#they have 1 arm now since its easier to place
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why would jupe create this fanchild ? they look like theyre name is butthole
#how to make a tablecloth#they have 1 arm now since its easier to place#osc#burner osc#fanchild#sacristuff#peanut burner#playdoh burner#wowoowowow#thats kinda gay
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Steddie Upside-down AU Part 24
Part 1 Part 23
Will stays on the periphery of the shopping trip, trailing behind Nancy and Jonathan as they drag bear traps, nails, and ammo up to the counter. He imagines the Demogorgon writhing, both feet stuck in the traps, imagines its head blown clean off by Lonnie’s gun, imagines driving a nail straight into its heart like it's a vampire.
He never thought violence could make him feel like this – vindicated. Victorious. Whenever Mike and Dustin snuck horror movies from Family Video, Will always had to turn away from the gore. Even when the person deserved it. Even when it was against a monster.
But the Demogorgon had stolen him, had stolen Eddie, still has Steve in its grasp and he wants it to pay.
The clerk gives them all a suspicious look, Will most of all, before asking, “what’s all this for then?”
Nancy and Jonathan trade looks, like Will isn’t behind them at all, before Nancy replies, “monster hunting.”
Apparently satisfied, the clerk shrugs and tells them the total. It’s more than they usually pay at the grocery store for a whole week’s worth of food. He sees Jonathan cringe, even as he forks it over.
They carry their purchases away, Nancy handing Will the box of nails. He clutches them to his chest as they make their way to where Jonathan’s car is in the parking lot.
“You know, last week, I was shopping for a top I thought Steve might like. It took me and Barb all weekend,” Nancy says, carefully placing the bear traps into the trunk. Will didn’t realize Nancy and Steve were boyfriend and girlfriend, didn’t realize they knew each other at all, past the way everyone in small towns sort of knows of everyone else. “It seemed like life or death, you know? And now–”
“You’re shopping for bear traps with Jonathan Byers,” Jonathan says. He says his own name like it’s a joke. Will doesn’t like it.
“Yeah,” she says, laughing a little as Jonathan haphazardly throws the ammo on top of the rest of their purchases before slamming the trunk closed. “And I don’t know if I even want him to like me like that anymore.”
Will can’t imagine having someone like Steve – nice, cool, an action hero – and not wanting to be liked.
“We got into this fight the night he disappeared,” Nancy continues, laugh coming out sharp and wet this time, all the humor sucked straight out. “And I was so mad, but now I just hope he’s alive.”
Jonathan turns away from Nancy, looks directly at Will, says, “yeah,” with a fervor that makes his cheeks warm.
“He’s alive,” Will says.
No one asks why he’s so sure. Will’s glad. He couldn’t explain it if he tried. Just knows somewhere deep inside that Steve is alive. He’s waiting for them to save him this time.
Barbara’s car is in the driveway when they get home. She’s dawdling on the porch with Eddie and an older man that must be his Uncle Wayne.
Eddie looks both more at ease with his Uncle by his side, and more keyed up than Will’s ever seen him. He’s twitching in his toes, like he’s waiting to take flight; gravity barely keeping him on the surface of the earth.
He settles when Will gets out of the backseat. He feels it like a tug – the need to get back to Eddie’s side is almost an itch on his bones. Eddie meets him halfway, pulling Will beneath the wing of his arm and pulling him in.
Will’s breath comes easier than they had since they separated, like two pieces snapping back into their rightful place.
“Who’s this?” the older man asks gruffly, still standing on the front porch.
Will’s heartbeat stutters at the stern expression, but Eddie just beams, skipping up to him and flourishing his hand grandiosity between the both of them. “Uncle Wayne, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Will Byers. He kicks ass,” he says. “Will, this is my Uncle Wayne. He’s nice, I promise.”
Wayne looks him up and down, eyebrows furrowed before easing, the corners of his mouth ticking up in what must be a smile. “And your other two friends?” he asks.
Eddie points with his free arm. “That Big Byers, Will’s brother,” he says, talking over Jonathan’s quiet, “it’s Jonathan. He points at Nancy, and with much less enthusiasm, finishes, “And that’s Nancy Wheeler.”
Wayne looks between all of them, his eyebrows furrowing like angry caterpillars. “Where are all of your parents?” he asks before turning to Will, “especially yours. If I’m not mistaken, they fished your body out of the water”
Will’s gut churns. He and Eddie trade wide-eyed looks. “I died?” he asks, voice trembling.
“Well, obviously not!” Eddie says, squeezing Will’s shoulder tight enough to twinge. “You’ve been with me the whole time, baby Byers.”
Wayne’s still looking at him, like he’s trying to see through his skin and analyze his skeleton for human parts. “Either way kid, where’s your Mom?” he asks. “Have y’all called Joyce?”
Will shuffles, looking over his shoulder at Jonathan. “She wasn’t here when we got in,” he says, looking down at his scuffed sneakers. “She’s been spending a lot of time with Chief Hopper. Maybe she’s with him?”
Wayne sighs. “Can I use your phone, boy?” He asks the question pointedly toward Will, so Will leads the way to the phone, everyone else trailing behind nervously.
Wayne dials out, lets it ring, before saying. “Hey, Flo, It’s Wayne.” He hums in response to whatever she says, the way adults always do, before continuing. “Right as rain, but I need you to radio the Chief for me.” Will can barely make out Florence’s muffled voice, but the words are lost to the phone line. “He’ll want to hear this. Trust me.”
