead. If you tried to explain it now she'd be late for school.
"Go, I promise we'll make up while you're at school." She began rushing off in the direction of her class and you waved goodbye until the doors completely shut and you could head home.
Home where all of the boys were waiting for you. They had collectively decided to take the day off from work so they could get to the bottom of whatever was wrong with you.
"So what's the problem with you?" Jungkook questioned earning a slap around the back of the head from Namjoon who was trying to be the levelheaded one throughout all of this.
"What he means to say is, why are we getting the silent treatment?" Namjoon reiterated the question but in a different manner.
"Let me see...Tuesday night ring a bell?" You questioned as you walked past them and into the kitchen. Beginning to get started with the housework when Hoseok pulled you into a tight hug from behind. Your whole body seemed to melt into his as you missed the contact from each of them.
"We were being idiots, we were tired and irritated with our jobs and we took it out on you." He whispered in your ear as he kept his arms around your tightly never once letting go.
"Let us make it up to you," He whispered again, his breath making your back tingle as you shook your head. Getting away from him as quickly as you could. He knew what his whispers and touching did to you.
"You think I'm just going to forget what you said with a simple, "we were irritated?" Because that's not how it works!" You snapped at them all, glancing over all of their faces to see if they truly meant what they were saying.
"We didn't mean for it to be so mean and we're sorry," Yoongi told you as he stepped closer to you, holding your hand and running his fingers over your knuckles.
"We know how much you do and how hard you work," Jungkook stood up from the sofa and made his way into the kitchen to look at you.
"Now, please...Let us make it up to you." Yoongi told you again as he stepped closer to you. Running his hand up and down your cheek as you relaxed into his touch.
"None of you have actually said sorry except for Yoongi." You moved closer to Yoongi, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as you giggled.
"So maybe I should only forgive him." You looked at the boys as your lips slowly began to kiss up and down Yoongi's neck, biting down softly right at the nape of his neck. His weakest point.
"No! We're sorry! I'm sorry." Taehyung whined out desperately as he so wanted to have your body on his. It had been so long since any of you had been together intimately it was starting to become too much to be away.
Seven apologies later and you were laid on the bed making out with Yoongi while Namjoon's hands ran down your naked body. Massaging your breasts while his mouth wrapped around the other, sucking and nibbling on your nipple as you let out small moans of pleasure.
"L-Let me touch you," You complained as you reached out to touch Yoongi but he moved your hand away.
"It's about you tonight and only you," Confused by what he meant you went back to kissing him. Your lips moving in sync with one another as he held your face in his hands.
Suddenly you felt Jimin's lips on your core making you cry out at the sudden contact,
"Seems like someone has missed us almost as much as we've missed her." He chuckled as he began to slowly lick stripes up and down your folds, nibbling at your clit whenever he could.
"Jimin!" You whined out, back arching a little as he continued with the slow movements of his tongue which almost had you begging for more.
"Hmm so good," Jimin moans out as he begins to dip his tongue in and out of you. Taking his time as he slowly licks your pussy, tasting every bit of you he can get.
"So fucking good," He growled deeply, your whole body shaking as he continued to lap up your juices. Repeatedly flicking your clit with his tongue causing you to cry out his name, hands buried in his hair as you pushed him closer to your cunt.
"Jimin right there!" You cried out as he inserted two fingers into you, curling them up as he continued to suck on your clit.
Your whole body was on fire as you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge. The curl of his fingers making you moan out, every now and again he would let out growls causing your pussy to clench around his fingers.
"Don't take away all the fun," Yoongi pouted as he took your breast into his mouth, sucking harshly while Namjoon did the same to the other. Your head was spinning so fast you'd forgotten the other boys were in the room.
Watching as you were eaten out so carefully and lovingly.
"J-Jimin!" You warned as you could feel yourself beginning to get closer. The coil in your stomach was beginning to tighten with every bite, lick and thrust from him.
"I-I can't-" You couldn't even finish your sentence before your orgasm ripped through your body. Your eyes shutting tightly as you cried out his name. Hips bucking against his lips begging him not to stop until you rode out your high.
"My turn." Jungkook chuckled as he began to kiss up and down your body. Hands travelling down to your core as he began to rub your already sensitive clit. Each touch felt intensified from your previous orgasm.
"J-Jungkookie," You moaned out as he kissed you sweetly, two fingers rubbing small circles into your core.
"Shh, let us take care of you tonight, it's not about us." Jin's whisper filled your ear as he began to kiss and suck on your neck. Hoseok's hands made their way to your breasts as did Taehyung's. It was going to be a long and very good day.
By the time they were finished with you, you were panting and dripping in sweat...As well as other substances. You'd finally convinced them into letting you please them. Girls couldn't have all of the fun after all. Whining out as you held onto Jin you looked up at him,
"Someone needs to go and pick our little girl up, I don't think I'll be able to walk straight for a week." You laughed softly as Jin helped you into the bathroom. He'd already drawn you a hot bubble bath with a mug of hot chocolate waiting for you.
"I'll go and get her, we can stop by the library before we come home," Namjoon said as he watched you sink into the hot water, eyes rolling back as you finally relaxed.
"I'll come too," Jungkook said as he looked at Namjoon and then at you. Making sure you were okay before they headed out to go and pick up your little girl.
"J-Jin." Your hand reached out to touch him and he turned to look at you.
"Can you come in? I don't want to be alone." You told him, the others had all gone to wash up and you would have been alone.
"Sure." He whispered as he stripped down, getting into the bath behind you and holding you close.
"I really love you guys," You mumbled as you closed your eyes. Listening to nothing but his heart beating against his chest.
"We love you too," He whispered as he began to slowly wash your body off carefully.
Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @sw33tnight @taestannie @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block @acciocriativity @mwitsmejk @taeechwitaa @justbangtanthingz @stillwithlix
#bts#bts x reader#bts smut#bts imagines#bts imagine#seokjin x reader#seokjin smut#yoongi x reader#yoongi smut#hoseok x reader#hoseok smut#namjoon x reader#namjoon smut#jimin x reader#jimin smut#taehyung x reader#taehyung smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook smut#jungkook#jeon jungkook#kim taehyung#taehyung#park jimin#jimin#kim namjoon#namjoon#jhope#jung hoseok#hoseok
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Castiel has been able to see Glimpses of people’s future when he meets them for the first time—specifically when he first makes eye contact. It’s the big family secret and Castiel hates that he’s the one stuck with it. It’s infuriating—Gabriel asks if Castiel could make eye contact with some hot guy or girl to see if he’ll get lucky, and Castiel ignores him every time.
He doesn’t see the person’s entire life when he looks like them. It’s more like…a tsunami of information. Sometimes it’s images or feelings or sounds. Usually, Castiel can’t make heads or tails of what he experienced, so he stopped trying to interpret them a long time ago.
At this point, the flood of information is an annoyance, and he’s done his best to just avoid eye contact altogether.
Maybe that’s why Castiel is so quiet and keeps to himself. He doesn’t like meeting new people if only to avoid the data dump of another person’s future. He’s thankful he doesn’t get Glimpses when he looks at anyone he’s already Glimpsed, because he’s never be able to look Gabriel in the face. And anyone who Castiel had accidentally Glimpsed before have long since disappeared from his life, and Castiel is such a recluse that he hasn’t had a new friend in years.
Until Gabriel was an annoying asshole.
His older brother practically wrestled Castiel out of the house they shared to go clubbing. It had been a close fight and Castiel had gotten damn well near to biting Gabriel’s arm—but he eventually lost because Gabriel threatened to trample Castiel’s carefully cultivated garden in the backyard.
For the sake of his plants, Castiel reluctantly ducked into Gabriel’s obnoxiously bright red Camero.
“This is a stupid idea.” He grumbled, crossing his arms and keeping his hands tucked firmly against himself. “I’m just going to be standing there staring at the floor like an idiot.”
“No, you’re gonna keep that chin up and meet some people, Cassie.” Gabriel said briskly as they drove to Downtown. “Glimpsing a few people isn’t gonna change your life. You need friends, my bumbling, weirdo brother.”
“I can live my life just fine without friends, Gabriel.” Castiel snapped. “I have you, my cat, and my garden. I work from home and can support myself if needs be. What else do I need?”
Gabriel sighed.
“You’ll always have me, Cassie.” He said. “But have you ever thought about what you want?”
No. Of course he hadn’t. Castiel hadn’t had the luxury of knowing what he wanted since he first discovered the Glimpses.
“Your Glimpses shouldn’t be what stops you from having a life, little bro.” Gabriel continued firmly. They were in Downtown now, string lights lighting the two way street and neon signs making the air gleam in multicolor. Castiel’s chest clenched with anxiety, carefully avoiding the stream of bodies moving up and down the sidewalks in case he made eye contact with as passers by.
Gabriel pulled into the VIP spot of his nightclub, Sugar+Spice and grinned at Castiel.
“C’mon, brosky, time to swim amongst the fishes.” To complete Gabriel’s inspiring speech, he slapped two condoms into Castiel’s hand and ducked out of the car before he could throw them back.
Grumbling under his breath about invasive brothers, Castiel begrudgingly followed Gabriel through the back entrance of the club.
It was loud, hot, and chaotic. Despite not having made eye contact with anyone yet, Castiel’s senses were immediately overloaded with noise and light. He could barely hear Gabriel over the din, risking a glance up in an effort to read his lips.
This way. He seemed to be shouting. Gabriel grabbed his hand and tugged him along anyway. Castiel allowed himself to be dragged, bumping through a crowd of people with his eyes fixed on their passing feet.
Gabriel took him up to a slightly quieter, less crowded second floor and sat him down at the bar.
“Alfie!” Gabriel called to the bartender, rapping his knuckles on the glass bar top. “Dirty Shirley for my fruity brother!”
“Gabriel!” Castiel hissed. He didn’t necessarily care if people knew he was gay, but he didn’t want Gabriel going on trying to get him laid.
“Coming up, boss.” Alfie called, already moving nonstop and smoothly as he tended to the other patrons lining his bar top.
“See ya, Cassie.” Gabriel clapped his shoulder. Castiel’s heart seized with terror.
“Gabriel, don’t you dare—“
“Sorry little bro, I’ve got club owner responsibilities to attend to.”
And then, Castiel was alone. Alfie’s slim hand set a red-pink colored drink in front of him and moved on before Castiel could think he would wait a second for a thanks. He was probably too busy to care for social expectations like please and thank you.
Castiel didn’t know how long he had sat there, hunched over his drink and staring at the bar top resolutely. Gabriel could drag his ass into public, but he couldn’t make him talk to people.
People seemed to catch the hint to leave him alone, or maybe Alfie had warned them against it before Castiel could sense their presence. Some tried, though, but Castiel just shook his head. That was usually enough to leave him be.
It was well after 1 AM when he’d finally had enough sitting around and staring at his drink to ward off horny one nighters. He stood, determined to find Gabriel and force him to take him home. He was tired, anxious, and terrified of this place and of people. He didn’t like Glimpsing—it was like intruding into their privacy and instead of doing it intentionally like how a burglar would invade a home, it was hurled at him when he didn’t want it. The last time Castiel had Glimpsed, the images and noises had been too much. It had overloaded his mind and nearly made him pass out from the onslaught.
The last time he had Glimpsed was the first time he’d met a future serial killer. One could imagine why Castiel didn’t like Glimpsing anymore.
He pushed his way through the crowd, trying to find Gabriel’s recognizable white dress shoes amongst the writhing sea of legs and lower bodies.
Castiel finally reached the stairs, the door swinging shut and blessedly blocking out the din of the dance floor. The peaceful silent lasted for only a moment, though.
“Whoa, Jesus!”
Castiel slammed into a very solid form and went tumbling backwards, his back hitting the bottom staircase with a painful thud before he toppled back onto the concrete floor.
“Shit, shit, shit! I’m so sorry! Jesus fuck, here, lemme help—“
The person he collided into was scrabbling down the last few stairs, kneeling over him and grabbing his arms.
“Hey, man, you okay?”
Castiel’s entire body was ringing with the aftershock of his fall. His back throbbed painfully, already promising a nice purpling welt.
Maybe it was the pain, or maybe the ringing in his head muted out higher reason, or maybe just fate, but Castiel drifted his gaze to stare at the person who had run into him.
The moment he met the pair of green eyes the color of matcha and wild grass, he was assaulted with an onslaught of Glimpses.
Warm, comforting yellow and orange, the color that light up a home on a cozy, winter night.
The sizzle, pop and bang of fireworks in a dewy field, ringing with a pair of laughter. Bursting, bright colors lighting up a starry sky.
Metallic, greasy smell of an auto shop, the sharp chemical scent of acrylic paint, the words Winchester Auto in neon lights on the top of a busy garage and art studio.
But the main image, the one that always came through crystal clear when he had a Glimpse—
was Castiel himself.
He couldn’t force the image away, or what followed after.
It was Castiel, looming over the man’s point of view with his arms braced on either of his vision. His own face was slack with pleasure as his entire body moved up and down in a very obvious thrusting motion. His eyes were bright and wide and so full of something warm and gentle and careful that Castiel didn’t believe he could ever really do that.
He closed his eyes, willing the main image and surrounding flashes of senses to fade.
“Dude, please tell me you’re okay.” The man fretted, his hands now cupping Castiel’s face and shaking slightly. The way the man was leaning over him looked so much like how Castiel was leaning in the Glimpse that it brought him back to himself.
He sat bolt upright, smacking foreheads with the man and immediately making himself dizzy again.
“Ow.” They both mumbled. The guy scrambled back to give Castiel some space.
“You okay, man?” The guy asked again, staring at him with wide eyes. Castiel’s first reaction was to advert his eyes, but this time for an entirely different reason than the Glimpse. His cheeks burned with the embarrassment of what he had just witnessed.
“Yes.” He managed, but it sounded strained. The man, apparently took that strain as pain instead of mortification.
“Oh shit, you’re probably all banged up, shit. Did the stair hit your back? Did it break the skin?” Suddenly, warm hands were gingerly touching his lower back, feeling for the welt already swelling. Electrical shocks rippled under his skin despite the layers of clothes between him and the hand, but Castiel hissed sharply when the pressure of his fingers hit the welt.
“Sorry, hang on. Don’t move too much, not until I can be sure you didn’t break anything.” The guy was completely unfazed by touching Castiel. It was a gentle touch, but definitely clinical. Was this guy a nurse? Doctor?
“I used to be a paramedic.” The guy answered Castiel’s unspoken speculation. He gently pressed around the welt. “Anything hurt?”
“No.” Castiel managed faintly, his brain already providing unhelpful scenarios where the man’s hand drifted lower and suddenly his last Glimpse was coming true right then and there—
“Okay, I don’t think anything’s broken.” The guy said, sounding relieved. “Can you stand?”
“Yes. It’s just a bruise.” Castiel said, his defenses rising with the determination to never allow that last Glimpse to come true. There were too many risks, too many dangers associated with having friends, let alone pursue a romantic relationship. For this man’s sake and for Castiel’s sanity, he would do everything in his power to stop that Glimpse from happening.
“I’m alright, thank you.” He said quickly, stepping back to allow an acceptable amount of space between him and the man.
“Okay, uh, good.” The guy said, ducking his head sheepishly.
Please don’t. Castiel begged helplessly, staring as the man glanced up at him through his lashes. He was undeniably gorgeous. Light brown hair styled lightly and freckled, tanned skin. Those enrapturing green eyes that made Castiel want to smother himself in that very shade, framed by long lashes. Plush pink lips and a little scruff that Castiel wanted to feel on his skin. Broad shoulders filled a worn leather jacket over a flannel and Henley. Oil-stained jeans and scuffed boots. Rugged and beautiful.
What the hell did future Castiel do to secure a night with this man? How did an awkward, nobody with a fear of people manage to have sex with this perfect, gorgeous man who could get anyone he wanted?
“Sorry about that, man. I swear I don’t go running into hot guys as a pick up line.”
Castiel’s jaw dropped, and the man went very red when he realized what he’d said.
“Ah, fuck. I-I didn’t mean, that’s n-not—shit, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that—“
“It’s alright.” Castiel cut him off hastily. “I’ve actually got to go. I’m supposed to meet my brother and he’s probably worried that I haven’t shown up.”
The man looked embarrassed but startled by Castiel’s hasty retreat. But he moved to let him up the stairs.
He was already a few steps up when the man spoke again.
“Sorry again, man.”
It was a mistake to turn back around, but Castiel did, perhaps selfish enough to indulge in the man’s beauty one more time.
Then something happened that never happened before. Castiel had another Glimpse when he met his eyes.
It was gentler than the first, like an aftershock after an A-bomb.
Deep, sweet spices mixed with buttery pie dough and tangy apple.
A warm, soft red that enveloping his entire body like an embrace to protect and cherish.
The man’s deep, rough voice murmuring “Cas” with such profound affection and care.
Then, Castiel’s voice answering in the same low, gentle caress of soft happiness—“Dean”.
This could not be happening.
#SORRY FOR THE CLIFFHANGER THIS WAS GETTING TOO LONG AGAIN#IM REALLY BAD ABOUT KEEPING THESE SHORT#BUT I KINDA WANNA WRITE THIS FULLY??#MAYBE? idk#supernatural#cas#castiel#destiel#spn#casdean#dean is bi#dean winchester#deancas#destiel fandom#destiel fanfic
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hi this is my first time sending a request like this, would it be ok to ask for a threesome with two mean doms zhongli and diluc, with maybe overstimulation, spanking, rough sex, choking, bondage, orgasm denial, degrading,,,, 👉👈 thank u so much for ur service 🙏
"Bullies"
Dom Diluc/Zhongli X Sub Fem Reader
That's a lot of kinks. But I'm not complaining. Um I did have not have any pics of Diluc and Zhongli together so I did a simple 5 sec editing and here ya go! Sorry this took so long. Thank you for reading!
POV You bought a new friend home. It's a harmless hydro slime and your boyfriends dont approve of it. You get pouty and they punish you
Includes: Overstimulation, Spanking, Rough sex, Choking, Bondage, Orgasm denial, degrading, Dacryphilia, dumbification
❤💛--------------------------------------💛❤
You were living every girl's dream. Dating Diluc, the stoic bartender and Zhongli, the walking history of Liyue book.
How did you attract them? Simple, you were a cute crybaby working as an adventurer. Not a surprise when their sadistic personas screamed to make you cry even harder.
Telling you right here and now. They're gentlemen in the streets but assholes in the sheets. You loved them with all your heart but they're so mean in bed. You can't even tell them to stop because they know you actually liked it.
Anyways, enough about them. After finishing your last commission, you bought a small blue slime home because it was so cute. Not only that. It was harmless seeing as it kept following you around like a dog. Carrying the bundle of joy in your arms, you entered Dawn Winery Manor, the workers stared in astonishment watching the hydro being nestled between your breast, purring.
Simultaneously, your lovers came out from wherever they were and greeted you.
"Welcome home, darling/dear-"
They were cut off, seeing the suppose hostile mob snoozing away in your embrace. You greeted them back.
"I'm home, Luc! Li!"
Zhongli's porcelain face scrunched up in disgust seeing the slimy creature. Why the hell did you bring it into their sleeping quarters? Is that thing just made a smug face at him?? Nah hes just delusional cuz of jealously and disgust or smth
Diluc doesn't hate slimes like the Geo Archon does but not does he like them either. Rather the crimson haired thought of them as nuisances to his business.
You asked.
"I found this slime following me and thought it was harmless. Why not take it home? Can we keep it please~?"
The males looked at each and nodded before turning back to look at you. They said.
"No."
You were taken back, baffled.
"What? Why??!"
The red haired male huffed, explaining.
"I probably would not mind, perhaps let you put it in a tank and take care of it however you know how Zhongli has a very strong hate for anything slimy."
You pouted.
"Then it doesn't need to be near Li and it'll be fine!"
You were determine to have this small slime be your companion during adventuring time. Forget seelies. Forget your boyfriends disapproval. Your going to keep it in the guest room and sleep with the squishy blue ball there.
Just as you were about to run away. Diluc grabbed you by the waist, carrying you over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes, making you drop your little companion. It bounces away, squeaking. You called out, hitting the red head's lower back, weakly with your fists.
"Hey! What was that for?!"
! SMACK !
Flinching, a swift slap was delivered to your bum and you didn't know who did it. Zhongli said.
"After we said no. You still take it in? Bad girl. I believe punishment must be ordered."
You blabbered in disbelief.
Suddenly, you were tossed onto the bed, sinking into the soft sheets of comfort, your clothes were ripped off by 2 pairs of greedy hands.
Perhaps you froze in shock when they toss away your scattered remains of clothing but they're already naked, their little friends exposed yet not awakened.
Zhongli hand gripped around your throat tightly, cutting off your air way. Meanwhile, your pyro lover ran his hot wet tongue over your folds, dampening your entrance. Tears gather at the corner of your eyes, feeling hazy at the lack of air yet hot. When Zhongli took away his coarse hand away from your throat, you desperately gasped for air. Without time to rest, the geo user pressed down on your hardened buds with his thumbs. You gave a breathy moan, stilling trying to catch the air you desperately needed in your lungs.
Diluc lapped at the slick you produced from your core, his nose rubbed against your clit making you shake every 5 seconds. Taking this as a distraction. The ravenette clipped your hard buds with some sort of unique silver nipple clamps.
It stung and Zhongli is not helping by tugging on them. You complained.
"I-It hurts!"
Nothing new. They whispered comforting words but you couldn't hear them cause of the erratic beating of your heart through your ears.
Something hot entered your entrance so you looked down and saw it was Diluc's digits thrusting in and out, occasionally rubbing a weird spot that made you moan out loud. Any attempts to close your legs, resulted in your smooth legs bended over your head and harsh spankings. Diluc reprimanded.
"Bad slut."
! SMACK !
! SMACK !
! SMACK !
Losing counts of how many time the pyro user landed a hit on each of your ass cheeks. Tears ran down your face like a waterfall, feeling the burn on your poor bottom. The nerve when Diluc rubbed them, hoping to soothe the pain. Well it ain't working. Bet it's all red now but it'll be bruised tomorrow.
Out of habit you bound your thighs together. However, your archon lover decided to tie your ankles and wrist to the corners of the bed.
Your head was turned to the side facing a big angry weeping member pressing against your lips.
"Open your mouth and take it all in like the pretty whore you are. You wanted us to punish you in the first place. That's why you disobeyed."
You gaped, screaming in your mind.
'ILLOGICAL! WE DID THIS JUST YESTERDAY."
Zhongli took the opportunity of your slightly opened mouth and slammed his member down your throat. You gagged, quickly trying to adjust to the large accompany in your mouth.
Man, they really manhandling you today. The ruby eyed male also plunges his length into your entrance, slowly pulling it out to the tip then pushing the rest in. You mewled in etascy. In sync, they fucked you at a rough pace. Just as you were about to release, they slowed down. You softly whine, tugging your hands, weakly at the restraints.
"Would you look at that. Our pretty whore wants to cum. Does she deserve it, mister Diluc?"
With a expression of annoyance, the red head rejected.
"No."
They continued the torture; fucking you at a relentless pace and when your about to reach your high, they slow down before repeating the process.
You cried, miserably. Their teasing was just endless. Letting them do whatever to your body, you felt your eyes roll up. The pyro user, chuckles.
"How cute. We fucked her brains out. She took her punishment so well. She deserves a reward, no?"
Zhongli takes off the toys pinching your swelling nipples, agreeing with the other male.
"Yes, even a bitch needs to cum at some point. Let her cum all she wants."
You didn't register the fact they pulled out their lengths, already taking off the restraints when they turn you over onto your stomach, doggy style. Their members slid back into you no problem. It was like your holes was made for them or they fucked you so much, your body's insides molded to their dick shape.
You moaned over and over again, cumming for who knows how many times. You were conscious however your mind was somewhere else.
Since they took away your walking privileges for the next 2 weeks, you get to keep the slime. Haha in your face geo daddy.
You named the small of hydro element, Puppy cause why not?
--------------
Again sorry for the wait! I'm trying to manage my schedule to scoot in a writing here and there since I also have Wattpad to deal with.
This one took a while but I am very excited for the next nsfw/crack request coming up and hope to achieve big brain for it.
#genshin impact#genshin+impact+x+reader#genshin imagines#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact imagines#genshin zhongli#zhongli#diluc x reader#genshin diluc#diluc imagines#zhongli x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin x reader
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Wake up, babes! New gay little road trip chapter just dropped! By god I am determined to get through at least Chapter 6 of this bad boy before S5 drops. My original plan was to try to get through Chapter 13, but like. That was when I was under the impression the S5 release was scheduled for December. Not, you know, fucking September O_____o
I mean. I’m not complaining. BUT my posting schedule (what I have of one anyways) is going kaput XD Hope y’all will continue to read this as it inevitably becomes wildly canon-divergent.
HUGE shout-out to @xgardensinspace for helping with Spanish translations, local wildlife, toll road info, and Mexican slang! Honestly the whole reason I got the idea for this chapter in the first place was because we were chatting about street food in Mexico and I was like “wouldn’t it be funny if Eli tried to stomach extremely spicy taco sauce purely to show off and had a much worse time of it than he planned?” XD
Read on for a healthy dose of Demetri-Miguel friendship angst (it’s back, baybee!!!), a surprising reveal on how S3 Demetri spent many of his Friday nights, and Demetri and Eli continuing to annoy every customer service worker in Mexico!!! These boys are a menace.
***
“I’m telling you. These toll roads are bleeding us dry, Eli! Dry!”
“Demetri, you paid less than $2.”
“It’s highway robbery is what it is! By the time we get to Mexico City, we’ll have just enough cash to sustain ourselves on durito wheels for the rest of the trip.”
Eli groans. Demetri hears the passenger’s seat squeak as his friend throws himself back into it, slumping down like a wounded animal.
“Was that—was that a pun?”
Demetri clicks his tongue. “It was the best you’ve heard all day.”
“You and your bitching are the only things I’ve heard all day. I have no basis of comparison.”
“So my puns win by default.”
Eli only snorts. “I guess. But they don’t deserve it.”
Demetri gasps. “Next, you’ll be saying you don’t like my graphic tees and my quirky and charming socks!”
Eli sighs. “I was waiting for the right moment to tell you. They’re—they’re very dumb.”
“How could you?”
Demetri slaps the back of his hand against his forehead. He glances over to glower at Eli, who is still slouching in his seat like Demetri’s theatrics are physically paining him.
The taller boy wrinkles his nose. “Well, I’m sorry you don’t appreciate art, Eli.”
“I’m not sure how you define art, but I’m pretty sure it’s not a shirt demanding I ‘say banana.’ Or a cat on a piece of bread.”
“You gave me that one!”
“I thought you’d have more dignity than to wear it.”
“Then you must not know me very well.”
“I know you far better than I’d like.”
“Would you like to know me less?” Demetri taps the steering wheel. “I can do some research on how to induce amnesia.”
“Pass. That’ll just give you an excuse to re-tell me all your Doctor Who theories.”
“They are good theories!”
Eli scoffs. “Still way too canon-compliant, if you ask me. Season 9 was a mess. You can’t theorize your way into the inconsistencies making sense.”
“Wait.” Demetri squints ahead, unfocused gaze settling absentmindedly on a line of palms on the horizon. “You actually remember my theories?”
“Obviously, dumbass. You talked like one of those conspiracy guys on YouTube.”
Despite himself, Demetri smiles. All those months of being a grade-A Cobra Kai asshole, and Eli Moskowitz couldn’t bring himself to delete the “Demetri Nerd Shit” folder filed somewhere in the back of his brain.
Eli huffs, like a little kid being forced to apologize by some adult. “Okay, and not all your shirts are stupid. The cherry pi one is pretty funny.”
Demetri smirks. “You loved the cherry pi one. I remember you wanted us to get matching ones, but you said you’d be too self-conscious to actually wear it.”
“Ugh.” At the mention of this, Eli sounds like he’s eaten a teaspoon of sewage and is attempting to recover. “Imagine if we’d showed up to school in coordinated outfits. As if we weren’t being bullied enough.”
“Oh? You think Kyler would have taken issue with us having better fashion sense than him?”
“Kyler took issue with us being alive.”
“Biggest tragedy of them all that I didn’t get to pound his ass in the All Valley.” Demetri shakes his head. “But anyways, what about now? Would you wear matching shirts with me?”
His smirk widens, and his friend gives him a surly look.
“Place we bought it went out of business,” Eli mumbles. “It was some niche, kitschy site, and the link’s defunct.”
“Oh!” Demetri crows in triumph, reaching over to jab Eli’s side. “So you have looked into it!”
“Okay, fine, so what?!” He can’t help but laugh at how defensive Eli sounds. “It’s a clever shirt! Besides, now I can just kick the ass of anyone who talks shit about it.”
A flash of black and white catches Demetri’s eye, and he looks up just in time to see a tiny, white-spotted animal darting into the road. He shrieks, slamming the brakes and swerving several feet across the yellow line to avoid the thing.
Eli grabs his arm, matching his scream almost exactly. The brakes squeal, car wobbling and jerking about as he maneuvers it back to safety.
“What the fuck, Demetri?!”
The iron grip on his forearm does not loosen, even after the danger has passed. If anything, it grows tighter.
“We almost hit something,” Demetri says, trying to sound nonchalant. He gives Eli’s still-fastened hand a couple reassuring pats. “And my mom throwing fits about dents in her car aside, I’d rather not exile any of the local wildlife from this mortal plane. What was that little gremlin, anyway?”
“I don’t know. Looked like a skunk or some shit.”
“See? This is what we’re paying for!” Demetri gestures furiously at the open road. “Inconsiderate mustelids!”
Eli snorts. His hand begins to loosen around Demetri’s arm, but doesn’t fully let go.
“Still can’t believe you didn’t know about the toll roads. You told me you researched everything.”
“Okay, so I had one oversight. And it cost me half a fortune!” He wiggles a finger at Eli in what he hopes is a very commanding manner. “Let that be a lesson to you to always double and triple-check your trip plans.”
“I guess it was kind of short-notice.”
“Maybe so, but that’s no excuse for being financially irresponsible. Honestly, you might well have saved our behinds last night by convincing me to opt out of a hotel room—even if I am still slightly shocked we didn’t get murdered in our sleep by desert ne’er-do-wells.”
“Ha!” Eli’s grip finally loosens enough that his hand retreats—only to promptly return and give Demetri’s arm a triumphant slap. “I told you! See? Your know-it-all ass isn’t right all the time.”
“Yeah, yeah, fine. You win this round, Moskowitz.”
A lush green cornfield sweeps out on the side of the road, long leaves seeming to stretch for miles. Demetri’s eyes trail over the tall stalks as they pass, mind filling with fresh-baked tamales and shredded beef wrapped in tortillas. His stomach grabs at him painfully.
“God, we’ve barely eaten all day,” he complains. “I’m starving.”
Eli snorts. “What, 3 bags of Cheetos and a side of candy and soda weren’t enough lunch for you?”
“Unfortunately not.” He heaves a resigned sigh, holding a hand up. “All right. Executive decision: We are stopping for a real lunch. Check what the next town is, will you?”
“Sure thing, boss.” Eli spits the last word out, and Demetri imagined his friend rolling his eyes. Typical stubbornly rebellious Eli.
Nonetheless, he hears Eli still typing away at his phone. “Um…the next decent-sized one is Guasave.”
“Guasave it is! I’m sure they’ve got a taco truck hidden away somewhere in there.”
“You know they’re gonna look at us weird for ordering lunch at like 4:00, right?”
“Better late than never! I promise you my stomach is not going to care.”
***
“What?! No chimichangas here?”
Demetri whimpers miserably, frantically looking over the faded menu. He starts to regret stopping for the first taco truck they saw—a run-down little thing in the middle of a narrow parking lot.
The dingiest of lunch stands had always proved to be the most lucrative—until now.
Eli snorts. “Who are you, Deadpool?”
“They’ve had them at every other food cart we’ve been to!” he retorts.
“Yeah, well.” Eli rolls his eyes. “The further south we go, the less they’re gonna be into that Americanized shit they sell near the border. You should’ve anticipated this.”
“I’m failing to anticipate a lot of things on this trip, huh,” Demetri grumbles.
He scans the menu again, looking for a suitable second choice. A trickle of unease slithers through him.
He takes a breath, resisting the urge to grab Eli’s hand to steady himself. This is no time to get overwhelmed.
Okay, start with the things you know. Taco. You know the word taco. Also salsa.
Demetri Alexopoulos, exemplary student ranked within the top 10 of the West Valley High junior class, is not about to get an anxiety attack over ordering his goddamn lunch. No matter how Spanish and how incomprehensible his meal options are.
“I can’t make out what half of these words mean,” he complains. He does his best to sound casual—and like he’s not slowly being eaten by all-consuming despair.
“Translate on your phone, dumbass. Use WordReference or something.”
Luckily Eli is none the wiser. He continues pondering the menu, oblivious to Demetri’s ever-building—and very stupid—distress.
Demetri takes another breath, pulling his phone from his pocket and plugging each of the mystery taco types into the internet. Though the menu has pictures of a few, Demetri would rather know the full extent of what he’s putting in his mouth.
He hums thoughtfully, thumbing through a translation website. Tripa is a no-go—he isn’t particularly keen on eating cow intestine. Bistec and barbacoa seem like safe options—the pictures look good, anyways, and they’re only steak and barbecued beef, essentially. A few words he can’t find a translation for, so those are probably best avoided.
One taco variety looks particularly strange. Demetri types it into his phone and lets out an alarmed squawk.
“Wire tacos?!”
He spins around and seizes Eli’s shoulders, shaking them with urgency. “Eli, why are they putting wires in the tacos?!” he asks frantically.
Eli frowns. “What are you talking about?”
Demetri removes his hands to use one to shove his phone in Eli’s face and the other to gesture insistently from the ‘alambre’ written on the menu to the ‘alambre’ translated on the phone. His friend only scoffs.
“You’re so dramatic. It’s probably a local slang term or something.”
“Eli!” Demetri lets his voice drag out into a pained whine. “This has to be a violation of at least seventeen health codes! Should we even be eating here?!”
The shorter boy heaves a deep sigh. “They’ve had alambre at every other place we’ve eaten, Demetri. You didn’t notice because you were too busy stuffing your face with fried beef-and-cheese wraps.”
Demetri paces back and forth, head in his hands. “So they were putting wires in the tacos too?! Were there wires in my chimichangas, Eli?”
Eli only arches an eyebrow. “You tell me. Did you bite down on any thin metal?”
“No,” he admits. “But I wouldn’t know if they ground them up small enough.”
“Don’t you think if there was ground-up wire in Mexican street tacos, we’d have heard about it by now? It’d be kind of a huge news story. And anyways.” Eli rolls his eyes. “If it was part of some grand plan to…I don’t know, gradually turn anyone who likes street tacos into a cyborg, they wouldn’t just advertise it on their signs. It probably means something else.”
Demetri crosses his arms. “Then what the hell does it mean?” he demands.
“I don’t know! Ask the guy!”
Eli gestures to the beleaguered taco salesman behind the cart, leaning on the counter and looking as though every word of this exchange is draining more from his stamina bar.
“You ask him!” Demetri shoots back, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I barely know any Spanish!”
“Well, neither do I! I can’t speak Spanish for shit!”
“Then how do we know there’s not—”
“Demetri.” Eli cuts him off, putting firm hands on his shoulders. “I promise there’s no wires in the tacos. If there are, well…” He sighs. “I’ll sell the bike to pay your hospital bills, okay?”
“You’ll sell the bike?” Demetri arches an eyebrow. “Well. Now I’m kind of hoping there’s wires in the tacos. Maybe I should order—”
“Yeah, no.” Eli shakes his head. “No way in hell are you ordering alambre. You’ll do it to show off, and then have an anxiety attack all the way to Mazatlán.”
“Fine.” He lets out a defeated sigh. “I’ll just have to think of some other way to persuade you to get rid of that death trap.”
“Good luck with that.”
“I will do it someday, Eli! Mark my words!”
He gives Eli the “I’m watching you” finger signal before turning back to the menu. He’ll admit that some of the taco pictures, non-chimichanga and metal-filled though they may be, don’t look half bad.
He starts to trudge over to the truck, Eli following behind. “Just so you know, I am absolutely holding you to what you said if I find so much as half a millimeter of wire,” he grumbles.
The taco salesman is slouched against a shaded metal counter, looking tired. It’s as though there’s a finite amount of energy in the parking lot, and Eli and Demetri have already sucked up a fair bit of this man’s with their loud American squabbling.
“Uh…barbacoa tacos.” Demetri smiles meekly. “Cuatro.”
Cuatro. I know cuatro. His smile widens to a beam. That’s something.
The salesman nods. “Salsa?”
“Oh! Um…”
Demetri hesitates. He’d forgotten about sauces.
The man’s eyes bore into him impatiently, and he quickly assesses the pictures on the menu. “Green,” he decides. “Verde.”
See, look at me! I’m not half bad at this! I know colors too!
The taco salesman turns to Eli. “Y usted?”
Eli ponders for a moment. “Mmmmm…carnitas. Cinco.”
Demetri turns to arch an eyebrow at him. Trying to one-up me, are we?
“Salsa?”
As the salesman asks the question, Eli slides across the counter and leans on his arms, breaking into a gigantic, shit-eating grin.
“Deme la mierda que este más picosa pa que amarre!”
The taco salesman gives Eli a look indicating the man thinks he is a complete idiot. He exhales, face scrunching up like he’s putting all his concentration into not passing judgment.