Wayne does that same barely upturned smile. It wrinkles his eyes up, though. Like it’s a real one even if it’s small. “Thanks, Flo. Tell him to meet me at the Byers house.”
He hangs up the phone on Florence’s muffled response.
Wayne looks around, as if only just taking in the wreck of the house, eyebrows ticked up, scrunching up his forehead. He doesn’t say anything, though. Just asks, “this house got any coffee in it?”
Jonathan goes to make a pot, and they all settle back around the table, waiting for the Chief to burst down the door. It doesn’t take long.
The door slams open, hard enough that Will thinks it might leave a hole in the plaster. “Wayne?” he calls.
“In here!” Wayne calls back, sipping his coffee calmly like the Chief of Police isn’t yelling his name.
The Chief strides into the room like he has a right to it. His eyes settle on Wayne first, looking pissed off, before his eyes flick around the table, from Barb, to Nancy, to Jonathan, to Eddie, and finally, landing on Will and staying.
He goes pale, like Will’s a ghost someone invited for morning coffee. He shrinks into his seat, as Hopper yells, “Joyce?”
Then his Mom is there. She looks tired. Her hair is mussed, clothes wrinkly, bags under her eyes. Eyes that immediately settle on Will. She stops breathing, goes still as a corpse before bolting to his side.
She pulls him from his chair with enough force that they both go tumbling to the laminate. “Baby, baby, is that really you?” she asks, crying. She’s smelling his hair like that will tell her. Like he doesn’t still smell like sweat and dirt and ash. “Oh baby, you came home.”
Will burrows into her chest, sobbing. Part of him hadn’t been able to stop hearing her yelling his name as the Demogorgon growled, had been terrified that it’d gotten her, despite what Steve had said.
“I was so worried, sweetheart,” she says, garbled enough to almost be unintelligible. “I heard those awful noises and the gunshots, and then you wouldn’t talk to me, baby.”
She clutches him impossibly tighter. Will wriggles enough to free his face so he could breathe. Jonathan is kneeling behind her, hands settled on both their shoulders, crying in a way that Will’s never seen before.
He never wants to leave this moment.
But then the Chief yells over the din, “can someone tell me what the hell is going on?”
It goes quiet except for Joyce’s crying, like no one wants to be in the man’s crosshairs. Finally, it’s Eddie who responds. “You won’t believe this, Hop.”
Will pulls out of his Mom’s arms. She keeps them latched onto his ribs, but lets him sit up on his own. He looks over at where Eddie’s still seated at the table. His jaw is firm, resolute under his Uncle’s steadying hand. The Chief is glaring down at him, nostrils flaring in his customary anger before he takes a steadying breath, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Why don’t you give me a try?”
Part 25
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Mallowsweet Muses PART 3 - Sebastian Sallow/Ominis Gaunt/Female! Reader
Summary: Sebastian had been right all along... three heads really were better than two.
The OT3 sexcapades have arrived and now I’m gonna go crawl in a hole
Word Count: 4.3k
Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, F/M/M, polyamory, rough sex, gratuitous smut
Full fic can be found here on Ao3 ! Part 1 and Part 2 are linked here for anyone interested on Tumblr.
This wasn’t the first time you’d woken up with morning wood grinding lazily between your ass cheeks. Hell, with Sebastian around, it was pretty much a given. He was a snuggler through and through, intentionally stealing your warmth throughout the night like a leech, and when that was paired with his usual half-asleep, horny tendencies, well… like you said. Powerful morning wood.
It was, however, the first time you’d woken up sandwiched between two men. After Ominis and Sebastian had made good on their promise to ‘return the favor’ yesterday, the three of you had been too tired to bother trekking through the castle to return to your respective rooms. The large, spacious bed that Sebastian had conjured for your escapades served its purpose well, and all of you had opted to remain in the sanctity of the Undercroft in favor of returning to the dorms.
So waking up warm and cozy and stuffed between two dudes, one of whom was exactly one-third awake in the brain and two-thirds awake in his cock, was relatively new territory.
You shifted over in place between the two Slytherins, stretching your arms high above your head with a strained groan before you felt Sebastian’s arms snake around your waist, tugging you firmly against his bare chest. “Mm, good morning,” you muttered softly, doing your best to keep your voice low so as not to rouse the blond man inches away.
“Morning,” he murmured against the nape of your neck, and his breath tickled against your warm skin. He curled around you impossibly further, kicking one of his knees up to drape over your legs, and through hooded eyes you watched as Ominis stirred beside you, rolling over to face you and Sebastian.
The taller man cracked his eyes open, gracing you with the sight of his gorgeous, milky-blue irises as he blinked the sleep from his mind, and when his pale arm slithered out from under the covers to feel around for your hand, you met him halfway and intertwined your fingers with his own. “Good morning indeed,” he mused, his lyrical voice raspy with sleep.
You pulled gently on his arm, silently urging him to come closer, and he obliged you easily, sidling up directly against your front so that he could idly slip his arm over your waist. He followed the feeling of Sebastian’s arm when he felt him already holding you, trailing his heated palms down to the brunet’s slowly rocking hips. The drawn out gesture effectively trapped you in the middle of the man sandwich, and you were caged between the two radiating furnaces, nice and warm. The whole affair was akin to being stuck betwixt a rock and a hard place, but you weren’t about to start complaining.
Waking up with Sebastian at your back and Ominis pressed into your chest felt right. Ominis’ own knee hitched over yours and Sebastian’s tangled legs, and the way his wiry body conformed to the two of you was tantamount to perfection. All of it. All three of you.
You’d known yesterday when you and Sebastian invited Ominis into your duo that it was far more than ‘just a mere sex thing’. Ever since the events of your fifth-year, the three of you had overcome your struggles and found yourselves closer than ever. The comfort you felt amongst the longtime friends had made it even easier to fall in love with their contrasting personalities; Sebastian’s sharp, fiery nature worked brilliantly alongside Ominis’ softer, cooler demeanor.
You were beginning to realize you had a growing need for both, if you were being honest, and ‘just a sex thing’ couldn’t even begin to cover the affectionate warmth in your chest when Ominis hummed thoughtfully at your hands sliding up his smooth, alabaster chest.
“Anything planned for today?” Sebastian questioned from behind you, the lingering remnants of sleep drifting from his brain at the sight of your palms skirting up Ominis’ slender torso, and he buried his chin in the crook of your neck so he could participate in the languid touching. His freckled hands slipped up Ominis’ arm and across his bony shoulder to play with his shaggy, sleep-mussed hair, while the other tightened around your waist to press you solidly against his growing erection.
“No plans,” you whispered, dragging Ominis closer with your legs as you reached back to thread your fingers through Sebastian’s knotted bedhead, making your intentions to both men abundantly clear.
“No plans,” Ominis echoed, letting his eyes slide shut to dip his head down into the hollow of your collarbone, sucking at a fresh mark leftover from last night without even knowing it. Whether it was from him or Sebastian, you didn’t know. It was bracketed by light imprints of teeth, though, so it was likely the latter. You shivered at the attention, rolling your hips forward against Ominis’ and back into Sebastian’s.
Sebastian let his lips wander over the exposed, tantalizing stretch of your neck, brushing light kisses down the bruised expanse of skin. He and Ominis had certainly done their best to leave evidence behind in the midst of running you ragged the night prior. The two of them reverently got to work dotting your body with kisses and featherlight touches, and you sighed contentedly. Ominis’ head steadily rose higher until he felt Sebastian’s breath ghosting against your neck and his cheek, and when those eyes swirling with moonlight slid open, your freckled lover was pulling him by his hair against his lips with a throaty groan. Wiggling against them both, you swallowed thickly at the seductive sound of both men shamelessly making out right next to your ear.
Ominis must have heard you gulp if his breathy chuckle was any indication, and he pulled away from Sebastian with a soft nip at his lower lip before moving to kiss you too, tangling his tongue with yours lazily in time to his rocking hips. Grateful for the attention, your hand delved beneath the sheets to grip Ominis’ member, pleased to discover that he was standing at attention much like Sebastian, and he moaned into your mouth at the testing pump you bestowed upon him.
Sebastian was practically vibrating with need as he ground his cock against your backside more firmly, spurred on by the barely there sound of you sighing and Ominis’ groans of blatant pleasure. Reaching down to your lower half, Sebastian’s fingers slipped through your folds gently, pulling a startled gasp from your lips that Ominis swallowed fervently, and then he was easing a crooked digit inside of you, already craving the tight heat around himself.
Ominis had gotten his turn for most of the night, aside from Sebastian fucking your open mouth until you’d been brainless and desperate– which was more than fine, mind– but he knew what he wanted right now, and he willed you to relax into his slow, steady thrusts. Sebastian twisted his finger inside of you, listening carefully to the hitch of your quickening breaths as you rode back into his easy rhythm.
“Hm, eager much?” Sebastian teased quietly, breathing a laugh against your flushed shoulder. All you could do was moan in response, pulling Ominis against you harder for a messy kiss as you jerked him off under the covers, and he groaned when your fist tightened around the head of his cock and twisted.
“Fuck–” he pulled away from your lips to grit through his clenched teeth. “D-Don’t do that.”
You couldn’t help it; you grinned wickedly at his reaction. “Why? Are you too sensitive first thing in the morning?”
Ominis swore softly when you punctuated the question with another dizzying squeeze around his tip, and his hand flew away from your waist to grip your wrist in a bid to get you to stop. “Yes,” he hissed, “and rather quick to finish after waking up, so forgive me if I’m trying to protect my ego here.”
Sebastian laughed over your shoulder, tentatively slipping a second finger inside your welcoming heat and curling it up in a teasing motion that had you trembling in his arms. “She’s a demanding little thing isn’t she? What, he didn’t do enough for you last night? That’s not what it looked like from where I was sitting, darling.”
You flushed brilliantly at the memory of Ominis’ overwhelmingly large cock breaching your walls for the first time, recalling the cries of delight that had spilled from your spit-slick lips before Sebastian had silenced you with his own neglected member to fuck your throat in earnest. The man in question felt you contract around his fingers, betraying your train of thought instantly, and he chuckled darkly into the crook of your neck.
“Please,” you choked out, sounding breathless and needy as Sebastian pumped his fingers in deeper, pressing the heel of his palm against your clit for extra measure. Ominis groaned at the sounds tumbling from your lips, every stuttered gasp pushing him closer to the brink of ‘fuck it’, especially with how your fist tightened a fraction around his cock from Sebastian’s ministrations.
“You’re going to have to give her something, Ominis,” Sebastian chidded his friend, arousal coating his every word. You shivered when his fingers slid out of you completely, whimpering as he adjusted the arm he had curled under you so that you were snug against his chest when he lined up the head of his cock with your slick entrance. “She’s asking so nicely,” he whispered the praise directly against the shell of your ear, and then he was pressing into you, slowly and tenderly.