“Habanero esta bien?”
Eli nods, still beaming like he won the lottery.
The taco salesman shrugs, although he still doesn’t look like he approves. “Diez minutos,” he says, sliding them a scrap of paper with the number “7” written on it.
It’s odd, considering they’re the only people in line. Demetri figures this must be the taco man’s revenge for having to watch them bicker over whether to give him business.
He turns away from the taco truck, walking over to lean against the wide, shaded trunk of a palm tree. When Eli joins him, Demetri rolls his eyes at him.
“‘Can’t speak Spanish for shit,’ my ass.”
Eli shrugs, clearly trying to seem nonchalant and not succeeding in the least. “You’re around Miguel enough, you pick some stuff up.”
Demetri winces. He forgets sometimes that Eli has nearly two months on him on the “Miguel Diaz Rubbing Off On You” track.
He hated that summer. He hated how busy Miguel always was—either going on dates with that mean Cobra girl with the constant scowl on her face, or locked up in a strip mall dojo letting the psycho with the snake tattoo slowly fill his head with poison. The texts from Miguel came less and less, and the distance in his eyes at their video game nights made it feel like he was slipping from Demetri’s grip as quickly and silently as a water moccasin.
The same video game nights, of course, that they’d had to stop inviting Eli to.
Demetri knows Miguel and Eli did stuff without him, too. And that was fine—he never wanted to make Miguel pick sides in something that wasn’t his fight. That, and Miguel might have been the only person Demetri trusted to pull Eli back out of the Sith, if he wandered in too far. If Miguel wasn’t there to protect him, to keep his head screwed on straight…
He shudders.
The months that Miguel was in the hospital were bad enough. Demetri’s stomach churns at the thought of what might have happened if Miguel had abandoned Eli much sooner—calling off their friendship as soon as he heard about Eli threatening Demetri at the mall. What might have happened if he chose Demetri sooner, and left Eli and his darkening path to the mercy of the wolves.
Or, cobras, rather.
Demetri saw what Eli was like, trying to show off to that Rickenburger guy and Tory Nichols and their whole rotten little clan. They seemed to know exactly what he wanted to hear, telling him he was strong and brave and tough and utterly invincible. Seeing every terrible thing he did and nudging him to do even more.
He followed them around for a few months longer and he would have ended up behind bars. Demetri’s certain of it.
In any case, the hurt of Eli pulling away had been a category all on its own—the subject of what felt like dozens of tearful nights. The first real heartbreak Demetri had ever known. But Miguel pulling away…
Kind, steadfast, annoyingly optimistic Miguel, who gave loyalty for no other reason than because he wanted to. Who stuck around at the losers’ lunch table when he had every reason to believe he could do better. Who saw Demetri fall and crouched down to touch his shoulder, smiling and saying he knew Demetri could get back up and keep going.
When Miguel started to build a fence between them, Demetri didn’t know what to believe anymore.
Not a wall, at least. Miguel Diaz is much too nice to shoot an entire wall up in the face of his friend. Nonetheless, he built something—something that made it feel like you were wandering through a deep, foggy, confusing wood to try and reach him.
And by the time school started again, Demetri was getting lost in the trees nearly every time.
And Eli got to have Miguel a little more that summer. For better or for worse, Eli had Miguel in a way Demetri didn’t know how to. Not even a year of friendship, and the two Cobras painted a world of their own that Demetri just couldn’t seem to slot himself into. And it hurt.
He can’t say which of them he envied more, to be honest.
“‘Metri?”
A hand closes gently around Demetri’s shoulder and squeezes. He almost starts, but Eli’s touch holds him steady.
Suddenly he’s back in Sinaloa, gazing into the concerned blue eyes of his best friend. “You okay, Demetri?”
“Wh—” He forces a smile, chuckling. “Oh, yeah. Just spaced out for a bit.”
He shakes his head to clear out the hectic, miserable thoughts. “Anyways. Habanero?” He looks at Eli and raises his eyebrows. “You used to cry when I gave you pieces of my Panda Express orange chicken because it was ‘too spicy’ for you. What gives?”
Eli scowls, concern dissolving. “That was years ago. People change. I’m not some little sniveling, weak-mouthed pussy anymore!” He rolls his shoulders, loudly cracking his knuckles for extra effect. “I can handle anything.”
Despite himself, Demetri snickers. “What, you thought Sensei War Criminal Kreese was going to award you a blue ribbon for downing a ghost pepper?”
“It’s not about that!” Eli snaps. “It’s about the stamina! The mental fortitude!”
“It’s about intentionally trying to make your mouth experience the heat death of the universe for no reason.”
Eli scoffs. “You’re just jealous. You accidentally bite into a jalapeño and you scream like a little girl.”
“Maybe I enjoy not having my gums feel like they took a vacation to the deepest pits of hell, Eli!”
“Wimp.”
“Dumbass.”
Eli bristles, clenching his fists. “I got it hammered into me every day for months that losing a fight was the worst thing that could happen. And now you think I’m about to let a pepper get the better of me?!”
“Well, now you’re Miyagi Do, and we get to pick our battles,” Demetri counters. “And Mr. L would say deciding on an opponent that’s a vegetable that literally evolved to not be eaten is idiotic. Not very badass.”
Eli crosses his arms. “The fact that it evolved against this is all the more reason not to let it come out on top!”
Demetri sighs. “And what, pray tell, do you hope to gain from asserting dominance over a zesty taco sauce?”
“Bragging rights!”
“To whom? I don’t think Kyler’s going to be quivering in terror when he hears. ‘Oh no! This kid can eat habanero sauce!’”
Eli scowls. “I can kick ass and tough out hot peppers, Demetri. And sometimes I run out of ass.”
“Still. I’m not sure what you’re trying to prove. Aggressive masochism really isn’t the power move you think it is.”
“There’s no masochism involved. I love the burn!”
Demetri clicks his tongue. “And that, my friend, is the masochism. I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m pretty sure it isn’t natural to want your oral cavity to feel like the Valley during wildfire season.”
“Please, please never call it an oral cavity again. Anyways, I still think you’re bitter that I’m tougher than you.”
“Siete!”
Demetri is opening his mouth to reply when the voice rings out across the parking lot. His stomach twists painfully in on itself, and he’s once again reminded how long he’s gone without nourishment.
They practically sprint to the counter, all but throwing their pesos at the poor man who has already had to endure enough today. Eli eyes the thick orange sauce drenching his carnitas like he’s won the lottery.
They wander through a wrought iron gate into a nearby park, meandering their way to a thatched roof gazebo shaded by palms and lush summer trees. Eli admires his meal the entire way, and Demetri can practically feel the waves of hubris rolling off him already.
“So when exactly did you start craving Scoville toppers?” Demetri sits on one of the gazebo benches, taking a bite of a barbacoa taco (which is, admittedly, probably just as good as a chimichanga). “Did you automatically absorb 5 levels of spice tolerance as soon as you got that crazy hairdo?”
Eli shrugs. “I started ordering the hot shit when I went out to eat. You know, with all the peppers next to it. Built up some decent resistance.”
“Okay, then.” Demetri smirks. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“Gladly.”
Eli raises a taco to his lips, orange sauce dribbling down scarred knuckles. He takes a bite and chews.
At first he seems unbothered, even humming in mild approval. It takes a moment before the color drains from his face, eyes widening with a terror Demetri hasn’t seen since the days of Kyler and his goons harassing them in the library.
And this is all before the noises start.
Eli lets out a muffled “mmmmmph!”, lips squeezing tightly together and entire face tensing. What follows is a sequence that looks like a small frog is trying to escape Eli’s mouth.
His lips twitches in every direction, looking as though they’re fighting the urge to let loose a scream. His breath comes in quick, shallow puffs, like someone tired out from fleeing a serial killer and trying not to pant too loud. Demetri can even swear there’s a wet film forming under his friend’s eyes.
Eli lets out a series of pained grunts, trying to hide each one more than the last. The fist not holding the taco clenches and unclenches, nails leaving red marks in pale skin. His entire body is twitching, and his skin glistens with bright sweat. Whether it’s a buildup from the late afternoon sun or a new addition from the habanero sauce Demetri really can’t say.
Eli whines, the pain apparently so great that he’s bothering less and less with disguising it. Demetri smirks.
“You okay there, buddy?”
“Yeah!” Eli gives him a stiff thumbs up and the most strained smile Demetri’s ever seen in his life. “It tastes great!”
“Does it?” Demetri takes another bite of his much-more-pleasant-tasting barbacoa. “Because you kind of look like you’re suffering.”
Eli’s terribly-watering eyes sear into him. “I am not! I���m handling it like a damn champ.” He flexes a bicep to prove his point, face twisting the entire time.
At last, little puffs of breath cease to be enough to rid Eli of free-floating pepper molecules. His mouth opens wide, releasing a hot cloud of sharp-scented air.
“That’s…okay, that was a little more intense than I expected.” His voice is tight, still attempting to conceal quite a bit of agony.
“You want to trade?” Demetri offers him a taco. “I’ll take one for the team.”
“Oh, please.” Eli curls his lip. “Demetri, if you so much as sniffed one of these, you’d pass out.”
“You underestimate my power.”
“I perfectly estimate your power, Anakin. Pretty sure this sauce would kill you instantly.”
Eli takes another bite of his taco, and the cycle of pain begins anew. He attempts to disguise the anguished groans as mumbles of pleasure, but Demetri knows better. Eli will fake badassery until he has burned his entire mouth off, and then some.
Demetri sighs. “Do you want me to get you some milk? There’s a bottle in the cooler.”
Eli frowns, temporarily distracted from the ever-raging destruction of his gums. “When the hell did you buy milk?”
“At the last Oxxo.”
Eli gives him a judgmental look, and Demetri scoffs. “What? I don’t trust hotel coffee creamers! Do you know what kind of preservatives they put in those? Besides, milk has less calories.”
His friend snorts, spice apparently forgotten. “Since when do you care about preservatives and calories?” He lets out a long groan. “Moon’s been rubbing off on you, hasn’t she?”
“So what if she has? Have you had her acai smoothie?”
“Oh, god.” Eli made a face. “She made you the weed one?”
“It’s not—it is free-trade hemp oil, Eli! There’s a difference!”
“When even did she make it for you?”
Demetri shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant. “Girls’ night. Sometimes she, Yas, and Sam would invite me.”
Eli snickers. “You’re not a girl, though.”
He rolls his eyes, unfazed. “You can be an honorary girl for one night. I promise you your dick doesn’t vanish. Besides, Moon has the best weed in town. And the best face masks.”
“Yeah, checks out you’d be finicky over skincare.”
Eli shakes his head, taking another (admittedly hesitant) bite of his taco. As he chews, he lets out a quiet, pained whimper, sweat on his cheeks parted by a barely visible tear streak. He grabs one of the gazebo poles, clutching so hard his knuckles turn white.
Demetri sighs. “All right, that’s it. I am getting you the milk.”
“Wai—Demetri!” Eli’s efforts are in vain, fingers snatching at open air long after Demetri is out of grabbing range. He knows Eli will probably complain this is the pussy move, but so be it.
Seeing Eli Moskowitz in distress has always been his weakness, it seems.
When he returns, Eli is pressed up against one of the gazebo poles with his teeth clenched. He looks like he escaped a torture chamber.
Demetri decides he definitely made the right call. He pops the cap and offers the milk to Eli.
“Okay, drink up. I know you’re a man of few words, but I still wouldn’t advise destroying your mouth. You might need it for something.”
Eli raises an eyebrow, teeth still clenched. “What, like sucking your dick?”
Demetri’s cheeks grow hot, and he mentally curses Eli’s ability to eternally throw him off-guard. “Are you offering?!”
His friend scoffs. “You wish I was.”
“Just drink the damn milk.” He thrusts the beverage into Eli’s hands. “I’ve had plenty of watching your dumb ass be in immense pain and pretend like you’re not. I saw enough of that while you were in Cobra Kai.”
Eli scowls at him, but nonetheless snatches the milk away with the speed of a particularly determined raccoon trying to nab an appealing piece of garbage and make a break for it before flashlights illuminate the dumpster. He downs half the bottle in one gulp, and Demetri places a cautionary hand on his arm.
“Slow down there, tiger. You have to make that last through three more tacos.”
Eli shoots him a white-rimmed glare. “Don’t tell me how to live my life.”
He laughs, raising conceding hands. “All right. Your funeral. I don’t have the best track record of preventing you from making poor life choices, anyhow.”
His friend puts the milk down to take another ill-advised bite of taco. It isn’t long before he’s picking up the bottle again.
“I can’t believe Moon gave you the weed smoothie,” he mutters. “She told me that was only for ‘really special people.’”
“It’s not weed, it’s free-trade hemp oil!”
“Yeah, whatever. Anyways.” Eli growls out the words as he starts to fan himself—something he’s sure to blame on the summertime sun, but is also coincidentally only doing near his mouth. “Not that I care, because it’s lame, but…why wasn’t I invited to girls’ night?”
“That was during your villain arc.”
“Oh. Right.” He bites his lip, looking away.
“And I’ll have you know it was not lame!” Demetri crosses his arms. “And we didn’t need spiked smoothies to get high. Moon’s home-grown backyard cannabis was plenty potent on its own, believe me.”
Eli perks up, suddenly interested. “She still has that weed greenhouse?”
“Oh, yeah.” Demetri laughs, shaking his head at the memory. “One time, Yas got so high that she wouldn’t stop giggling and hitting on Sam and Moon. That was my first inclination that maybe she wasn’t straight.”
“Holy shit.” Eli leans forward, grinning. “Did she kiss either of them?”
“Not while I was there. Mostly she was just getting real cuddly with them—slung an arm around Moon, tried to hold hands with Sam, the works. But when I went to the bathroom?” Demetri whistled. “Who’s to say?”
“Wait…so…she might have cheated?” Eli frowns as the realization seems to sink in. “And that doesn’t bother you?”
“Oh, please.” Demetri rolls his eyes as he takes another bite of barbacoa. “Whatever we had going on back then hardly had enough of a label for that to count as ‘cheating.’ Yas didn’t want anyone to know we were even messing around for a while.”
“Really?” Eli gives him a skeptical look. “Seemed like she was crawling all over you as soon as we started hanging out again.”
“Right. Well…” Demetri laughs uneasily, running the hand not currently covered in taco grease through his hair. “Her mom…kind of went through her phone over Christmas break. Saw some texts with Moon about how she might like girls and flipped out. Yas told me later the only way to get her to back off was by insisting it was all a dumb phase, and she had a steady, committed boyfriend. As soon as school started up again, she leaned pretty hard into the whole ‘relationship’ thing. To keep up appearances and all.”
“Ouch.” Eli grimaces. “That’s rough. Poor Yas—well, poor both of you.”
Demetri shrugs. For whatever reason, the thought of Yasmine preferring girls almost the entire time they dated doesn’t bother him much.
“To be honest, I suspected for a while,” he admits. “Before she came out, I mean. She was always feeling up my chest when we made out, but like…in a way that made it seem like she wished there was more there.”
“Oh my god.” Eli snorts out a laugh, nearly choking on a hunk of carnitas. “Dude. She was legit pretending you were a girl.”
“I mean hey, if it gets me some action, I’ll take it.”
Demetri really can’t judge. There were plenty of times when he imagined the hands crawling across his skin were just a little rougher, the knuckles a little more calloused. There were plenty of times when he imagined the waist bumping against his own had a bulge in the middle. Or that there was a thin ridge of stiff skin just to the left of Yasmine’s nose, right above her top lip.
Eli shakes his head, taking another bite of his taco in between chortles. To Demetri’s relief, his next sip of milk is much more subdued.
So he is trying to make it last after all. Thank god. The last thing Demetri needs to see is his best friend writhing in agony all the way to the next Oxxo.
Unfortunately, Eli’s next bite of taco is what really kicks off the problems.
The blatant cry of pain is Demetri’s first clue that things have gone amiss. After an entire meal of sealing suffering away like a pest in a trap, such an open display of torment is not to go unheeded.
“Eli?” He frowns.
“Fucking hell.” Eli speaks around a mouthful of carnitas. He spits out a chunk of food, and Demetri catches a glimpse of something bright orange in the dirt. “This asshole really threw a whole-ass piece of pepper in there. Right in the middle of the meat. God.”
He breathes hard, frantically switching between fanning his mouth and rubbing his (probably burning) cheek. Like that’s going to do anything.
Despite himself, Demetri laughs. He puts his lunch on a gazebo bench and strides forward, placing a comforting hand on Eli’s shoulder.
“Well, you did say you could handle anything.”
“I thought—fuck—I thought it would be fine.” Eli wheezes out the words like someone’s performing an exorcism on him. “Oh, god. Fuck. My entire mouth is burning.”
He buries his face in his hands, hunching over. His head bumps into Demetri’s chest, and the taller boy tries not to blush.
“Fuck, it hurts so bad! Make it stop, Demetri!”
He pleads in a choked wail, like he’s imploring someone not to take all his loved ones to the firing squad. His hands slide to the side, and Demetri sees thick tears streaming down his face. He lets out a muffled sob, any attempted image of toughness long gone.
For a moment, he doesn’t look any different from the panicking 12-year-old who couldn’t handle Chinese fast food, breaking down weeping in the middle of a mall food court. The whole thing had been a nasty spiral, the frantic tears only coming faster as he grew more and more terrified that he was making a scene. Demetri covered him up the best he could, blocking Eli’s chair with his long body and faking a loud argument with his mom to draw the attention away from the crying preteen.
At least it was mostly funny to think about now.
“There, there.” Demetri pulls Eli into his arms, holding him tight against his chest. Eli doesn’t fight it, melting into him like a soggy popsicle. His hands latch onto Demetri’s shirt as he caterwauls his woes.
Demetri rubs his friend’s back, and Eli’s wails soften to mere pained moans. “Owwwww…”
Demetri chuckles into Eli’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “I’ll protect you. The peppers can’t hurt you anymore.”
Eli snorts in response. His hands shove into Demetri’s chest, but not hard enough to push him away. “You’re a fucking dork.”
“Uh, I’m not the one who tortured myself with hot sauce to win a dick-measuring contest that was never actually declared. So you might be the fucking dork, Mr. Moskowitz.”
Eli grunts disapprovingly, but doesn’t actually contradict the statement.
Once he seems to have cried most of the spice out of his body, Eli pulls away and takes a breath. He gives Demetri a strained smile as he wipes watery eyes with the back of his arm.
“Okay. I’m cool. Everything’s cool.”
The offending taco finds its way into the garbage can outside the gazebo. Demetri would usually never advocate wasting food—starving children overseas, etc etc. In this case, however, sacrifices must be made for the survival of Eli Moskowitz’s mouth.
“So.” Demetri throws a comforting arm around his friend as they walk back to the gazebo bench. “Other than nearly burning your mouth off, how are the carnitas?”