You arched and moaned as Sebastian slid into you, filling you up far more than you’d anticipated, but you weren’t protesting in the slightest. Not when Sebastian grabbed your thigh to spread your legs open further, and definitely not when his cock grazed past your still-sensitive sweet spot, leaving you to pant loudly in Ominis’ direction.
Sebastian watched with rapt interest as Ominis audibly processed everything happening beside him, and the blond moved to sit up with his knees tucked under him. All the while, your hand stayed glued to his shaft; in part because you desperately wanted to taste him and also because he had yet to release his vice grip on your wrist. A small smirk curled over Ominis’ lips then as he instructed his friend, “Thrust a little.”
Sebastian quirked a brow and smiled, hitching your leg up higher and nuzzling behind your ear before giving you a few slow, firm thrusts. You melted against his chest, a keening sound ripping from your throat, and your hand around Ominis’ cock flew down to grip at his knee weakly. Ominis’ hand replaced yours, stroking himself a couple times under the guise of ‘planning’, before he was scooting up closer to the head of the bed.
“Do you think you can handle us both again, love?” Ominis purred, patting at the empty space between his legs in a silent command. Sebastian seemed to understand immediately what Ominis meant, and he rolled you over so you were flat on your stomach between the taller man’s long legs. He stayed sheathed in your all-encompassing heat as he sat up on his knees, gripping your hips to raise your ass invitingly before him, and you wriggled yourself onto your elbows so you could inch your way closer to Ominis’ achingly hard cock. You hastily took him in your hands once again, relishing in the soft hiss it pulled from the blond’s lips before he grit out, “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”
Sebastian pulled back before giving you a testing thrust, jolting you so that your face careened straight into Ominis’ thigh. Your breath caught in your throat, the sensation of Sebastian pushing into the deepest parts of you tantamount to perfection, and then you felt Ominis’ slender fingers gather a handful of hair at the nape of your neck to pull your face directly up to his cock.
Ominis swore softly when you angled the tip of his shaft down to press invitingly against your lips, immediately setting to work peppering soft kisses and featherlight strokes against him. You heard him groan, the sound guttural and tempting, and Sebastian’s own fingers dug into your waist at the spark of lust that shot through him at the sight.
From behind, he got a glorious view of your arched spine, and he was able to watch himself slide in and out of you greedily, his cock already glistening with your alluring slick. Ominis was one hell of a sight too; his head was tipped back against the headboard, blond locs falling into his flushed face, and those stunning eyes pinched shut with obvious desire when your warm mouth finally enveloped the head of his generous length, laving your tongue over the tip to taste the salty pre-cum beading there.
“Fuck,” Ominis cursed, his hold on the back of your head tightening just barely. “Merlin– that’s good–”
You sealed your lips around him firmly and sucked, curving your tongue through the slit in some vain attempt to coerce Ominis into giving you more. He groaned and obliged you, arching his hips forward at the same time he tugged you further onto his shaft by your hair, and his stomach tensed as he felt you open wider to take everything you were given, no problem.
Sebastian had been content watching the entire exchange, his hands squeezing gently at your ass in encouragement, but the tight heat wrapped around his cock was beginning to get to him. Hunching forward, the brunet ran the tips of his fingers fleetingly over your jaw in silent praise before sitting back on his heels again, his hands returning to your hips to hold you steady as he pulled out nearly all the way. His eyes darkened as he watched you stretch around him, eagerly rolling his hips back into your incredible cunt, and the sound you made around Ominis’ cock lit a fire in his blood.
Your muffled cries around Ominis’ massive length seemingly motivated all three of you, and Ominis found it in himself to dig his heels into the mattress before he pulled back to start gently fucking your mouth. Sebastian leaned over you and set an even rhythm, following your pleading little whimpers until he was pounding evenly into you, holding you by your waist with bruising strength that made your head spin. All the while, you continued to do the best you could around Ominis’ slowly-thrusting cock, hollowing your cheeks and working your tongue over him in a bid to pull him in deeper.
Ominis swallowed hesitantly, knowing damn well that the size of him was more than enough to gag you. But then he felt your arms around his waist tighten, and your nails dug favorably into the skin of his back to silently convey that under no uncertain terms did you want him to hold back.
With a trembling breath, Ominis readjusted his hold on your hair and thrusted his hips deeper, hitting the back of your throat with a growl, and the way you clenched around Sebastian’s thick cock all but confirmed how much you fucking loved it.
Sebastian grinned diabolically down at Ominis and licked his lips, whispering to catch the blond’s attention. Ominis leaned forward with an eager moan and let Sebastian guide their lips together, kissing him desperately while he fucked your throat. He moaned louder when he felt you gag slightly, and he started to pull back so you could take a breath, but your hand shot up to catch his hip, holding him in place while you swallowed around him, then choked on his girth.
“Fucking hell,” Ominis gasped, his thighs spasming on either side of you while his grip in your hair teetered on the brink of painful. He pulled back when you saw fit to let him, sliding out of your mouth slick with saliva and pre-cum. You pulled in a few frantic breaths, licking away the wet strands still stretched between your lips and Ominis’ cock, before you dove right back in and bobbed your head perfectly over his aching arousal. “Holy shit–” Ominis stammered, his head tipping back with an audible thunk against the wood frame.
“Showing off, darling?” Sebastian asked, panting slightly as he rammed harder into your phenomenally soaked heat, lifting one of his hands to slap your ass playfully once– then twice– and the sound echoed throughout the humid room around you. Moaning from the sting, the vibrations in your throat reverberated straight through Ominis, causing him to buck harder into your mouth as you began flicking your tongue over the sensitive spot just under the head.