Eli shrugs as they sit down. “They’re good,” he says around his newest mouthful. “Not as good as the ones Miguel makes, though.”
“Wait, wait.” Demetri gives Eli a skeptical look, arm suddenly dropping. “Hold the phone. Miguel cooked carnitas for you?!”
“Well…” Eli’s face scrunches in brief concentration. ��Actually, he called them fritadas. So no.”
“Wh—no! Not the point!” He huffs, glaring at Eli. “You’re telling me Miguel Diaz cooked a meal for you?”
“It’s not a big deal!” Eli turns and glares at him. “We were hanging out after practice and it got late, so he offered to make dinner. His mom was working a graveyard shift, and Rosa was at her book club—”
“Rosa?” Demetri gawks at Eli. “What, you and Miguel’s grandmother are on a first-name basis now?!”
Demetri can’t believe this. He went over to Miguel’s house loads of times sophomore year—some trips with Eli, some without—and never once did Miguel saunter into the kitchen and whip him up authentic Ecuadorian cuisine. The most they ever did was walk to the convenience store a block away and grab some chips and candy. And now he’s meant to believe Miguel was cooking full-blown meals for Eli while he was out of the picture?!
He flings his hands in the air, so emphatically that several pieces of barbacoa fly out of one of his tacos. “How many times did this happen?” he demands.
Eli shrugs, frowning in slight confusion. “I don’t know. A few? We’d start bingeing TV and lose track of time.”
“A few!” Demetri scoffs, shaking his head.
Absolutely unbelievable. While he was busy painting all of Mr. L’s ridiculous fences in the scorching summer heat, Eli was getting spoiled with home-cooked food and probably repeatedly being told by Miguel that he was the coolest guy on earth. Maybe sometimes Aisha and Miguel’s terrifying Cobra girlfriend came along too, and they all had a grand old time eating Miguel’s cooking and making fun of pussy nerds who couldn’t do karate.
Eli gives him an utterly perplexed look. “What’s the problem? It’s just some stupid fritadas.”
Demetri lets out an exasperated sigh. “It’s never just ‘fritadas,’ Eli. It’s one of the truest shows of camaraderie there is.”
“What, is there some niche cultural thing about it in Ecuador?”
“No!” Demetri slaps a hand to his face. “You don’t—you don’t waltz into the kitchen and throw together a meal for anyone.”
“Oh. Oh.” Eli breaks into a shit-eating grin as it dawns on him. “You’re jealous.”
Demetri snorts, glancing away so Eli can’t see his cheeks turn red. “Am not! What do I care if Miguel made you dinner a few times?”
“You jealous little shit.” Eli leans in close, smirking up at him. “You’re pissed Miguel didn’t cook for you.”
Demetri huffs, refusing to meet his friend’s eyes. “I’m not pissed about anything. I’m just trying to figure out why Miguel only started doing this when we weren’t coming over together anymore.”
“I don’t know.” Eli shrugs again. “Maybe it was a convenience thing. And it was summer, so he wasn’t busy with homework or anything.”
“Oh, sure!” He rolls his eyes with dramatic flourish. “He suddenly has time to feed you substantial meals, but he never bothers with me!”
Eli lets out an exasperated sigh. “You forgot when he came back to school? He picked you over me when it really mattered.”
“Yeah, but he never made me carni—excuse me, fritadas!”
“He just made me food a couple times, man. It’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal!” Demetri gasps, clutching a hand to his heart. “What—does my souvlaki mean nothing to you, sir?!”
“Your souvlaki?” Eli raised his eyebrows. “You mean the souvlaki you tried to make with your mom and argued over how to do the whole time?”
“We did not—”
“‘Demetri, fos ton mation mu, you must add more olive oil! Your souvlaki will be as tasteless as Mrs. Hasapi’s décor!’” Demetri groans as Eli mimics his mother’s shrill, overbearing tone.
Eli turns up the tip of his nose, voice turning nasally. “‘But mom! The recipe called for ¼ cup, and you put 1/3! The flavor won’t sink in like it’s supposed to. The kebabs are ruined!’”
“Come on, I do not talk like—”
“‘Oh, god! The oregano!’” Eli goes on ruthlessly. “‘You poured it in without evening out the teaspoon! What have you done?’”
“She was so imprecise,” Demetri grumbles, crossing his arms. “Recipes have specific ingredient amounts listed for a reason. The guy who wrote that recipe probably called for 2 cloves of garlic because he tried with 3, and the whole thing was a repulsive disaster! Other people write these cooking instructions so you don’t have to figure all this nonsense out yourself and set your kitchen on fire in the process.”
“And yet.” Eli gives him a crooked half-smile. “The souvlaki always turned out fine. Even when you and your mom didn’t do exactly what you were supposed to. Or, god forbid, let the oregano go over the rim of the teaspoon.”
Demetri feels his cheeks heat up in a blush. “You…actually liked it? You’re not just saying that?”
“Nope.”
“Was it, uh…” He looks away, blush deepening. “Was it as good as Miguel’s fritadas?”
“Hmmm, well…” Eli scrunches up his face in concentration before turning to give Demetri a wide smirk. “I wouldn’t go that far. Nothing’s as good as Miguel’s exclusive specialty fritadas, apparently made only for me.”
“You asshole!” Demetri shoves Eli so hard that he nearly dismantles what’s left of his tacos. Eli breaks out laughing, bracing himself with his arms as he falls on the bench.
“Lighten up,” he snorts. “Soon as we find Miguel, I’ll let him know you’re a huge baby and you’ll never recover if he doesn’t make you fritadas. I’m sure he’ll be happy to do it as a favor to a fellow traumatized ex-Cobra.”
Demetri swats a snickering Eli.
“Still can’t believe he likes you better than me,” he mumbles.
Eli rolls his eyes. “I promise you he does not. He likes us the same.”
“But—”
“If anything, you’re the golden child. He never asks to use my study guides, or copy my class notes when he falls asleep. I think it’s because, uh…” He rubs the back of his buzzcut, smiling meekly. “You’re not the one with a history of…irresponsibility? You’re the consistent one.”
“Yeah, the one consistently not cooked for.”
“Hey, c’mon.” Eli throws a loose arm around his shoulder, guiding him up from the bench. “I’ll tell you what. When we track this fucker down and drag him home, we’ll all have a huge game night, and I’ll tell him to make more fritadas than you can eat. How’s that? Then are we even?”
Eli jostles his shoulder, and Demetri sighs in defeat. It really is very difficult to say no to Eli when his arm’s hooked around your neck like that.
“I’ll accept it,” he grumbles. “But only if you don’t eat any of the fritadas. That would give you a one-up.”
Eli laughs, squeezing his shoulder as they walk toward the car. “I think I can go without for one night.”
Demetri tosses his empty taco wrap into the trash can, a reluctant smile finally tugging at his lips.
“All right, Eli. Let’s go find Ecuador’s best expat pork chef.”
***
First a pissing contest, and now a dick-measuring contest??? Will the genitalia-related competitions ever end with these two???
Most of the Spanish translations I feel like aren’t super hard to extrapolate BUT, if you’re curious, “Deme la mierda que este más picosa pa que amarre!” roughly translates to “Give me the spiciest shit you got and tie it!” “Tie it” is Mexican slang relating to “tying up loose ends.” Miguel probably picked it up from the Latino kids at school, and then Eli picked it up from Miguel XD
Also “fos ton mation mu” means “light of my eye” and it’s a common Greek endearment! Never let it be said that I don’t strive for cultural accuracy in my gay fanfiction XD
Credit where credit is due to @xgardensinspace for suggesting Eli should get a hug after being traumatized by spicy tacos and being absolutely correct.
ALSO yes, I know it can be kind of annoying for fic to reduce the canon female love interest(s) of an mlm ship to “mean lesbian bestie” SO I’m trying to give Yasmine the depth canon continually refuses to! Like I do unironically think she’s lesbian--that’s not just a “now she can’t get in the way of Elimetri” thing, I promise--but I also think she deserves better than to be a 1-dimensional “queer-coded mean girl” type stereotype. So here, have some Yasmine backstory angst! Also I REFUSE to believe she was randomly all over Demetri in S4 because she suddenly got super obsessed with a guy who annoyed her not 5 seconds ago, I just REFUSE, that is TERRIBLE WRITING and very icky treatment of women and I could go on--
(tfw you don’t even ship Samsmine but by god, you are going to commit to Raging Lesbian Yasmine, and also Sam LaRusso is a dang catch, like who wouldn’t want her??? No one, that’s who. Having any teen lesbian character not be at least a little into Samantha LaRusso is simply unrealistic. This requires no elaboration.)
Yes, Moon’s rich family (including a mom who gave her high-quality weed for her birthday) has a home-grown weed garden. Also yes, Demetri gets invited to Girls’ Night with the ladies and gets spoiled with face masks. It’s what a fancy lady like him deserves, and he deserves to shamelessly hang out with his female besties without being embarrassed about it!
Also ALSO credit to @baldwinboy5ive for giving me the idea of Demetri being way too anal about cooking ingredient amounts in her fic “Fermentation” XD
As always, moodboard pic credits available upon request! (Tfw you’re rapidly running out of pics of Buzzcut Eli not in a gi to use, so you have to resort to cropping the ‘hawk to get him a pic of him smirking like a little gremlin like you want XD)
Chapter 1: Here
Chapter 2: Here
Chapter 3: Here
Chapter 4: Here
Chapter 5: Good news! You have already found Chapter 5, and are currently looking at it!
The first four chapters are also up on my AO3 page, SummerPhlox!
#binary boyfriends#hawkmeat#elimetri#aesthetic#moodboard#hawk x demetri#demetri x eli#demetri x hawk#eli x demetri#demetri alexopoulos#demetri cobra kai#eli moskowitz#hawk#miguel diaz#sam larusso#samantha larusso#moon cobra kai#yasmine cobra kai#fanfic#fanfiction#cobra kai#cobra kai season 4#season 4#season four
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Gojo Satoru general headcanons
Let's get one thing clear: this man is absolutely chaotic. He is always full of energy. His energy levels never reach below 50%. He is loud and proud, always running, and never takes a minute to relax.
Do not give him Monster. Shoko did that once and it took her forever to get him off the ceiling. Also, avoid caffeine. Shoko replaces his normal coffee with decaf and he still hasn't noticed the difference. Keep it that way.
He was the class clown when he was younger. He wasn't exactly a trouble maker, but he may as well be. I cannot word that sentence and I am sorry. Next.
All of his teachers assumed he never listened in class, so they always called in him when they thought he wasn't paying attention. It still shocked them every time he rattled off the correct answer.
Not only did he answer the question correctly, but he could also explain his reasoning behind the answer, and if it was multiple choice, explain why the other answers were wrong.
This tall man child would march up to the board and absolutely fill it to the brim with work, turn around, drop the chalk-like a mic drop and walk back to his desk with the smuggest look on his face.
That doesn't mean he did the work tho
Idk how schools in japan work but we all know schools in America only care about the amount of work you do and not what you actually know so we'll use that for the sake of the headcanon: he had straight D's bc he never turned in his work
Despite not doing the work snd goofing off, teachers actually really liked him
A lot of people liked him and he was super popular, but he still felt alone
Fake friends, you know how that works, he didn't meet any real friends until he became a shaman
Clean freak. This dude actually makes his bed. He scrubs his bathroom twice a week. His desk can get cluttered but he straightens up once a week. He's not exactly a germaphobe because
He cannot respect your personal space and that's actually canon but let me take it a step further
He's a slapper. Especially when he laughs. It doesn't hurt, it's playful dw. He hugs you from behind especially when he's cold. He picks you up and carries you around. He will grab your wrist, arm, or hand and lead you around even if you're following him. He lays his legs across you or lays across your lap. Puts his head on your shoulder. Platonic cuddling between friends is mandatory. He's just so hands-on it's ridiculous.
Unless you explicitly tell him you're uncomfortable he won't stop
Don't worry, if you aren't in that type of relationship, your no-no square is safe. Except, if you seem chill, he will slap your ass regardless of friendship status. His ass is also slappable. You can't tell me Geto and Gojo didn't run around slapping each other asses, okay
He was weird and scrawny as a child. He didn't start beefing out until he started training to be a shaman and he's still kinda smaller than most beefy boys
He can pick you up and throw you around easily. He carried around a 170 pound Yuji like a sack of potatoes and can easily carry around three times that weight
It's amazing he's so tiny because you remember 2014 Shane Dawson making all of those wack ass desserts that was just s pile of chaos wrapped in chocolate?
He can eat every last bite of one of those monstrosities without getting a stomach ache, gaining weight, or dying basically
He knows bc Yuji dared him to do it
He has really cold hands and feet
He sounds old. Let me elaborate. He's constantly cracking his joints. They also creak when he moves. He complains about body pains like he's 80 y/o
He also shares wisdom with the kids as if he's actually 80 y/o
It's irrelevant advice that doesn't make sense but is also useful. Megumi can't count the number of times he's asked Gojo for feedback on his technique but had been told to remember to chew 40 times or never go to bed angry
Starts off sentences with "now son" and "when I was your age"
He uses his blindfold as a headband when he wants his hair out of his face. He also uses headbands as... Headbands... When he wants to wear sunglasses but get his hair out of his face
He owns so many pairs of sunglasses but he always wears the same pair
He's only bought a handful of them himself, most of them are gifts
No one knows what to get him for Christmas or his birthday bc he has everything, so they resort to sunglasses
His favorite pair is a pair that Shoko and Geto bought him as a gag. He thought they were dead serious, though, so he wore them around for a month
They were heart-shaped, rose-tinted glasses
Can you believe this man doesn't use any gel or anything to keep his hair spiky with the blindfold on? It just naturally defies gravity when the blindfold is on
Tell this man he's pretty because he already knows. He's narcissistic but not the cringy kind
Photogenic as hell. Takes great pictures from any angle.
He gives everyone a different story as to why he covers his eyes. Sometimes he says it's because his eyes are too pretty and are a distraction. Sometimes he says it's because the sunglasses/bandages/blindfold look cooler than his eyes. Sometimes he says it's to protect the six eyes from seeing things he doesn't want to see. The world may never know
He's tried covering his whole face before, but he thinks he's too pretty for that. He at least wants one of his many amazing features to be shown at all times.
So about his driver's license;
He knows how to drive. He can be a good driver. When he wants to be. He just doesn't have a driver's license.
Now he TELLS people he just never got around to getting one, however, there's a rumor he lost it due to too many parking tickets
It's amazing the only tickets he's ever gotten have been from that and once he got caught without a seatbelt; he would have gotten out of that one if he hadn't been flirting with the police officer so bad
This doesn't stop Gojo from driving places though
He steals Ijichi's car a LOT and Ijichi DOESN'T KNOW HOW like??? The windows are never broken and it doesn't look hotwired-
Gojo has a key
You're not even supposed to be able to duplicate car keys but Gojo did
Also; none of the first-year trio knows he doesn't have a driver's license, though that much should be painfully obvious
He whips around corners, speeds up at yellow lights, goes "watch this" and does a donut, it's just a mess
The poor students have to sit in the backseat too. Just imagine Megumi with all three seatbelts around him like that one meme.
He thrives off of Nobara and Yuji screaming from the backseat, and he can see Megumi being smooshed because he thought the middle seat was the safest through the rearview mirror
Which he doesn't even need because of the six eyes
Despite being such a reckless driver, he knows when danger will happen, so he's never once gotten in a wreck
He blasts the radio, which makes up for the driving.
Has a habit of getting in a car and ending up in the McDonalds drive-thru
Steals other people's fries and keeps the fullest one for himself.
He was rebellious as a kid and teenager, but hey, at least his juvie record is sealed
He's been detained and in the back of a cop car many times, but the reason was never really bad enough for him to be arrested. Mostly he's just being mouthy. And the time he got caught spray painting on the side of a building. And that one time he and Getou hopped the fence to get into the local pool. And that other time-
It got worse after Getou wasn't around to get him out of trouble. Suddenly, breaking the rules wasn't fun anymore and he mellowed out.
Tried alcohol and cigarettes before he was legal. Decided neither was his thing, however, he did start drinking occasionally when he was legal.
He's a fucking chaotic drunk. Oh my god he's absolutely feral
Most bars in the vicinity know him by name and they sigh whenever he walks in
Shoko is his emergency contact. She hates it
Shoko has to drag drunk Gojo home at least twice a month and is not happy about it
Once she left him in an alley. He made it home okay so she guesses it's fine
Once he got so drunk he spilled beer on his sock. The thought the fastest way to dry them was by sticking them in the microwave. Forgot about it until someone asked, "Who the fuck is cooking socks???"
I feel it important he was in the break room of the local grocery store and no one knows how he got there
As he was escorted out he stole a grocery cart and rode away in it while singing Don't Threaten Me (With A Good Time) by Panic! At The Disco
He has no alcohol tolerance at all what so ever
He will literally just stare at you and giggle
It's funny he's really flirty but also doesn't seal the deal. Literally, every woman in that bar is willing to get in his bed but he declines every offer. No one knows why
Its because he respects women
He helps his students break the rules as long as they're within reason. Once night Yuji was really hungry and after having a temper tantrum he couldn't order Uber eats bc the school is supposed to be secret Gojo helped sneak him out to get food. Who needs curfew anyway.
The shirts in his closet range from like twenty bucks to the iconic rich bitch shirt the kids ruined in that one chapter we all know the one
He still wears that by the way, he calls it "art"
When he was younger, Megumi drew a picture of Gojo being eaten by his shadow dogs. Gojo found it and now it's framed in his room.
He keeps up with current trends and memes like no one's business. This is how he bonds with his kids.
Don't call him old, but also, he'll tell you to respect your elders it's a mess
He has a lot of games on his phone. You can usually find him holding his phone sideways playing some RPG game he probably spent too much money on
He did hop on the Pokemon Go hype train but after becoming overpowered he got bored
This happens to a lot of games. He pays way too much money, gets to be the strongest in the server, and gets bored
He likes games where you can kill other people's troops and likes to watch as they lose all their power
I canon him as being borderline sadistic
This is why he's Sakata Gintoki reincarnated
White hair, sweet tooth, black leather clothes, dad vibes, never takes anything seriously bc when he does he's scary as fuck, the works.
He is Sakata Gintoki
He liked Gintama growing up. He watched a lot of iconic shows as they aired. He considers himself an og
He's hella bilingual
Because he's the strongest he goes overseas for missions a lot. Because of this he speaks a lot of languages and knows a lot about international cuisine
He takes pictures of himself eating disgusting foods like snails. He never likes them but he loves the idea of Nobara gagging back in japan
Has paperwork sitting untouched on his desk from three months ago that he will not touch for at least another three months
Does the crossword puzzles in the newspaper every week
Uses humor as a coping mechanism and it honestly just became a personality
Constantly popping his joints. I'm sorry if you find this gross I too find it gross.