“I’m not going to last like this– fuck–” Ominis mumbled an incoherent string of curses when a particularly forceful thrust from Sebastian pushed your nose into the sparse collection of hair under his navel, and your garbled cries were like music to both men’s ears before you pulled off with a shuddering gasp.
You spluttered through your swollen lips, “F-Fuck, Sebastian, right there right there–”
Sebastian groaned in response, giving you another quick slap before railing into you harder, driving his cock straight past your sweet spot in sharp, fast thrusts that left you boneless in Ominis’ lap. Your hands fisted in the sheets on either side of Ominis, tugging fitfully as you wailed out desperately for more.
Ominis sat back to listen intently again, completely entranced by how easily Sebastian was rutting into you, his brutal tempo never faltering as you writhed in earnest under him. With the way you sounded– so needy and shaky and overcome with euphoria– Ominis couldn’t decide if he wanted to fuck your mouth or kiss you again. He settled for jerking himself off quickly, listening as you buried your cries into the hollow of his bent leg, twisting and trembling with every rough pass of Sebastian’s cock.
Ominis managed to hold out just long enough, until your high pitched, incessant begging grew louder and louder, slurring out promises of “Close, close, I’m close–” just before you threw your head back to scream Sebastian’s name. The two men felt as every muscle in your body tensed under the relentless pounding, and you tightened impossibly further around Sebastian’s cock at the same time your legs began to quake violently beneath you.
Sebastian keened breathlessly at the feeling, pumping deeper into your pulsing heat until you were a moaning, shaky mess in his arms and you were finally coming around him. You sobbed as you fell apart at the seams, Sebastian’s hips continuing to piston into you as he fucked you through your climax, and he leaned forward to tug Ominis off the headboard, burying his sweaty forehead in the crook of the blond’s shoulder. Sebastian sank his teeth into the sensitive skin of Ominis’ neck, frantically sucking and biting to muffle his own needy sounds against the pale, marred flesh. Ominis could only gasp, the stinging pleasure working in tandem with the painfully hard strokes he bestowed upon himself, and when he felt your head shift off of his lap to mouth brainlessly at his sac, that cord in his stomach was wrought tight as a wire.
“Shit,” was all Ominis said in warning before his cock twitched tellingly against your cheek. Half-coherent, you found the strength to push yourself up so you could take all of him in your mouth, swallowing around him again and bobbing your head eagerly while one hand slid away from his hip to cradle his balls. “Gods– fuck, I’m close,” he gasped against Sebastian’s temple.
Sebastian’s voice was raspy as he murmured against the wet, bruising skin, “You going to come for her? Seems like she’s eager to swallow for you, right? Come on, Ominis, come for us both, I want to hear you.”
Something about the affection in Sebastian’s gravelly voice, encouraging and yet still so damn filthy, sent Ominis reeling over the edge, gasping and clawing at both of you. His sharp, choked moans filled the Undercroft, his fingers fisting back in your hair as he came right down your throat, unable to keep himself from holding you firm on his cock until he was milked completely dry.
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as Sebastian ruthlessly chased his own pleasure, ramming his cock into you with a mind-numbing pace that had your eyes rolling back in your head. When he finally came with a hoarse shout of your name, he buried himself to the hilt to grind his balls against the reddening skin of your ass, pulling away from Ominis to squeeze generously at the welting handprints that he had left behind. Your moan was stifled around the softening cock still in your mouth, the feeling of being filled from both ends leaving you blissfully high and numb to anything else.
After a few moments of labored breathing, you allowed Ominis to slide out of your mouth and licked your lips contentedly, having already swallowed everything he’d given you. Your pleased sigh filtered up to Ominis as you let your head collapse against his thigh, and his fingers were instantly smoothing out the unruly mess he had created atop your head in the throes of passion. Your eyes fluttered shut, finding it all too easy to get lost in the feeling of him playing with your hair.
On your other end, Sebastian took his sweet time pulling out– languidly withdrawing his cock to the very tip before pressing in again– effectively shoving his load deeper inside of you, and you groaned at the overstimulation.
“Merlin,” Sebastian groused as he finally removed himself from within your spasming walls, and you whimpered at the jarring sensation. Those broad, strong hands gingerly lowered you down to the mattress, limp as the day you were born, but you found the willpower to roll towards Ominis and shamelessly curl around his outstretched leg.
Ominis’ hand came to rest against your back, rubbing soothing circles there as Sebastian crawled his way up to you. He nuzzled into the nape of your neck, laughing softly under his breath as he propped himself up sideways on his elbow, and you craned your head back to fix him with a questioning look. “What are you laughing at?”
The tips of Sebastian’s fingers ghosted down the seductive curve of your waist, then trailed up the supple rise of your hip to press lightly against the finger shaped bruises that now decorated your side. “Nothing, just a random, stupid thought.”
Humming in amusement, you let one of your hands wander behind you to affectionately caress the sharp outline of Sebastian’s hip bones. “Care to share with the class?”
Ominis could hear the grin in his voice when he asked, “What’s that Italian dessert called? The one with the cream in the middle?”
Your brows slammed down in confusion at the same time Ominis’ head swiveled in the direction of Sebastian’s voice. The blond retorted before you could, “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Come on, help me out here. She wanted to know, and this applies to the thought.”
Ominis huffed in exasperation, so you elected to entertain the freckled man, your body still too peacefully satisfied to let the random line of questioning shift your mood. “Tiramisu?”
Sebastian considered your suggestion, then shook his head, “No, not that one– the long pastry kind that’s folded over on itself.”
There was another brief pause before you offered, “A cannoli?”
“Yes, that’s the one! I thought that you were like a cannoli just now– getting stuffed from both ends. That’s what made me laugh.”
Ominis’ snort of horribly contained laughter had your face burning up in his lap, but even you couldn’t keep your giggles muffled for long. Sebastian shook his head, as though bewildered by his own stupid joke and lack of decorum, but that didn’t stop him from throwing himself down against the pillows, tangling his legs with your own before tugging at Ominis’ bony shoulder.
“That was quite possibly the dumbest thing you’ve said to date,” Ominis muttered as he let Sebastian pull him into your pile of limbs. You lifted your head to allow him the space to settle against the pillows, and once he had, Ominis was looping his arm under your neck to tug your head to his chest.
“I hardly think that joke wins first place,” Sebastian mused from behind you. “But now I am craving sweets. Anyone up for a trip to Hogsmeade?”
Groaning your protests against Ominis’ sternum, you rocked your head side to side, further disheveling the hair stuck to your damp forehead. “I think I’d rather go back to sleep. Maybe take a bath after– I haven’t decided yet. I can’t fathom leaving the room right now, though.”
Sebastian chuckled, leaning forward to tenderly press his lips to the smooth curve of your shoulder, and then he was peppering kisses up the bruised expanse of your neck until he reached your jaw. He playfully nipped at your thundering pulse while his hand sought out Ominis’, and as their fingers twined together, the brunet sighed heartily. “Sleep, then a bath, then Hogsmeade?”
“Works for me,” Ominis agreed quickly, already nestling himself deeper into the covers. The three of you shifted around easily, readjusting yourselves back into the loose, sweaty snuggle-pile that you’d woken up in, and it didn’t take long for sleep to creep over you once more. It was deeply satisfying to be sandwiched between the two Slytherin’s again, filling your heart with such fulfillment that you knew your thoughts from earlier had been strikingly correct.
Ominis was way more to you and Sebastian than ‘just a sex thing’. Later when your trio found itself locked in the Prefect bathroom– sneakily hoarding the spacious tub for yourselves– you and Sebastian shared a knowing look, happily finding yourselves on the same page. Because really, why the fuck not?
Covered in bubbles and love-bites alike, you and Sebastian then offered Ominis a different sort of invitation, and to your immense satisfaction, he accepted wholeheartedly.
#sebastian sallow x you#ominis gaunt x you#sebastian sallow x reader#ominis gaunt x reader#sebastian sallow x female! reader#ominis gaunt x female! reader#sebastian sallow smut#ominis gaunt smut#sebastian sallow x ominis gaunt x reader#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fanfic#bisexual silver trio because those boys are NOT straight#my writing#f/m/m#if this is the post that takes me out it was nice knowing you all
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Younger Gods: II
Younger Gods Master List
Dream x fem!reader (unnamed)
Chapter 1
Dream has doubts, questions, and a trespasser without a name. Matthew's rescuer has more problems.
Warnings: language, (non-sexual) child abuse, violence
A/N: First of all, you are awesome, amazing, incredible, and all good things wrapped in sunshine, rainbows, and sweet dreams. Secondly, I almost split this chapter in two. Not sure how I feel about the quality of the latter half, but we'll make due. Thirdly, again - holy shit - thank you so, so much for your support. I've added a tag list at the end of this chapter. If you left a more substantial comment, I will try to reply sometime today after I have slept. Lastly, I'm working on a masterlist to make navigation easier, so... enjoy?
*To like is sweet, but Morpheus smiles when you comment and/or reblog
Chapter 2: Lightning in a Bottle
The door to the little cottage stood bolted fast against them. Matthew’s pecking knocks went unanswered, and Morpheus studied the blank sky as his raven swept around to spy through a window. He suspected what the raven would find as his own eyes combed over the cloudless blue.
“The fire’s out,” Matthew said, returning to his side in a rustle of wings. “I couldn’t see any movement inside, and there were a few things missing. Few things knocked over. Looks like she left in a hurry.”
“Yes.” He’d studied the lands Matthew described as he strode through them. They did not live up to the tales. He found a hollowed, soulless space with wilted grass and browned flowers. Summer foliage crumbled from half-barren trees in the echoing stillness. Not a breath of wind disturbed the gathering detritus, and little cracks in the dust gasped for rain that wouldn’t fall.
A realm abandoned.
“She has fled,” he observed.
It fueled his growing concerns. This wasn’t a place Matthew’s mysterious benefactor just stumbled upon. She’d crafted it, grown it with nothing but her own magic and means. Without its master, it could only die. Although it wasn’t a large realm, it was clearly a realm, one bordering the Dreaming, no less, and if Matthew hadn’t fallen into it, even he might never have known.
Few entities could sustain their own worlds, and now he feared he had turned this creature into an enemy.
Matthew puffed up, shaking his head, and Morpheus looked away, preparing for the inevitable.
“Can’t imagine why.”
“I could not see you,” Morpheus said. He’d said it before, and he’d repeat his reasons until this little drama was resolved. “I thought you were lost. When an entity appeared with you in her arms, broken and bleeding, what was I to think? I could only assume you’d been taken hostage and forced to serve as a guide.”
“Well.” The raven flew into a little cherry tree, bereft of flowers, just in his master’s line of sight. “I wasn’t.”
“Yes.” He turned to pass back through the gap in the stone wall with its dry, crumbling moss. “You’ve said.”
“You know you’re kind of terrifying sometimes, right, boss?”