Probably brought home every stray animal he ever met ever until he was at least like 22 y/o
Tags: @wasabito @kittaliapenn
#jjk#jjk spoilers#jjk headcanons#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen spoilers#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#jjk gojo#jjk satoru#gojo headcanons#gojo satoru headcanons
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For the Holidays
Summary: In which Spencer does not want to go to his high school reunion, but you tagging along changes things. “You doubting my skills, Dr. Reid?”
WC: 2.1k
Tags/Warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fake-dating trope, pining (so much pining), Morgan trying to be a good big bro (and wingman)
Spencer Reid does not hate Christmas.
“Reid, come on⎼”
“No.”
“Just listen to me.”
“I did, and it’s a stupid idea.”
No, really. Because hating Christmas would imply he didn’t care. Which he does.
Like when Garcia never fails to drag him into decorating the bullpen every year. Obnoxious Christmas music plays in the background as they bomb Hotch’s office, and it’s worth the smile on his face when he walks in the next morning.
It would mean hating Rossi and his extravagant dinner parties. And yeah, he always hosts but these are just as special if not more so. His mansion is decked in fairy lights and streamers, the food are traditional holiday recipes, and the whole place seems a little less massive.
And he doesn’t hate his breaks. He nearly spits out his coffee when Morgan grumbles about how he almost tripped and fell over from the ice. He has to scramble away as the older man bats at him.
Or when Prentiss drops off holiday-themed pastries? Mhm, just thinking of the ribbon-tied box makes him salivate.
Hating the Christmas card is completely out of the question. Henry and Michael make them every year for the entire team, and JJ makes an effort to shake them out carefully for. It has a boyish charm Spencer never had at their age, a mess of glitter and construction paper. He displays it on his desk anyway.
And you. It would mean hating all the various hot chocolate beverages you’ve made since December started.
Apparently, it’s serious business⎼the art of hot chocolate making. You’ve leaned against his desk, hands waving about as you try to articulate to him the relevance, going over anything and everything you can remember of its history and significance. Of course, he knows all of this already, but he likes you too much to stop you. He almost releases a loving sigh. Instead, he settles for nodding and grinning at you, and he doesn’t really get it but he loves it: the hot chocolate, your pensive expression as you await his critique, even though by now he’s sure you know he has no other comments except ‘delicious’.
He loves it all. He loves you⎼all of you guys. Obviously.
So, no. He does not hate Christmas.
But that doesn’t mean he loves it either.
Which is why, when Morgan leans against his desk, he greets him as normal, a smile forming on his lips as he sets his book down. There is no danger here, except Morgan’s guns. And the heinous green and red envelope between his fingers⎼
Where the hell did he get that.
Spencer’s blood froze. His collection of trauma was nothing compared to this.
Now here he is, packing away his things so he can go home to his warm, cozy apartment and order takeout like he does every year. He's not one for change. No need to break tradition.
But Morgan is acting like a child. Wait, no, even children are better behaved than this. Children at least give up faster.
“I’m telling you, it’s a good idea.”
“As a certified genius, I can say with all honesty, it is not.”
“I promise you it’ll be fine,” Morgan reassures him, voice soothing. The letter, colorful and bright and an eye sore, mocks Spencer. He wishes his reflexes were faster, so he can snatch the abhorrent cluster of sparkles and poorly printed holiday cartoons. And shred it.
Maybe if he glares hard enough, it’ll burst into flames.
“Morgan, my class hated me. The whole school hated me,” Spencer shoves another book into his satchel. It's harder than he means to, and he sends a silent apology to Stephen King; he usually handles his books with care. But not right now. Now, he's tired and exasperated and he just wants to curl up on his couch with The Doctor. "I'm sure I won't be missed."
"But you’re the life of the party!"
Spencer looks up.
Morgan winces, "Yeah, even I wouldn't believe me.” Spencer snorts, continuing to stuff his belongings into his satchel. Morgan’s relentless however. “But you deserve to show them up. You’ve got degrees⎼plural⎼and you're a hotshot FBI agent.”
“Are you not aware of the tragedy that is my high school social experience?”
“Oh, I'm very aware, and thank you for being vulnerable with me. But it's because I care that I’m telling you.”
Morgan’s hand falls heavy on his shoulder, making Spencer pause. He meets his gaze, the man’s expression solemn.
“You deserve to rub it in their faces until the only thing they can smell is your success.”
Morgan grins when that draws out a laugh from him.
Spencer huffs, “Shouldn't we be the bigger person here by not going?”
The older man grimaces, retracting his hand as if the idea offends him. “Fuck that. Be a show off! They deserve to be knocked down a peg after what they did to you in high school.”
Spencer bites his lip. Yes, he’s accomplished, and yeah, as Morgan said, he’s a ‘hot shot FBI agent’. But the memories surge in like a broken dam, cruel laughter and harsh words crashing into him as if he’s twelve years old again. He’s an adult now, so he doesn’t topple over from the impact like before, but the pain is a phantom limb, old and familiar, and leaves a pit in his stomach.
He was a child prodigy then. How would going back as he is now be any different?
Morgan's heart clenches when an unspoken pain flits across Spencer’s face, glossing over his eyes. He can't imagine how deep the emotional scars go, but he knows Spencer needs some form of closure from his past. So when he found the invite, he knew they had to seize the chance. If he wants to continue to move forward, Spencer has to learn to let go. And right now, this is his first class ticket. It’s why he’s pushing this so hard.
This is for Spencer.
But the doctor shakes his head, a strained smile tugging his lips. “Morgan, I had no friends. Even if I go, what am I supposed to do once I arrive? It'd be awkward enough as is.”
“True,” The older man contemplates, a light bulb going off as he snaps his fingers. “You know what you should do? Ask (Your Name) to go with you.”
“(Your Name)?” Spencer jolts, fumbling to catch his phone. Despite being a man of science, his eyes dart around, like you’re a demon summoned at the mention of your name. “Wha-what? Why?”
“They could act as your buffer. And you did say you wanted to be closer with them. This is the perfect opportunity,” Morgan shrugs. Like his suggestion is common sense, logical. Maybe it is.
But this is you they’re talking about. You would never. You’re too cool for a silly high school reunion.
At least, that’s what he’s convinced himself as Spencer’s face pinches. He catches his lip with his teeth. “Morgan, I appreciate the… thought, but I could never ask (Your Name).”
“Ask me what?”
… Oh no. You are a demon.
Spencer whirls around in time to see the glass door shut behind you. You stand there in all your poise and beauty, the fluorescent lights softening your expression. You're bundled up in a matching coat and scarf, the knitted beanie snug on your crown and clashing with your outfit (Garcia told you it’s not your Christmas present, but you’ve worn it everyday since). There’s sprinkles of snow all over you.
You’re not a demon, Spencer decides, even as you brush a clump off your shoulder, nose scrunched in annoyance. More like a snow angel.
You tilt your head curiously when Spencer doesn’t answer immediately. There’s a knowing look on his face as Morgan, realizing the poor guy probably won’t respond any time soon, steps up.
“(Your Name), I thought you went home already.”
You cross the bullpen. “I was. Garcia walked me down and I got to the courtyard. Then I realized she had me so distracted that I left my phone charger,” You rummage around your desk and without looking up, you reiterate, “So ask me what?”
Spencer blinks. “What?”
“You had something to ask me, right?”
Right. That. He runs his fingers through his hair awkwardly. “Actually, I don’t⎼oof.”
Morgan jabs his side, “Yes, there is something Reid needs to ask you.” He sends him a meaningful look.
“Shoot.” You nod to them before rifling through your desk drawers. Nope, not there. You card through files and office supplies, oblivious to the conversation Spencer and Morgan have with their eyes, shooting looks and mouthing at each other.
You bend over your desk as Morgan gestures, Ask them!
Spencer shakes his head vigorously, No!
Do it, or I'll do it for you, he mouths.
Spencer squints at him. You wouldn't.
Morgan smirks and Spencer's heart drops to his stomach. Before he can run, shout for help, literally anything, the man slings a buff arm around his shoulders, forcing Spencer to slightly bend down to his level, hugging him to his side.
He's trapped. Stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Fuck.
“Reid is going to his high school reunion,” Morgan starts, biting back a grin when the nerd squirms against him. Both men boys watch, one excited and the other petrified as you disappear behind your desk.
“That’s nice.”
"Yeah. But all his classmates are older than him and married…“
“Uh-huh…” You scan the dark floors, half-listening as Spencer frowns at the unnecessary detail. He never told Morgan such a thing. He didn’t even know, so how would Morgan-?
“So, can you guys pretend to be a couple or something?”
Thud.
“What!?”
Luckily, neither of you notice the other’s surprise as Spencer chokes on air at the same time you let out a pained hiss.
Morgan lets him pull away, withholding a snicker. “You good, (Your Name)?”
“I’m okay!” Your head pops up from under your desk as you rub the top of your head. You blink owlishly. “I’m sorry, did you just ask me to pretend to be your partner?”
“Yes! But Reid’s partner,” Morgan emphasizes, slapping the doctor’s back hard enough he nudges forward.
You stand and Spencer straightens up, trying not to fidget as your gaze burns into his. You’ve known each other for quite some time now, and while Spencer likes to think he knows you pretty well, it bothers him when your expression becomes unreadable. He knows it shouldn't but it does. He’s a profiler, yet your thoughts are completely obscured by a mask. It only makes him more nervous than he already is.
His skin feels hot when your eyes trail over him, and he prays his scarf is enough to cover the flush spreading from his neck.
He's about to disintegrate when you finally answer.
"Okay."
His brow shoots up and his heart flips. You move away from your desk as he sputters, "Really? Are⎼are you sure? I don’t want to put you out of your way.”
“I wouldn’t have agreed otherwise. Why?” You step closer, and he can’t breathe, not without it hitting your face. You stare him down the bridge of your nose, eyes narrowed. “You doubting my skills, Dr. Reid?”
“What? No, of course not!”
You raise an eyebrow expectantly. “Then it’s settled? We’ll pretend to be a couple for your reunion thing?"
A beat of silence. Spencer realizes you're waiting for his confirmation. But panic rises like bile in his throat and he hesitates.
Maybe he should back out now, retract the entire conversation and take the embarrassment like a man. Tell you he was never planning to attend the stupid reunion because his classmates were (and probably still are) assholes. Honesty is key to any relationship after all.
Especially between coworkers. Ahem.
A flicker of movement and Spencer glances over your shoulder. Morgan nods frantically at him, teeth flashing as he grins wider than before. He gives him two thumbs up.
Maybe, for once, he should pull a Morgan and just vibe it.
Yeah. Yeah!
Swallowing, he nods to you, giving you his signature white-person smile because he's sure if he speaks he might blurt out something completely inappropriate. Like statistics on workplace relationships (they’re great reading material, okay).
Your lips quirk up. "Cool. Text me the details when you get the chance.”
You brush past him before he manages a reply, your footsteps fading. Morgan waggles his eyebrows at Spencer. Spencer blankly stares after you.
“What just happened?”
“You just got a date to your reunion. A fake date, mind you, but you’re welcome nonetheless,” Morgan smirks at him. “So, you got a plan, Pretty Boy?”
His face falls, and the hearts in his eyes⎼shit, had they always been there?⎼chip slightly.
He does not have a plan.
Deleted scene:
“Did you do it?”
“It went all according to plan, Mama.”
AN: I fucked myself over and wrote 7k+ and still counting. Now it’s an unplanned holiday mini series. This kind of stems from Bonding as this uses Mysterious!Reader. Also, I seem to be into pining (fuck established relationships, suffer in silenceee). Whatever holiday you celebrate, I hope you still enjoy this one shot!!
One of the biggest disappointments of CM: Spencer doesn’t confront his high school bullies. I read several fics of him doing so, but a lot of them have the bullies be just as much of an asshole as they were to him in the past, but he deserves more closure.
This will be my take on it. It’ll be a lot of pining but I hope to focus on the his hardships in a less angsty, dramatic way.
Hope you enjoy it!! There will be at least 3 parts?
Also, spread the usage of the term ‘partner’, which can be used for same-sex and opposite-sex relationships.
#spencer reid x reader#matthew gray gubler x reader#mgg x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x oc#mgg fanfiction#mgg imagine#mgg fic#my writing#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x oc#criminal minds x y/n#criminal minds
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☾✧✧✧ I'm just looking for a good night ✧✧✧☽
female enhanced!reader x tfatws!Bucky
In which you get dragged into a mess in Madripoor while just trying to enjoy yourself. But is the infamous Winter Soldier as bad as you always thought?
[ a/n: idk what this exactly is but i don't hate it, and who doesn't love asshole bucky? maybe i just have a problem, also loosely based on that madripoor episode. also also tried something new for the writing style so i hope you don't mind lemme know if it's shit ]
Minka is polish for strong-willed one, and is a name but here it’s used as a nickname as it’s reader insert
[ word count: ~3,580 words (this started as a lil drabble of reader meeting bucky at a bar, but i guess my brain had other ideas)
includes: asshole bucky, swearing - like a lot (i'm aussie okay?), drinking (alcoholism?), it's pretty fkn angsty, asshole bucky (i'm warning you ok), no -18 pls as it's not entirely g rated & has some implications
[ all works are my own, do not steal, repost or translate ]
tagging some friends (message if you wanna be on a perm taglist/if you don't wanna be tagged in future (i won't take it to heart i promise)) @sweetdreamsbuck @beefybuckrrito @mymindslabyrinth @igotnoname4thisblog @theluxuriousfangirl @posinhay @barnesand1
The music was blaring, sending vibrations through her body as she swayed to the fast beat. Drink sloshing around as she waved her arms around her above her head. This was it. This was living. Drunk, surrounded by strangers. No one knew her and she knew no one. She was free. And it was incredible.
Going to clubs alone was dangerous, she couldn't remember the number of times her mother had warned her not to. She must have been rolling in her grave at her daughter not only going to a club alone, but to a club in Madripoor no less. The thrill that anything could happen only exciting her more. That, and knowing that the Powerbroker wouldn't let anything happen to her, wouldn't let anyone lay a finger on her. That was the perk of being enhanced and not looking like it, it made you useful.
She had lost track of the hours, and the drinks, thinking only of how good the music made her feel. Of how nothing had felt this good in so long.
She waded through the sea of people, already locking eyes with the bartender as she made a beeline for the bar. She was stopped in her tracks, however, by a wall of bodies.
An almost animalistic growl ripped through her as she slapped her hand down on the shoulder of the man in the middle, a big fur collar adorning his coat. A hard hand gripped her wrist in response and her eyes shifted slowly from the back of man one to the owner of the hand.
Her eyes widened at who they landed on, then narrowed to barely visible slits. Yanking her hand back she didn't break her glare.
"I'm sorry, Dove, did we cut in?" The voice of the middle man broke her chain of thought, and when she looked back to him, he had turned to face her. "How about we buy you a drink to apologise."
"I don't want your handouts, Baron." Venom dripped from her words as she spat back her response. She wedged herself between the Baron and the third man, not someone she recognised, to snatch the drink the bartender placed out for her. "Besides, I don't pay here anyway, don't want you wasting your money."
She was about to work her way back through the crowd of people and to the middle of the dance floor again when she had a thought.
"Hold the fucking phone." Spinning on the spot, her eyes narrowed again, this time at the Baron, but that didn't stop her from seeing the man to his left step forward defensively.
"How are you even here? Last I heard you were stuck in a prison in Germany." Her drink was down and she slammed the glass down on the bar, getting threateningly close to him as she did. "Thought you were never getting out after what you did to them." Her sentence trailed off as her eyes flicked to the man next to him, the one with the metal arm.
The Baron offered her his signature smug smile. "Some people had other plans."
"Well, whatever you're planning," She closed the gap between them further. The shifting of bodies next to them was halted with a raise of the Baron's hand. "Stay the fuck away from me." Hatred seeped from her whole body.
Snatching the new drink that was placed on the bar, her gaze was turned to the apparent bodyguard.
"And I'd think twice before you lay a hand on me again." There was no response, but a subtle cocky smirk instead that only heated her further. She was gone before any of them could speak another word to her.
She was only able to start enjoying herself once more when the sight of the three men had disappeared, then, she was able to let her guard down and the beat of the music slowly took her over again. Until she got a call.
Plugging her other ear so she could hear, she took mental note of the location she was told to move to. The call ended abruptly, they always did with the Powerbroker, but this one was serious. She had begun picking up on the subtle differences between the calls.
Her gun was pulled from her thigh holster as she advanced towards the room Selby used for meetings.
She listened from a distance, the ability being one of many. A phone rang. An awkward silence as the conversation started. Names were thrown around, first Smiling Tiger. 'Yeah, that guy was definitely not Smiling Tiger', she thought to herself as she listened, remembering her run in with him one time. The phone call ended with a goodbye to "Sam"?
There were gunshot before she had time to process anything further.
Kicking the door down, she stepped through slowly, gun raised. It had fallen silent, the three men stood in the middle of the room.
"Holy fuck, what did you do?" Her voice was a mix of shock and anger. The men snapped their heads up.
"Things didn't exactly go according to plan, Dove." The Baron regretfully shrugged as he looked around at the collection of bodies on the floor, inclusive of Selby's.
"Well, why the fuck am I-" A fifth person joined the room before she could finish.
"Because the Powerbroker requested it." Sharon Carter approached her, stone-faced. “And nobody disobeys the Powerbroker.”
“I don’t know, I might’ve had I know it was for these idiots.” She was dead serious as she said it, glaring at the men responsible for the bodies strewn about.
Sharon shot the other woman a look, a look that said ‘you better cut it out right now’.
"Don't, Minka." Sharon's use of the others' nickname amplified the seriousness of it all.
The men in the room didn’t know it, but she, Minka, was the only one who knew who the Powerbroker really was. And you could say she was somewhat of a bodyguard for them.
“The Powerbroker requested it. End of, so get over it.” Sharon snapped at her.
“I can’t believe you’re helping these people.” Her grip on her gun tightened as she interrogated Sharon. “After everything that happened last time.” Her sentence ended with a scoff, clicking on the safety of her gun. She didn't place it back in her holster just yet though.
“Enough.” Sharon’s remark was a bark. An order. “Whether you like it or not, you’re involved now, you’ve seen the bodies. You’re part of it now.”
Minka just glared at her, mumbling “lucky me” under her breath as her daggers turned to the men again. Her anger only bubbled more when she saw the one with the metal arm, the Winter Soldier, staring right back, something she couldn’t quite pick up on behind his cold eyes.
Many hours and gun fights later, everyone made it Sharon's place alive, much to the acrimony of some of them. Of Minka.
"You have a beautiful place, Miss Carter." Baron was walking around, admiring the art as he made the genuine compliment, but he was being eyed. Sharon's personal guard wasn't about to let him touch, ruin, anything.
"Don't touch anything, and get changed, everyone knows what we're wearing now." The last part was directed at the whole group. "And you look like shit, too." Her nose scrunched as she looked them over. Even her associate was included in the statement.
Sharon watched as her figure retreated to the room she had set up, she was there often enough to warrant her own one, and then directed the men to where they could pick out some clothes and change.
There was a soft thump as her body landed on the bed, and she released a long sigh into the covers.
"Yeah, Sharon, I'm not in the mood." Her voice was mumbled from the bed, but was loud enough to hear the frustration.
"Minka, huh?" That was not the voice of Sharon Carter. Her head snapped up to face the door to her room that she swore she locked.
"You don't get to call me that." If looks could kill, the man in the doorframe would have dropped to the floor in record time.
"Is that not your name, Doll?" Arms folded over his chest, a mix of metal and flesh.
"Is your name The Winter Soldier?" The words were laced with malice as she slid off the bed, moving towards him to push him out of her room, her safe space. "Now if you don't mind getting the fuck away from me."
A heavy boot stopped the door from clicking into place, his metal hand forcing it back open, eyes dark. "No, I don't think I will." He stepped into the room, pushing the door closed behind him. This time it was her that stopped the door from closing, hand gripped tightly on the handle, pulling back.
"You've got some fucking nerve coming here like that." Minka yanked the handle as the soldier pushed the door harder, breaking it clean off. "Coming back into Sharon's life like you aren't the one that fucked it up in the first place." The handle dropped with a loud thud.
For a moment, something flashed through his eyes. Regret? Sadness? Whatever it was lasted a mere second before he regained control.
"So, you're like me?" His gaze dropped to the handle on the ground, taking the opportunity to gaze down her body as he did.
It was all she could do from punching him right then and there. "Absolutely not!" If the venom in her voice wasn't evident before, it definitely was now. "I don't kill innocents."
The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. The soldier staring down darkly at the smaller woman.
"It's Bucky."
Her eyes narrowed. "What?"
"My name, it's Bucky. And you can call me that."
She couldn't hold back the scoff that fell from her lips. "I won't be calling you anything. After all this shit is cleaned up, you'll never see me again."
Bucky's head tilted ever so slightly, his voice soft but dark. "I wouldn't be so sure of that." But before she was able to punch question him, Sharon's voice bellowed through the building.
"Downstairs, now."
The pair ripped their eyes from each other, Minka's falling to the handle on the floor. "I'm telling her you broke that. Now fuck off so I can change." And she shoved him out of the room, closing the door over between them, making sure to not close it the whole say so she could actually get out when she was ready.
By the time she had finished getting ready and made her way down to everyone else, people had begun meandering in, admiring the art.
"Took you long enough." Sharon walked up behind her, whispering harshly in her ear.
"Yeah, well you can thank your old friend for that. He's an asshole, by the way." "And he's not a friend." "Well he's the reason I need a drink." She turned to face Sharon, giving her a look of 'I hate you for dragging me into this' before heading to the bar, fully intending on double parking it the whole night.
It didn't take long for her to finally loosen up again, 5 drinks to be exact, and be back in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by sweaty bodies. It may have been an art auction, but nothing was ever not a party in Madripoor, especially if it was organised by the Powerbroker themself.
Minka was so caught up in the moment that she had forgotten entirely about the events of the day, the people of the day.
She had, yet again, lost track of the number of drinks she'd had. But every drink handed her way was downed immediately, not taking any time to register where, or more like who, they were coming from. That was always her greatest weakness, denying alcohol.
She was happily about to take yet another unknown drink being handed to her, when it was snatched from her reach and discarded on a nearby table.
"Hey, what the fuck, that was mine!" She growled, turning with her fist ready to launch into whoever had the nerve to steal her drink.
"Stop taking drinks from strangers, are you an idiot?" Suddenly the memories of the men she had to deal with throughout the day came flooding back. "You're gonna get spiked- in fact, you were about to with that one."
"What? Have you been keeping an eye on me? That's not very Winter Soldier of you." Her tone was mocking as she glared up at Bucky, struggling to stand thanks to the combination of copious amounts of alcohol and continuous movement of people around her.
Bucky placed his large hands on her biceps to keep her steady, eyes narrowing at her words. "You really don't know how to be nice to people, do you?"
"You really don't know how to stay the fuck away from people that don't like you, do you?" She retorted immediately, pulling herself from his grip. "I don't need a goddamn babysitter, especially not you. You don't exactly have the best track record with protecting people." Her back was turned to him and stalking off before she even finished her sentence, but she was yanked back in by her forearm.
"Yeah, I don't think so. You're being watched like a hawk by at least 3 men. Who knows how many of them are trying to spike you and get you separated from the crowd." Bucky's eyes were anywhere but hers, scanning the vast room for anything suspicious, clearly on high alert.
"I don't understand why you fucking care?" Bucky's eyes snapped down to hers, alarmed by her intensity.
"Keep your voice down or you're gonna draw attention to us." He hissed at her, lowering his head and pulling her arm to move her closer to him.
"Good, maybe security will see you're harassing me and escort you out." She snarled, anger rising with every word he spoke. "I'm just looking for a good fucking night and you've managed to ruin it twice now."
"Well take it up with Sharon then, she's the one that told me to keep an eye on you. So clearly she thinks you do need a babysitter." He dropped her arm, that would be enough to keep her in her spot for now.
"You're lying." Her words were barely above a whisper, eyes narrowed at him. "She knows I can hold my own. She's literally hired me for personal protection before."
"Clearly not this time." Bucky's eyes were back to scanning the room. "Not with the types of people here tonight." Minka couldn't help but scoff.
"Oh, because you know Madripoor, right? You've spent how many years here? Oh, that's right, none." She suddenly saw her opportunity to escape, Bucky's eyes not trained on her and her arms free.
"Tell her, as much as I appreciate it, she can shove it." And with that she had weaved her way though the crowd of bodies.
But her abandonment didn't last nearly as long as she had hoped.
All of a sudden she was being pushed against the far wall of the room where she was escaping to, breath knocked out of her.
"What the fu-" Lips landing on hers cut off her protests. Her eyes widened when she realised who said lips belonged to.
"Get off of me!" She spat when she was finally able to push Bucky off. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"People are following you. If they know you're with me they're less likely to try something."
"I'm not with you. In fact, I want to be as far away from you as physically possible right now." Bucky's arms, which were trapping her in by pressing against the wall either side of her face, fell to his side. His face turned emotionless for a moment before returning to his usual arrogant demeanour.
"You can't tell me you didn't feel the spark." He winked, a cocky grin plastered on his face when he saw the heat creep to her cheeks.
"Please, you wish there was a spark." Her eyes rolled as she paused. "I've had knife fights with more spark than that."
"Maybe we should have a knife fight sometime then." Bucky's response was quick, and smooth.
"Have you forgotten that you're never going to see me again after all this shit? Although," Minka tapped her chin in mock thought. "If you're offering to let me stab you, I'll gladly take you up on that." Unlike Bucky's, her face held no semblance of humour.
"I'm sure you'll change your mind by the end of it." Bucky eyed her suggestively.
"God, please don't tell me you're into me. Maybe I do want those supposed guys to take me, seems better than the alternative." She groaned at the thought of having to deal with him fawning after her.
Bucky's face indicated that that was definitely not he case. His eyes, however, suggested her words had hurt him a little. "God, never. But if you really want, I can hand deliver you to them myself." He pointed in the direction of said men.
Her nose crinkled. "Okay, maybe not them."
"Yeah, that's what I thought."
"Sharon, we have a serious problem!" Minka stormed into the kitchen after the last few people had left and the party was over, Bucky not far behind her. "So I need a babysitter now? I thought I was the personal protection around here." Her fist collided heavily with the table.
"You are," Sharon looked at her nonchalantly as she poured herself a glass of whiskey. "Until alcohol is involved. You're as useless as that new Captain America when there's booze around." A sip. "Case in point." Sharon hummed, watching your eyes follow her glass from bench, to mouth, to bench again.
"Oh please." She snorted. "And you thought pairing me with this idiot was a good idea?" He hand gestured back to Bucky at idiot, not caring if it offended him. "He just makes me want to drink more."
Sharon was about to give her a look, but Minka just shook her head, throwing her hands up. "No, I'm not dealing with this tonight. I'm going to bed." "Take him with you." Sharon nodded towards Bucky.
"Oh fuck no, why the fuck would I-" "Because everyone knows you're involved, and your head is on a spike now, too. They want you dead, Minka." She couldn't argue with Sharon when she used her nickname for her. And the pain in her voice was evident.
"Fine, but you're sleeping on the floor." Bucky just shrugged, "nothing new."
"You sleep there." A finger pointed to the sofa on the far side of the room. Conveniently away from the bed. "I'll get you a blanket."
Bucky's brow quirked. "I thought I was on the floor?" He feigned confusion, head tilting to the side before his cocky smirk returned.
"Keep going and you will be." The blanket was thrown at his face, along with a pillow.
"A pillow too? Wow, it's like a 5 star hotel." She just glared.
"If you snore, you're out. If you sleep talk, you're out. You make any sort of noise and you're out. Capisce?"
"Guess it's a good thing I don't sleep then, huh?" Bucky threw the blanket and pillow onto the sofa.
"Now see, that just makes it weird. Like that scene from Twilight." "Well, yeah, when you put it like that it is." His face screwed up at the thought, recalling the scene.
"How do you- Actually no, I'm tired and I don't care." She had been about to ask how he understood the reference, but decided that was going to open a whole can of worms that she didn't care about.
"I may be over 100, but I have seen Twilight. Wanda made me watch it with her." He didn't need to be a mind reader to know what she was about to ask. And he didn't blame her, it probably would be surprising that a 106 year old had seen Twilight.
"Don't worry, Doll, I won't stare. Much." And now it was her turn to scrunch her face up.
"If you fucking touch me, I'll rip that metal arm from your body and shove it so far up your ass." Her sentence trailed off, however, when Bucky stepped closer to her, his gaze intense as he looked down at her.
"And how do you think I would touch you?" Another step closer, making her step back and gulp.
With her mouth agape, Minka was lost for words, probably for the first time in her life. Sharon unknowingly came to her rescue, though, when she knocked on the door while entering.
"Set your alarm for 6," Her eyes narrowed at them both and the distance, or lack there of, between them. "We've gotta be out of here asap tomorrow. Make sure you get enough sleep." "Will do, Sharon." Minka's gaze flicked to her, nodding once before she left the room, confusion plastered on her features.
"Right, well that's bed time then." Her tongue ran over her lips nervously, and she was painfully aware of Bucky's eyes watching. "I'm going to get changed." She turned and basically ran to the bathroom attached to her room.
"I'll be out here waitin'." "You're disgusting, don't think anything." "Wouldn't dream of it, doll."
#ya'll this gif makes me feel things#also i suck at knowing when to end & start paragraphs i'm sorry#bucky barnes#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x reader#sebastian stan#sebastian stan oneshot#sebastian stan imagine#sebastian stan x reader#marvel#marvel oneshot#marvel imagine#marvel x reader#avengers#avengers oneshot#avengers imagine#avengers x reader
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Hello my love can i please request that you follow up on this lovely work of art you deposited in my ask box? Ty ty
oh oh oh what is this? the lovely carter (and val- in spirit) dropping in my inbox and requesting for me (???????) to write,,,,,,,,,,, I’m honored and will happily accept.
I am so so so so so sorry this took me so long to write,, it’s been sitting in my drafts for weeks,,,, I hope this makes up for it 🥺 I tweaked it a bit and I think it works,,, better now ? hopefully !!
warnings: this is smutty, SLIGHT voyerism, dubcon turned to con, p♥︎rn with like.. a dash of plot ? maybe ?, fem! reader, thigh riding, uh riding dick right after, LIGHT MENTIONS of fwb! Osamu,, ah ha haa — NO INCEST.
Dinners with the Miyas: a weekly tradition since... before you could remember. Once a week, you and your family would gather at the Miya’s house for a homemade feast.
In hindsight, it was a really nice way for two life-long best friends, both of your guys’ moms, and their loved ones to get together and catch up after a busy week- but as a girl dealing with a pair of twins a year older than herself, it was absolute hell.
At first, you used to despise having to get properly dressed just to eat dinner with your family friends. All that effort and for what? You see them all the time at school already, what’s so special about coming together for dinner once a week? And honestly, you were just going to get dirtied up anyways. Their beautiful blooming garden was calling your name and who were you to deny it?
You’d often find yourself frolicking among the tall blades of grass and colorful flowers, the wind swaying the plants to and fro. It was so calming to sit and watch the bees buzz around and pollinate. Needless to say, this is the boys’ cue to come into the picture; they always ruined your fun. The twins started growing into... boys, meaning they were an absolute nuisance.
It all started on a gloomy day; it had rained a few hours prior to the meetup and the Miya’s garden was- of course- muddy, but you just couldn’t resist. You tried to be as careful as you could, especially after the continuous complaints from your mother about how dirty you were when you showed up to the dinner table, but somebody decided to sabotage that.
A cold, wet slab of goop slapped you square in the face. With eyes growing wide, you turned to the culprit. An obnoxious laugh left Atsumu Miya’s mouth and in the same breath managed to call you ugly. You didn’t know what to do besides look down; you felt tears prick your lash line and you didn’t want that bully of a boy to see you cry. When you lifted your gaze to find the back door to run to, you paused upon seeing more mud flying through the air- only it wasn’t at you this time. It’s target was Atsumu- the launcher, Osamu. Finishing the embarrassing blow, the twin pointedly said the same phrase that was spat at you, before turning to you and apologizing for his idiot brother’s actions. Needless to say, after that Osamu Miya became your knight in shining armor.
As the years pass, they started to come over to your house more. When the boys were in your room, they (mainly the more wide-eyed, now blonde-haired, insatiably curious one) poked and prodded where their gazes didn’t belong. Osamu always tried his hardest to reil his brother in, attempting to put things back and apologizing every once in a while.it was painfully easy to realize that your perspective about him about him shifted; The politeness. The calm. The sensibility. He was kind and considerate. Your view on Osamu began to change into something of want, and oddly enough, it wasn’t pure.
You and osamu grew closer in ways you weren’t expecting; he was your first sexual everything. First kiss, first touch, first fuck- and with every intimate moment you both shared, the level of respect and maturity was extremely high. There was only one issue, whatever one miya wanted, the other wanted it just as bad.
Atsumu’s gaze on you lasted longer and longer, his tricks were getting more and more perverse- anything he could do to cause a little mischief and ripen the sexual tension he began to build between the two of you. But even the kiddie wrestling matches, flipping up your skirt, and lingering touches became boring; none of his little teases seemed to satisfy him anymore.
He was jealous. He had to be. Osamu never boasted, much less muttered a single word about what you two did when you were alone but Atsumu wasn’t dumb. He knew one of the Miya’s were getting their dick wet and it certainly wasn’t him. He was becoming impatient, but to you, he seemed really on edge- so much so, that one night you found yourself in one of the most compromising positions with the honey-haired idiot.
The three of you were chatting about the twins’ most recent volleyball match in your room, waiting for your moms’ wine induced giggles to subside and finnish the food already.
With lit up eyes, Atsumu was boasting about how they’d achieved their first quick when Osamu pardoned himself so he could use the restroom.
“AWHH ‘SAMU, YOURE GONNA MISS THE BEST PART.” Tsumu loudly whined.
“i was there, idiot. just keep telling her the story, i’ll be back.” he rolled his eyes before leaving the room.
He sucked his teeth before turning to you to continue the story only to find your eyes glued to find Osamu’s fleeting figure. You looked almost dazed out and Atsumu couldn’t believe it. Right in front of his eyes, you were eye-fucking his twin brother instead of listening to him.
Absolutely not.
Part of you should not be surprised. You looked away for just a few seconds- just enough for Atsumu to be annoyed that the attention wasn’t on him. Now you found yourself pinned to the floor, both wrists in one of his big hands, the other holding your hips down. You let out a squeal as you tried squirming out of his grasp.... that was until his knee firmly placed itself against your crotch in just the right place. You swear up and down that you didn’t mean to but there was a surprised gasp that shouldn’t have left your mouth. It almost sounded like... the thought stilled your body.
atsumu took note of this.
In a low murmur, he leaned incredibly close and whispered, “how’s that pretty pussy of yers feelin right now?”
It sent a violent pink tinge to your cheeks and a bolt of arousal down your spine, your slick spreading against your underwear and the top of his jeanclad knee. A clench of your thighs meant this was going exactly where he wanted it to- his wait was over.
“ ‘m waiting for an answer, princess.” he tutted, his face only getting closer to yours while he applied more pressure against your throbbing vulva.
It was never like this with ‘samu. This... was almost exciting for you. Something teetering the lines of flavorful and troublesome. The little voice in your head was screaming at you but the aching desire in your pussy was louder.
“Ah!- atsumu! what are you doing?” you whimper, trying to hide your face. There were so many thoughts racing through your mind, the logical part of you wanted to hear them all out but in the moment you were so overwhelmed. There needed to be control in such a situation; You tried to shift around to loosen his grip, accidentally applying pressure that was welcoming it the most, causing a breathy moan to escape your lips and your eyes to clamp shut.
“mmm well, you’re so focused on my brother, i thought i’d show you what you were missin if you started payin more attention to me.” You could hear the smirk in his voice and you whine. This position was so compromising.
He trailed the hand that weighed down your waist up the curves of your side and took your jaw in his hand. He turned your face and when you peeked open your eyes, your gaze was met with his.
“I want you to cum on my thigh.”
Eyes wide, you tried shaking your head to no avail. His grip was so strong. “Atsumu no!! Osamu’s gonna get back and dinner is gonna be done soon and just- no!” You squeal.
“Y’still have time,” he said calmly, “ ‘samu’s probably checkin on dinner... so yeh better start... or else. Y’know what? I could just continue this though dinner. Slide my hand up ye’thigh under the table...” he started, letting go of your face and ghosting his hand down your body. The thought of his big hands palming over your clit while a finger is dipped into your warm pool flashed in your mind. You clenched, and boy, he felt it.
“Mmm, did my pretty girl think about my fingers- fingers that could reach places yours can’t?” He grinned as he watched you follow his hand with your eyes. “maybe you’d like it if i play with your clit under the table, hm? right next to my brother-”
“no no! here. right now.” is all you could manage to get out. your head was swimming with all that could happen, it only got hazier when you felt the pressure on your cunt lessen- you wanted it back. “Ts-sumu.. i..”
“i know, i know... but first i want you to cum on my thigh if you want my fingers that badly. I want you whiny and desperate, rubbing that pretty cunt all over me. Moaning my name.”
That’s how you found yourself stuffed in your small closet, you desk chair pulled away from its rightful place,
With his throbbing cock fighting against the cage of his pants and heavy pants leaving his lips, his hands could only find relief on your waist- assisting you in your delishious movements.