“I am. As I meant to be.”
The raven swooped over his shoulder, gliding just ahead as they walked back towards the border.
“So, what do we do now? Spare my dignity and pretend this never happened?”
“No.”
Wheeling overhead, Matthew squawked, “Why?”
“Because she may return.” Dream would set out the obvious if Matthew could not find it on his own. A misunderstanding instigated this problem, and he would suffer no more of them. “Even if she was not a threat before, she could be now. I must protect the Dreaming.”
After the Vortex, after Burgess, he had grown sensitive to risks. If he suspected a thing was dangerous, he would search down to its roots before agreeing it was safe. None of this seemed safe to him.
Matthew came to land on his shoulder. This was a new level of trust, of intimacy, really. Dream hadn’t let a raven perch on his shoulder since Jessamy, but it filled a corner of his heart he’d thought too broken to beat again when Matthew first dared it. The raven didn’t abuse the privilege. He clutched Dream’s shoulder rarely. He must be very concerned to do so now.
“She didn’t give me that impression at all.” Matthew spoke slowly, carefully, like he could get away with saying something his master didn’t like so long as he delivered it with manners. “I’d hate to see you do something you’d regret later is all, sir.”
Listening to the deep silence of the abandoned sphere, Dream let one hand rise to stroke down Matthew’s ruffled feathers. “I will not.”
Only a moment of peace lingered between them before the bird launched into new questions.
“How are you going to find her? You’re going to keep looking, right?”
Dream nearly sighed, and he felt a frown draw his face into a harder expression as his mood soured. He saw no simple solution to this problem. He had nothing. No name to follow and an empty world his quarry renounced in her haste.
“I will have to buy a favor.”
He followed the stranger’s steps back across her lands, tracing the journey his raven took home. Between the trees, over the hills, through the Void, to the gates. He sent Matthew to look for the missing lady – as the raven called her – in the waking world. If he had a name, he could ask Lucienne to find her book in the library, but he wasn’t sure she’d even brushed against the Dreaming before. Matthew reported the stranger was quite reluctant to even approach the fringes.
Sitting on his throne, he thought of the Fates. To make his ask, he must offer recompense equal to and worthy of his questions. He reached out into his realm to gather the right gifts, pulling the chosen fragments of the Dreaming to rest at his feet.
First, lightning caught in a bottle. A lucky escape, good fortune snatched from peril. Impossible and powerful.
Second, a skein of silver thread. The measure of a life, fragile and bright, a story he’d ask the Fates to unspool.
Third, a fresh branch from an ash tree. A symbol of connection between worlds, a traditional offering of divination.
When he reached the shore at the border of his realm, he found another gift, unsummoned, falling to fill the quiet of early evening. A gentle rain, barely more than a mist. He welcomed it, even if he hadn’t chosen it, and called on the Fates.
“Centuries without word. Now two summons in as many years.” The One Who Is Three spoke with the Mother’s voice. “What have you lost now, dear?”
“Such interesting gifts,” the Maiden said.
The Crone sneered. “You must have quite the favor to ask. Get on with it.”
Morpheus nodded, nearly bowing, acknowledging where he stood and the indignity of his supplication. “There is someone I need to find. I have questions for her.”
“And questions for us.” The Maiden teased. “Ask them, then. One to each, and from each one answer.”
Before he could begin to ask after who found his raven, he must understand what made the little realm next to his.
“My first question: A creature brought my wounded raven to the gates of the Dreaming. What is she?”
The Maiden took the first turn. Her dark eyes drew him into a vision, and he found himself in a sacred grove full of courtly fae. They ringed a man – a god reeking of ozone and singed hair – who held out a bundle.
“Conceived to cheat a debt. Given as payment, hours old.”
The bundle cried as greedy hands snatched it away, and the god laughed and left in a flash of lightning. A blink, and the bundle was a child in golden collar like twisted boughs of ash, thin and frightened with flowers in her hair.
“God-spawned.”
Years stretched through an instant. The girl grew until he could see the shape of the woman she’d become, the one he’d met on the shore. She pulled the blade from the fae king’s belt and thrust it through his heart.
“Kingslayer.”
She turned the sword on herself – on the collar, cutting between gold and flesh as the enchanted boughs twisted tighter. She tore it away with a rush of blood and a growl like thunder. The branches shattered. Lightning struck the sacred ash tree, and the remaining court scattered in newfound fear of their plaything.
“Storm god.”
They stood once again on the shore of the Dreaming, and he blinked carefully, absorbing what he’d seen, what shades of his question the Maiden shone a light over and which she left veiled.
“Thank you.” He looked to the next attribute of the Three. “My second question: What is her name?”
The Mother smiled softly, and Morpheus saw a grave. “Her true name lies dead and buried with her mortal mother.”
“Mortal?”
He asked without thinking, already considering if he might find Matthew’s new friend in her dreams. Even half-mortals must sleep, and her human blood would tie her to the Dreaming.
“One question, dear.”
“Apologies.”
He studied the headstone, memorizing the letters below the usual blessings. If he could not have her name, he would have her mother’s.
The Crone faced him last, and he knew of all the answers given, hers would serve him least.
“Ask your question, King of Dreams.” His title sounded like a taunt from her withered lips, and he drew himself up to answer.
“What intentions does she have for me and mine?”
The third Fate laughed in his face.
“She has no intention but to run from your shadow.”
All three voices rose in chorus, startling Morpheus into taking a step back. Lightning arced out of the bottle, and the misting drizzle swelled into a torrent. The Fates were screaming, laughing, mocking him with a fourth boon he hadn’t requested.