His noises weren’t the only ones to be heard, you were trying so hard to contain them but nothing is coming of it. Short little high pitched whines rung in Atsumu s ears- but what really got him were the whimpers of “fuck tsumi,” when the angle hit your clit just right and the squeeze of his biceps as you threw your head back. As soon as he experienced that, he needed you to cum right then and there. And not on his thigh.
“Nope- fuck, we’re switching it up,” he mumbled as he stopped your hips from grinding down. Your mind was a mess but all you could think about in your extremely aroused state was that you needed to cum.
“Atsumu wh-“ before you could even finish your question, he unzipped his pants and uncovered himself from his boxers, his angry cockhead slapping his torso and smearing pre-cum on his skin.
“On- now, Princess.”
There was no need for protests; he was expecting one to come out but instead he felt your soft hands lightly grip his bulging head and give a few strokes before all he heard in that cramped, dark closet was, “you’re so .. big.”
Eyes wide, a garbled moan left his mouth and next thing he knew, you were repositioning till his tip lined with your sopping entrance. He couldn’t take it, he thrusted upward as you sunk down. A shocked moan ripped out of both of you and in the moment of silence that followed afterwards, you could hear the floorboard creek.
Apparently Atsumu did too because his actions stopped and one of his hands left your hips to presumably cover your mouth. You presumed wrong.
Your closet door slid open to reveal a wide eyed Osamu palming himself.
#she dreams !#thank you carter!!!#miya atsumu#osamu miya#miya osamu#atsumu miya#haikyuu atsumu#haikyū!!#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x y/n#haikyū!! x reader#hq#hq smut#haikyuu smut#miya osamu x reader#miya osamu smut#osamu#hq osamu#osamu smut#atsumu#atsumu smut#atsumu hq#why yes I did leave this as a cliffhanger#Tf are you gonna do about it <3
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hey, lovies! i’ve been so excited to post this fic because i am in love with Harry and Jules and i hope you will be too (and excuse the lousy banner i just wanted to have something lol)! this is a part of @1dffchallenges’s valentine’s day challenge, so i hope you enjoy reading it and happy valentine’s day, it’s all about spreading love around so here is some love from me to all of you ❤️
a special thank you to @fireproofrry @bodejacketharry @strawberryystyles for beta reading and giving feedback, you are absolute angels <3
word count: 7.7k
warnings: none!
challenge prompt and dialogue: strangers alone on valentine’s day + “I’m allergic to chocolate. And roses.”
It’s official, valentine’s day is the worst.
At least that’s what Jules thought as she adjusted herself on the bar stool, trying to get into a comfortable position while she waited for her drink to be served.
It wasn’t in Jules’ agenda to spend what was supposed to be the most romantic day of the year alone at a bar ten minutes away from her apartment. If she was still with Leon, they would have been having a nice dinner somewhere, laughing over whatever funny story one of them had to share about their day at the company.
But alas, Leon was someone else’s now and Jules was only left with her own company.
Truth be told, though, Jules never minded being alone, in fact, she enjoyed being by herself because people were simply exhausting.
But being alone and being lonely were too completely different things, and Jules hated feeling lonely.
And valentine’s day only made that worse. Seeing loved up couples around her, flashes of red and pink everywhere she glanced, hearing cheesy love songs blasting through the speakers of the shops she passed by. Everything about valentine’s day just seemed to remind her of her lonely status.
Instead of staying at her apartment all night long doing nothing but watching rom coms and feeling sorry for herself, Jules thought of a better alternative, which was to get pissed drunk. So when she got up in the morning to go to work (because even on valentine’s day duty calls), she put on her favourite black dress, one that was sleeveless and had a deep v-neckline, and put on enough makeup to feel confident in the way she looked before pulling on her coat and venturing into the cold streets of London.
If she was going to get pathetically drunk by herself at a bar after work whilst everyone else was being all lovey dovey, then she would look hot doing it.
The sound of a glass coming in contact with the wooden surface broke her out of her reverie and she glanced up, finding that the bartender had placed her drink in front of her and he was beaming at her. “There you go, love, happy valentine’s day.”
After squinting at the name tag (she’s never seen him here before, he must be new), Jules forced herself to return his smile and lifted her glass. “Cheers, Jonah.”
Poor guy must have thought she was waiting for a date or something. Too bad, no one was going to be joining Jules on this fine evening. Just me, myself, and I.
Setting her glass back on the counter after taking a big gulp, Jules scowled as she was reminded of the items she had received earlier in the day. For some reason, Leon thought it was a good idea to give her a box of chocolates and a rose, even though they were no longer together and he had another woman by his side.
She appreciated the thought behind it, he probably just wanted to be nice or maybe he felt guilty, but his gift was staring at her, almost laughing at her misery and she wasn’t having it.
That is why she instantly asked Jonah for a fork, which caused him to send her a confused look but he complied nonetheless, and she proceeded to stab the pieces of chocolate placed perfectly in the box, taking out her frustration on the sweets.
Once satisfied, she dropped the fork with a clunk and heaved out a sigh, lazily resting her chin in her right hand before looking back at Jonah. He was staring at her with wide eyes as he dried off some shot glasses, surely thinking that she was a lunatic, but Jules just flashed him a sweet smile and shifted her eyes back to the chocolates she had just assaulted.
Poor chocolate, but oh well.
“Are you alright there?”
“What the fuc-“ The sudden voice caused her to jump in her seat and she almost fell off the bar stool if it weren’t for the hand that magically materialised behind her, holding her steady.
Before she had a chance to slap the hand off her back, the stranger retracted it and returned to his seat and she had the chance to take a proper look at him.
The man stared back at her with concerned eyes, a stool separating the two of them, but he was still not that far away from her. Jules wondered when he had gotten there because she certainly didn’t feel him arrive. Perhaps it was during her chocolate rampage.
What really surprised her though, more than his sudden appearance, was the fact that she knew who he was. In fact, she believed everyone knew the man sitting beside her because it was none other than Harry Styles.
Many questions ran through Jules’ head, the most important being what on earth was a guy like him doing at this bar on valentine’s day? Jules never believed in the image the media painted of him, but surely he has something better to do than be here, all by himself it seems?
As big of a fan as she was, the fact that he was right before her didn’t faze Jules all that much, her mind was more preoccupied by other matters. So, she ended up doing what she would’ve done if it was any other person: she glared at him and wordlessly turned back in her seat, pretending as if he wasn’t there.
He didn’t seem to take the hint.
“You were quite aggressive with the chocolate there.” His deep voice floated in the empty bar as he pointed at the box in front of her.
Jules inhaled deeply before responding in a flat tone. “I’m allergic to chocolate.” Glaring at the single rose lying beside the box, she grabbed it and tossed it on the floor beneath her, silently cursing Leon once more. “And roses.”
She felt guilty for littering, but she’d pick it up when she leaves. Eventually.
“Are you really?” The man beside her questioned, leaning forward in his seat, his body completely turned towards her at this point. She could tell from her tone that he was skeptical of her supposed allergies and she honestly couldn’t blame him.
“No,” she found herself shaking her head, signalling for Jonah to get her another drink, still keeping her body facing forward and only glancing at him from her peripheral vision, “I’m just fucking with you.”
To her surprise, he let out a small laugh, not seeming to be upset. Jules couldn’t help but turn her head a bit to look at him, finding a dimpled smile on his and she wondered what was wrong with this guy.
“May I ask why you were stabbing the poor sweets then?”
Figuring she should just put him out of his misery and answer his question, Jules huffed and crossed her legs, not missing the way his gaze flickered down for a split second before returning to her face. She ignored it and sighed, “Well if you must know, my ex gave them to me this morning.”
“Trying to get you to take him back?”
“Oh god no,” Jules laughed at the notion, her hand waving off his wrong assumption, “he’s as happy as can be with his new girlfriend.”
The blatant confusion on his face prompted her to provide more explanation.
“We broke up a couple of months ago, he left me for someone else. So he probably just felt guilty.”
“He left you for someone else? And before the holidays?” When she nodded in confirmation, he shook his head with a frown. “Bastard.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Valentine’s day just sucks, it’s just a reminder of how lonely you are,” she muttered with bitterness, “Of how lonely I am.”
“Well if it’s any consolation,” Harry said, pausing to ask the bartender for another drink, “I’m lonely tonight too.”
“Well, obviously, otherwise you wouldn’t be here getting drunk on your own.” With a few drinks already in her system, Jules practically had no filter whatsoever (not that she really had one in the first place).
“Touché,” he clicked his tongue, then leaned back to chug down the rest of his glass. Jules was almost concerned by how quickly he downed his drink, but she’s not in a position to talk, after all, she’d been doing the same. “But I’m not getting drunk on my own now, am I? You’re right here.”
She scoffed, eyebrows raising at his words. “Who said I’m keeping you company? Or that I’m not leaving any second now?”
“I don’t think you are.” He responded with much conviction that it almost threw Jules off.
“You think too confidently about a stranger you just met.”
“Let’s fix the strangers part then, shall we? I’m Harry.” He extended his ring-clad hand and Jules noticed a coat of red nail polish on his fingers. How ironic.
She sighed before deciding to entertain him, grabbing a firm hold of his surprisingly warm hand. Maybe she’ll allow him to keep her company tonight. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to leave her alone anyway.
“Jules.” She simply responded before turning back to her drink, swirling the pink straw around. She made a mental note to thank Jonah later for the cute straw.
“Jules” Harry repeated, as if testing the name on his lips and Jules would be lying if she said that she didn’t like the way it rolled off his tongue. “Is that a nickname for Julie? Julia? Short for Juliann-“
“Juliet. It’s Juliet.” She interrupted his ridiculous ramble. He surely was inquisitive. And did she really look like a Julianne?
“Huh,” he hummed, gliding a finger over the rim of his glass, staying silent for a few seconds and Jules thought he was maybe done for the night.
She thought wrong, it seems.
“Oh, Juliet, oh, Juliet, where art thou, Juliet?” He dramatically recited, voice going deeper as he stared upwards at a spot over the bar. Simply put, Jules thought he looked ridiculous.
She could hear Jonah snickering in the background.
“It’s where art thou, Romeo, but nice try.” She rolled her eyes in response to his theatrics. Almost everyone she’s ever encountered has commented on her name and made a reference to the infamous Shakespearean tragedy that she’s never been too fond of. It’s why she mostly went by Jules.
No one’s ever recited that line though, however wrong it was. That was a first.
“I knew that,” the curly-haired man mumbled beside her, swirling his glass and watching the ice cubes swim around, “was just joking, geez, tough crowd.”
Jules couldn’t help but roll her eyes again in response. That joke got old a long time ago.
She’s beginning to regret coming to this bar tonight. Maybe she should’ve just headed straight home and cuddled into her blankets.
“It’s pretty, though,” he added a few moments later, “beautiful name for a beautiful woman”
No way. She huffed, spinning in her seat to face him once again. “That’s your line? Tell me, Mr. Rockstar, has that really worked on anyone before?”
She could tell he was a bit surprised but tried to hide it; unluckily for him, Jules was a very observant person, hardly anything passed her.
“I-I didn’t mean it like that-“
She interrupted him again and leaned in closer, resting her elbow on the countertop and raised an eyebrow. His eyes flickered for a fleeting second to the charm bracelet adorning her wrist. “So you don’t think my name’s beautiful? Or that I’m beautiful? Sheesh, Harry, you’re not looking good here.”
Harry spluttered, staring at her with eyes blown wide in panic and Jules almost felt bad for messing with him; it was just hard not to, she was lonely and he was right there annoying her with his lousy jokes, so he has the unfortunate fate of being her victim tonight (and truthfully, he brought it on himself). And if she was being honest, messing with Harry Styles was just too entertaining of an opportunity for her to pass on.
To be fair, she was a little annoyed by his presence in the beginning, having originally planned to wallow in her misery all by herself, but now she’s having fun. She might just enjoy her time with him.
“No- no of course I think you’re beautiful, y-your name too,” he responded in clear panic, seemingly trying to figure out how he can redeem himself. Jules’ attention was momentarily caught by the way his rings glimmered under the light as he flexed his fingers, still fumbling for a response. “I was just-“
“Styles,” she interrupted him, yet again, with a light-hearted laugh and shook her head, hair falling forward on her shoulders, “Relax, was just messing with you.”
His shoulders visibly relaxed and he heaved out a sigh of relief; his eyes then narrowed and he lifted his hand, pointer finger wagging in her direction. “You really like messing with people, huh? Not very nice of you.”
“Made you sweat, no? Was just having fun. I can now say that I’ve made the infamous Harry Styles stumble over his words. How much do you think they’ll pay me for that hot gossip? Reckon it would be a lot.” She said as she turned back in her seat, now facing the bar once again, but she knew he caught the smirk on her face and the teasing lilt in her tone.
Coming to the bar was definitely a good decision.
Harry felt like a proper idiot.
Here he was, sitting at a pub with a lovely woman that clearly didn’t want to be bothered, yet he had to fuck things up and be a git.
And the Juliet bit? Harry had never been more embarrassed, he didn’t know what he was thinking, or if he was thinking at all. He made sure to remind himself that he wasn’t that funny and should just stop trying to be. You’re making a fucking fool of yourself.
In spite of his rather embarrassing advances, Harry found himself enjoying Jules’ company immensely, even if she had barely looked his way when he had arrived at his spot.
She might’ve looked irritated by his insistent attempts to start a conversation with her in the beginning, but from the way her body has been facing him for the past half an hour and the smile or two she’d thrown his way, Harry had a feeling she was warming up to him.
He discovered that she was an accountant, which thoroughly surprised him because she didn’t seem like one. Harry doesn’t like to judge a book by its cover, but Jules definitely didn’t scream accountant, more like a Greek goddess or something. Her black dress hugged her body in a way that almost made Harry dizzy; he had noticed her the second he walked into the nearly empty pub – and before he could even think about it, he found his legs carrying him in her direction (he was already headed to the bar anyway, or so he told himself).
Admittedly, the way she was stabbing the chocolates had him fearing for his life for a split second, but Harry brushed it off and figured she just wasn’t a fan of valentine’s day, if her apparent disdain for the sweets and the rose before her was any indication.
He was also surprised to learn that she’d moved here from America about five years ago and this pub was one she often frequented, yet Harry had never run into her somehow despite coming here a lot and living not too far himself.
He’s glad their paths have finally crossed tonight, though.
That being said, Jules was definitely keeping him on his toes. He never knew what she was going to say next, and she certainly did not hold back from saying exactly what was on her mind.
Harry found himself liking that about her, even if her forwardness came at his expense sometimes (he couldn’t say he didn’t deserve it). Oftentimes, people acted cautious around him and treated him differently just because of his status. Not Jules, though.
But now he could tell that she had something on her mind, from the way she looked at him then shifted her eyes elsewhere a second later.
“What is it?” He questioned, deciding to put her out of her fidgety state. He wasn’t sure what was holding her back, she certainly had no problem handing his ass to him earlier.
“It’s just,” she started, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, the movement catching Harry attention for a second before he reminded himself to be respectful, “what are you doing here by yourself tonight? I find it hard to believe that someone like you doesn’t have anyone to hang around on a day like this.”
Someone like him? Harry furrowed his eyebrows, not sure what she was implying with her words but he didn’t believe she meant it in a negative manner necessarily.
“That came out wrong, I didn’t mean anything like that,” she quickly defended, face becoming redder by the second and Harry was a little endeared by the sight. The woman before him was confident all throughout their conversation, having no fear in expressing her thoughts, yet now she was the flustered one. And Harry couldn’t help but enjoy it.
Time to give her a taste of her own medicine.
“What, thought someone like me had a flock of women at their beck and call and that I’d be off with one or some of them tonight?”
He gave her a blank look afterwards, pretending that he found offence in her words and he almost blew his cover at the way her face visibly fell.
“N-no!” she exclaimed, voice rising a few octaves and Harry could see the bartender, Jonah, suddenly flinch behind her from the sound. He pressed his lips together to silence the chuckle that threatened to escape and continued to stare Jules down.
“Of course I didn’t mean it like that,” she added in a much calmer tone, though Harry could detect that panic lacing her voice and he was starting to feel guilty. “I never believed that you were like that, I just,” she paused, averting her gaze away and staring at the lights above them instead, “never mind, just ignore me.”
Harry figured that she already knew of who he was and his status, and despite having just met her, the fact that she just said she doesn’t believe the rumours about him filled him with inexplicable warmth and he had to remind himself again that he’d only just met this woman. He shouldn’t feel anything of the sort towards her.
He could tell by the way her eyebrows were furrowed that she felt bad about what she’d said, so Harry called out her name and waited for her to look at him again.
When she did, her face holding an apprehensive look, he smiled at her and leaned a bit closer, which made little difference because there was still some space separating them.
“I was just messing with you, Jules,” he reached forward and flicked her nose, causing her to instinctively scrunch her face in a cute manner that had Harry’s stomach fluttering. “Doesn’t feel that nice now, does it?”
Jules chuckled in disbelief, wide eyes staring back at him and a smile was slowly stretching on her lips. “Touché. I see how it is then.”
Harry just shrugged, his own lips twitching as another smile threatened to appear. “Just having some fun, eh?”
Jules was now beaming at him and if Harry was standing, he was certain that his knees would’ve buckled at the sight. He already knew that Jules was gorgeous, and he was sure anyone would agree with him, but when as she smiled at him like that, eyes shining bright under the warm orange lights, brown hair cascading loosely yet somehow perfectly on her shoulders, there was no doubt in Harry’s mind that there was an angel sitting before him.
“Truce then?”
Her voice brought him back to earth and Harry chuckled before he shook her outstretched hand, marvelling for a moment at the way it felt enveloped in his. “Truce.”
“But to answer your question,” Harry said after a few beats of silence, glancing at her to find her eyes already set on him. “I didn’t have anything planned, haven’t been on many dates recently to be honest, so I just figured I’d come here and spend time with my good friend,” he lifted his drink with a wide grin on his face, “alcohol, the one thing that never let me down.”
Jules threw her head back in a laugh, the sound being music to Harry’s ears and he wished he could record it just to hear it again and again. “Amen to that.”
The two clinked their glasses together, laughing stupidly for no reason, before they threw their heads back to drink.
“Another round, then?”
Jonah suddenly appeared in front of them, startling Harry a bit. Sometimes he forgot that the man was lingering around behind the bar.
Jules took the liberty to respond for the both of them, exclaiming a “hell yeah, buddy!” that had the two men laughing, and soon enough their glasses were refilled.
After taking a sip, Harry leaned his head on the palm of his hand and set his eyes on Jules again, “So, are you a fan? Of me or of the band?”
He had to ask, he couldn’t help but wonder. If she was indeed a fan, she certainly didn’t show it.
Jules shrugged, playing nonchalant it seemed, but it didn’t escape him the way her cheeks seemed to redden. “Eh, I dabble. You’re alright.”
Her response made him chuckle. “Good to know.” Call him a narcissist, but he really wanted to know whether or not she liked his music. Perhaps he’ll inquire further later.
Because Harry knows that there’s no way he’s letting Jules go anytime soon.
Getting to know Harry was fun.
Sometime during the night, Harry had migrated from his seat onto the bar stool beside her, their thighs brushing against each other every now and then.
Tapping his fingers around his glass, Harry’s rings clinked against it and Jules couldn’t help but be slightly captivated by the action. She wasn’t one to stare at anyone’s hands, but she had to admit that Harry’s were fascinating to look at; his long and slender fingers, adorned by a number of his infamous rings, were truly a sight to see.
She took the chance to also admire his outfit, something she was too busy to do earlier on. His coat was long discarded on the stool beside him, which allowed her eyes to run over his figure. His upper body was covered by a plain white t-shirt with the word “Sex” displayed on his chest, a pair of pair of wide-legged black pants covering his long limbs; it was a simple fit yet it made it difficult for Jules to take her eyes off him. And his hair just looked so soft that her fingers were begging her to touch the fallen strands on his forehead.
Hearing Harry clear his throat broke her out of her trance and Jules realised from the smirk that stretched on his lips that she’d been caught in the act.
She tried playing it off, as if she hadn’t been shamelessly checking him out for the last couple of minutes and smoothed her hands down her dress, adjusting in her seat because honestly, her butt was starting to ache.
But she didn’t want to leave just yet.
Seeming to notice her discomfort, however, Harry downed the last bit of his drink before setting his glass down with a smack, causing Jonah, who was still lingering around them, to shoot Harry a warning glance and a low “careful!”, to which Harry smiled sheepishly before turning to face her again.
“Want to get out of here?”
Jules’ eyebrows shot upwards in surprise, having not expected him to want to continue spending the night with her.
“Sure there’s nothing else you’d rather be doing?” She couldn’t help but question, still struggling to grasp the fact that he still wanted to be around her. Her hands were fidgeting with the hem of her dress, eyes staring into his emerald ones as she waited to hear his response.
Truth be told, she was enjoying his company far much more than she had anticipated and she didn’t want to part from him just yet.
To her relief, a dimpled smile adorned Harry’s face as he took in her words before he shook his head, “Trust me, Jules, there’s no one else I’d rather be with tonight.”
She’d be lying if she said her heart didn’t skip a beat at that.
The two got up from their seats after thanking Jonah and fighting over who’s paying because Harry insisted on paying for her drinks. As she was gathering her things, she felt Harry’s presence behind her and she realised, after looking at him over her shoulders, that he was holding her coat up for her.
Heat rushed into her cheeks at the gesture, finding it sweet that he was helping her when he didn’t really have to. “Thank you,” she whispered, turning to him with a smile after feeling him adjust her hair.
His only response was a faint “No need” and he quickly turned to shrug on his own coat, the bashful smile on his lips not going unnoticed by her.
Flashing Jonah another smile, Harry extended his arm towards her and nodded his head towards the exit. “Shall we?”
“We shall.”
The two stepped into the night, the biting London air hitting Jules’ cheeks immediately and she was positive her nose was already red from the cold.
Jules reached into her pocket to grab her phone, realising that she hasn’t checked the device since she walked into the bar. There weren’t any notifications that she missed, which wasn’t surprising since her friends (all four of them) were out on dates or staying at home with their partners, so she was sure no one was thinking of her at the moment.
Noticing that it was already 8 in the evening and they were aimlessly walking down the street, Jules turned to Harry with a questioning gaze. “Where are we going?”
Leaning his head down to look at her (or perhaps to be closer, Jules wasn’t sure), he paused, seeming to think, before shrugging his shoulders. “Dunno if I’m quite honest.”
Jules found herself chuckling at him. How did her day end with her walking around with no purpose with a man she’d just met?
She looked at the sign closest to them before she turned to him and did something she rarely ever did. She found herself inviting him to her apartment because they were quite close.
A smirk found its way onto Harry’s lips and she started to regret her decision. “Already trying to get me into your bed, Juliet?”
She mentally cursed at the way her heart leaped upon hearing her name roll off his tongue. Almost no one called her Juliet anymore, except for her parents when they were being serious, but she found herself wanting to hear him say her name over and over again.
Shaking her head at the thought, Jules reached her arm out and lightly slapped his shoulder. “Oh come off it, you idiot. You can just go ahead and cry alone in your mansion if you want.”
Harry raised his hands in surrender and muttered an apology, although the smile lingered on his lips and Jules tried to ignore the fluttering feeling in her chest.
“Lead the way, then.”
“Make yourself at home, I’ll get us something to drink.”
The walk to her apartment was full of smiles and laughter. She’s come to the conclusion that Harry loves making people laugh, even if his jokes were actually awful, but she found it endearing; he was like a ray of sunshine bringing joy to those around him.
She was glad that she had cleaned up the place a couple of days ago, it would’ve been embarrassing to have someone over to see pyjamas and junk strewn over her furniture. Suffice to say, Jules was a bit of a mess around the house.
After hanging up her coat and Harry’s, she made her way into her kitchen and looked for the good wine she reserved for special occasions. She easily grabbed it, along with two glasses, but then Jules found herself lingering by the kitchen island.
It dawned on her that there was a man in her living room, and he wasn’t just anyone. This was Harry Styles, someone she’d long admired and holy shit was this really happening?
And as sad as it may sound, she’s never felt this connection with anyone before, never felt like the person before her got her and could keep up with her. Yet with Harry, it felt different, and that scared her because she’d only just met him a couple of hours ago.
And he was bound to forget all about her after tonight. He’s just looking for some company, and Jules didn’t think she was that special. Eventually, he’s going to leave. Just like everyone else.
Feeling like the black marble of the island was starting to swirl in her vision, Jules snapped out of her thoughts and sucked in a deep breath before moving back towards the living room.
Harry had his hands interlocked behind his back, perusing through her record collection and it made her inadvertently smile. She was proud of her vast collection of vinyl records, a good portion of them handed down to her by her father; they both had a deep appreciation for records that her mum often made fun of them for.
“Found anything you like?” He jolted at her voice, not having noticed her presence behind him, but then his shoulders immediately relaxed.
Turning towards her with a wide grin, Harry gestured to the shelf behind him. Jules liked the way he seemed to glow underneath the dim lights and she wished she could take a picture of this moment as a keepsake. “This is amazing, there are records here that I couldn’t even find.”
“You can thank my dad for that,” she told him, making herself comfortable on the couch but not breaking eye contact once, “he’s been collecting them for decades and I’m so glad he let me have some, like you should see his collection back home, it’s even more impressive.”
“Hope I’ll get to someday.”
His response caught her off-guard. Before Jules could react, Harry’s teasing voice carried through the room.
“You dabble, you said?” He smirked, turning the Fine Line record in hand to show her and also nodding to the space that held One Direction records. Jules groaned out loud and flopped against the back of the couch.
“A little yeah. Sue me.”
She blushed under his amused gaze, a little embarrassed that he’d found her collection of the band’s records and his own solo music.
“It’s okay,” he assured her, dimples adorning his cheeks, “think it’s cute that you’re a big fan.”
“Don’t know why that makes me cute but okay if you say so.” She mumbled under her breath, realising that he heard her when he chuckled.
“Mind if I put on something then?”
Jules shook her head, signalling for him to go ahead while she poured their drinks. Soon afterwards Stevie Nicks’ voice filled the silence and her lips tugged up at the choice.
The couch dipped beside her when Harry sat down, the scent of his cologne invading her senses. Jules doesn’t think anyone has ever smelled as good as him, but she chose to keep that thought to herself and instead handed him his drink.
A few moments of silence passed after he quietly thanked her, Stevie’s voice the only thing that can be heard.
“So,” he started, throwing an arm on the back of the couch, a shit-eating grin on his handsome face, “would I find any 1D posters if I went into your room?”
“Oh fuck you.” She threw one of the cushions at him, smiling at the way he threw his head back in laughter.
Jules did not mind his company at all.
“Hold on a minute,” Harry straightened up from his previously relaxed position on the couch, “you all work together and you see him and his new girlfriend every day?”
“Yup, you can imagine how fun that is.” She loved her job as an accountant, having always been fascinated with numbers, but she hated having to see him every day in the office across from hers.
It’s not like she hated him, they actually ended on good terms, all things considered. Leon wasn’t bad, he never cheated on her, but the feelings between them just died out, a flicker of something that dwindled into nothing. So, they were friendly with each other and that’s probably the reason why he brought her a box of chocolate and a rose.
But Juliet just didn’t like the daily reminder that she was in fact much lonelier than he was; it’s like rubbing salt in the wound.
“Shit, Jules, that must be hard,” he frowns, leaning forward to pat her hand, “I’m sorry you have to go through that.”
“It’s not that serious,” she mumbles, feeling heat rushing to her cheeks at the simple touch and she mentally cursed herself. She had sworn off men for the unforeseeable future. “I’m over him. You know, I actually think I was never really in love with him to begin with.”
“Why’d you think that?” He questions, his thumb still softly caressing her hand; Jules wasn’t sure if he was aware of that or was absentmindedly doing it. Either way, the touch warmed her.
“I think,” she started, setting her glass of wine on the coffee table so she could sink in further into the couch, the move unintentionally bringing her body closer to Harry’s. “I think I was just happy to have someone around, someone to spend time with. I’ve spent a lot of my life alone and I think I just clung onto him because he kept me company.”
A few beats of silence passed before she continued. “That makes me sound horrible, no, it’s not like I used him, I did enjoy his company and we had a lot of fun together, but I think I was just in love with the idea of him, not him.”
Harry nodded his head, leaning back and mirroring her position, “I understand. That’s how I felt in most of my relationships actually. I longed to have someone around so I wouldn’t be lonely, but I’ve learned over the years that having company doesn’t mean that you won’t feel lonely.”
“You sounded pretty heartbroken on your last record though.” If she wasn’t as inebriated as she was, Jules would have probably had some filter and wouldn’t have said that.
Luckily, Harry chuckled in response and relaxed further into the couch, retracting his hand from hers (she instantly missed the warmth), but he didn’t seem upset. “I was. I would say that I was actually falling in love with her, so I was a bit of a mess when she left me.”
His words made her frown. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t know how anyone could leave you.” She muttered under her breath, forgetting that she was usually louder than normal after she’s had a few drinks.
“Could say the same thing about you.”
With her cheeks flushed, Jules forced herself to look him in the eye again. “You don’t even know me.”
“But I’d like to get to know you.” He almost instantly shot back, resting his chin on his hand and his dimples made an appearance, “I think you’re very interesting.”
“Pfft, me? Interesting?” She laughed, waving him off with her hand. “I am anything but.”
“That’s not true!” Harry vehemently denied, sounding almost offended at the thought, which admittedly made Jules’ heart skip a beat. Just a little.
“I’ve spent a few hours with you now and I can already confidently say that you’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met,” his eyes shone bright as she stared into them and she could somehow tell he was being sincere, “and trust me, I’ve met a lot of people.”
Dramatically placing a hand over her heart, Jules flashed him her biggest smile. “Oh how special that makes me feel, I can just die happily now.”
Even though she was being melodramatic, his words did cause Jules’ heart to flutter. In the past, some people told her she was annoying, or brash, and some others would make her feel invisible and undeserving of attention.
Harry, though, was unlike anyone she had ever known. From the moment they met, Harry made her feel like the centre of his attention, never once ignored her or brushed her off, even when she was taking the piss; his emerald eyes were always set on her, giving her his undivided attention as he listened to every word that came out of her mouth.
Jules was definitely not used to that.
Harry threw his head back in laughter, a sound that Jules found to be a beautiful melody, and gazed at her with those bright eyes. “Oh you’re insufferable, I take it back.”
She gasped in feigned shock, crossing her arms with force. “No backsies.”
Another melodic laugh left Harry’s mouth and she couldn’t stop the smile forming on her lips; right then and there, Jules decided that his laugh was one of her favourite sounds.
“Backsies?” He echoed, his tone still laced with laughter, “what are you, five?”
“Shut your pretty mouth.”
“Oh so you think I have a pretty mouth?” His smirk caused his skin to flush and she cursed herself for saying those words. She really needed to think before she spoke, something her parents always reminded her of.
She recovered quickly, bringing her glass closer to her mouth. “I mean, it’s fine, your lips are a little on the thin side but-“
“Heyyy now,” he protested, pink lips forming a pout and Jules definitely thought about kissing them at that moment. “That’s not nice.”
“Never claimed I was nice now, did I?” Jules smirked, feeling a sudden surge of confidence as she took another sip from her drink.
Jules did not miss the way Harry’s eyes seemed to darken just a little, his jaw tensing as she continued to stare him down. Harry leaned forward, mouth opening to respond when suddenly a shrill tone burst their bubble.
Patting the couch cushions, Jules was trying her hardest to forget the look on Harry’s face as she searched for her phone. Stop it, Jules, he’s an international rockstar and he won’t even remember you after tonight.
She sighed in relief when her hand made contact with the device, but that quickly turned into a groan upon seeing who the caller was. Looking back at Harry, who was leaning against the armrest simply staring at her, she shot him an apologetic look before she answered the call.
“Hey, mama” she closed her eyes, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. Not that she was expecting anything to happen between her and Harry, but the mood was definitely ruined now.
“Hello, honey, how are you? Are you home yet?” Her mother’s calming voice sounded from the other side of the line, making her smile a bit despite the interruption. Ever since the breakup, her mom made sure to call her frequently to check up on her, even though Jules insisted that she didn’t have to.
“I am home, mom, yes,” she responded, shifting her gaze back to Harry who was now leaning his head against the back of the sofa with his eyes closed.
“Good, good. Just checking on you, cariña, how was your night then?”
“It was fine,” she paused for a second, not sure if she should mention meeting Harry now, but she decided it was best not to, “had a few drinks then went straight home. Think I’m gonna go to bed in a few actually.”
She could tell by the way Harry’s lips twitched that he was awake and listening.
“I won’t keep you up then,” some noise was in the background and she heard her mother whisper to someone, “okay, honey, good night! And your dad says good night too.”
“Good night, mama,” Jules smiled, finding herself suddenly missing her family that she hasn’t seen since the holiday season. “Tell dad I said good night too, and that he better spoil you today.”
Her mother’s laugh ringed loud on the other side, “We’re going to dinner tonight, cariña, and he even got me a large bouquet of my favourite roses! Joseph shh- Alright then, bye bye, sweets, love you!”
“Bye, mama, love you too.”
A few seconds passed after she ended the call before Harry spoke up, head tilted to the side. “That sounded sweet. Does she check up on you often?”
Jules hummed in response, resting her head sideways on the sofa so was mirroring his position. “Especially after the breakup. She just worries too much about me.”
“I don’t think she needs to,” he shot her a gentle smile, one that made her want to wrap her arms around him and bask in his warmth, “her daughter’s a very strong woman.”
Not finding any words to say in response, Jules continued tracing Harry’s features, lazily admiring the slope of his nose, the curve of his brows, the sharpness of his jawline; everything about the man before her was mesmerising.
Turning her gaze back to his eyes, Harry flashed her another smile before sitting up straight, the smile slowly dropping. “I should probably go now, it’s getting late.”
Jules immediately wanted to shout “no!” and ask him to stay, but the rational part of her mind told her that she shouldn’t, that she would only set herself up for heartbreak when he finally leaves her.
So the only thing she could say was a faint “Okay.”
As they stood up, it seemed like Harry was holding back from saying something, but she didn’t know if she was just reading too much into things. It was probably just her hazy mind (though she’d argue her head has never been clearer)
They silently made their way to her door, Jules feeling deflated at the prospect of his departure. Would they keep in touch? Would she just become a distant memory, a miserable woman he spent a lonely valentine’s day with?
“Can I-“ Harry abruptly stopped in his tracks, causing Jules to almost run into his back because she was trailing behind him. His demeanour was suddenly all shy when he turned to face her, cheeks flushed crimson.
Jules waited with bated breath and wide eyes for him to continue, heart beating loudly in her chest.
“Can I have your number?”
Relief washed over Jules and Harry visibly relaxed at the bashful smile on her lips. Jules didn’t know why he was so nervous, but the sight was so endearing to her.
She added her number after he handed her the device, secretly smiling at her contact name Juliet x. She already earned herself an x after her name after a few hours? Jules’ heart was beating so loudly she feared Harry would hear its calls for him.
Jules watched him put his shoes on, wishing the night wouldn’t end so soon and wondering if it would be too forward to ask him to stay longer.
Deep in her thoughts, Jules didn’t register that Harry was standing in front of her, bodies close enough that the scent of his cologne engulfed her senses once more.
“I should go now.” Harry whispered, leaning down and wrapping his arms around her and Jules had never felt so whole. She’s heard about Harry’s incredible hugs and now that she’s experiencing it, she never wanted to let go of his warmth.
Harry broke their embrace much too soon for her liking, but not before peppering a gentle kiss on the side of her head. “Good night, Juliet.”
Say something. Don’t let him leave. “Good night, H.”
And then he was gone and Jules was left on her own once more.
After staring longingly at the closed door, as if he would suddenly appear behind it, Jules sighed and made her way back to the living room, slumping against the couch cushions and wishing Harry’s arms were around her again.
Her phone dinged on the coffee table, signalling the arrival of a text. A simple “Hey. I really enjoyed tonight. H” was staring back at her.
Jules contemplated for a few seconds, heartbeats picking up their speed again, before she whispered “fuck it” and clicked on his number.
“Juliet?”
Deciding to go after what her heart wants for once, Jules didn’t hesitate to respond, “Do you want to-“
But an insistent knock interrupted her and Jules wanted to scream at the intrusion. Who on earth would be knocking at her door at this hour?
“Harry, hold on just-“
She takes frustrated strides to the door, ready to yell, but the sight behind it made her anger immediately evaporate.
“H-Harry? What are you doin-“
“What were you going to ask me?” He interrupted, sounding a little out of breath and she wondered if he ran all the way back to her apartment.
Feeling emboldened by his return, Jules took a few steps towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck, his hands immediately grabbing her face and pulling her closer, their lips joining together in a gentle yet eager kiss.
Jules felt her body melt in his hold. Their kiss only lasted for a few seconds before they pulled apart, still lingering so close that she could taste his wine-stained lips.
“Stay?” Jules asked, rubbing her nose against his, her heart thudding in her chest as she waited for his answer. Her words carried more weight than she had intended them to and she hoped they wouldn’t scare him off. But her worries vanished when she felt him smile widely against her lips.
“For as long as you’ll have me.”
Maybe valentine’s day isn’t so bad after all.
thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed it and please come talk to me about Harry and Jules and tell me your thoughts!
#1dffvalentine#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles writing#harry styles fluff#harry styles x ofc#harry styles imagines#harry styles fanfic
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