“You each stand at a crossroads, and a path stretches between you. You’ve asked the wrong questions, and you’ve chased her to darker roads, Dream Lord. These are your answers!”
As suddenly as the tempest appeared, it vanished. He stood alone on the empty shore, bewildered.
A crossroads?
It would explain the fourth gift he had not meant to offer, even the Fates’ eager response to his call. If he hadn’t supplicated himself and offered payment first, would they have come to howl over his impending fate regardless?
Matthew cawed in the distance, and the gates of the Dreaming rumbled as they opened to admit him. Morpheus turned towards them, marching back to his domain with far more worries than he’d carried with him to meet the Fates.
A crossroads always led to consequences. He must hunt down Matthew’s lady and find where his would lead.
-----------------------------
Three months.
She never stayed in one place longer than a week, careful not to make lasting impressions that may creep into anyone’s dreaming life. She made her first two jaunts, from her cottage to Oregon and from Oregon to Florida, by lightning. It wouldn’t attract attention in either stormy state, and it was impossible to track, even for one of the Endless.
From Florida, she flew to Spain and started working her way north, stopping in youth hostels and poorly-rated Airbnbs as she moved. Sometimes she had to lie in bed, pretending to sleep, so no one in the shared bedroom would pay too much attention. Holding still, trying to rest without relaxing the way her aching body demanded was torture. But she didn’t dare fall asleep.
The Nightmare King would find her, and she didn’t know what he’d do once he had her trapped. A warning to never trespass again would be the kindest outcome, but any entity with even basic knowledge of higher beings knew Dream of the Endless could be terrible. She’d seen it. She never wanted to see him again.
She was approaching her limits, though. Any draught potent enough to keep her awake longer than a few weeks demanded talent and experience. Not to mention a particular kind of magic. She knew a few creatures who would sell her some in the UK. If she could last another week, she’d have the tools in hand to keep the Dream Lord at bay forever.
In the meantime, she had substandard potions, coffee, tea, and energy drinks bought in bulk.
At least she didn’t have to lie down and pretend to be dead for eight hours again. Her current rental offered low water pressure, a dirty kitchen, and a stained bedspread. The bare wooden floors needed refinishing, and she worried about splinters as the boards leeched the feeling from her toes. But it afforded a modicum of privacy, and she valued that most. No roommates. Blinds and heavy curtains. There was even a kettle and three mugs in the dusty cupboards, so when the fridge died on the second night, she didn’t have to resort to warm energy drinks to keep herself going.
Enough green tea could energize an army. It certainly kept one little storm god conscious.
Rain pattered against the window. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine she was home again. No stupid ravens asking for her help. No breathless trips through the Void. No wrathful King of Dreams reaching for her over black sand with cold fury in his eyes.
She could almost hear the fire crackling, feel the gentle weight of a homemade blanket pressing her softly into the couch…
Jerking out of her doze, she sent her mug flying. Hot tea scalded the back of her hand as the ceramic thudded against the floor. She jumped to her feet, slapping herself twice to make absolutely sure she wouldn’t nod off again.
How much longer could she last without help? Maybe she should take the next ferry across the Channel, reach out the minute she landed to make a bargain. The fatigue tugged at her like a ball and chain, slowing her down. Her mother gave her many gifts, but the human need to sleep had always been a curse. Now it wasn’t just unpleasant. It might be deadly.
She picked up the mug and moved it to the sink. With no energy left to clean the mess and no stamina to stay awake if she sat down, she just stopped. Leaned there.
She’d survived worse. She’d survive this. And then she’d start over, and she’d be smarter about it this time.
A branch tapped on the window as she dragged her hand down her face. The rain was slowing down, and she couldn’t hear the wind at all.
So why was a branch tapping against her window? And so regularly.
Chest tight with dread, she looked over her shoulder to see a raven silhouetted against the glass. The streetlight behind it turned the inky bird into a shadow, and her nails pressed deep into her palm as she turned to fully face it.
It pecked the glass again, bobbing to catch her eye.
Her gaze flicked to the shadows, looking for a lean monster ready to deliver justice for her imagined assault. But she found nothing.
The bird tapped again, and she thought she could hear a faint human voice calling over the rain. Of course it couldn’t be a regular raven. Or a crow. And of course the damn thing spoke. It sounded familiar, too.
It took a minute for her drowsy brain to work through the despair to a revelation.
She didn’t really have a choice, did she?
He’d already found her.
So, she forced herself across the room and opened the window with shaking hands. The fading storm breathed in drops of rain, and a gust of wind pushed through with the raven. The curtains fluttered as the bird flew over her shoulder. He perched on the back of the chair she nearly dozed off in, looking over her rented utility flat with beady, judging eyes.
“I take back everything I said about your last place,” Matthew said. “This is a dump.”
She didn’t want to lock the raven inside with her, but she hoped to keep out some of the rain, so she pulled the curtains. It felt like pulling the covers over her head to hide from the boogeyman.
Maybe Matthew hadn’t told his master he’d found her yet. “Is this going to be a thing? You showing up and insulting where I live?”
“Could be.” He cocked his head. “You look awful.”
He didn’t need to tell her about the bruises spreading around her eyes. They greeted her in the mirror every morning. Still rude as fuck of him to point them out, though.
“We weren’t supposed to see each other again, remember?”
“Yeah,” Matthew cleared his throat, “about that.”
She let the long sleeves of her sweater fall down over her hands, pulled her arms close across her chest, defensively comforting herself.
“Does he know? That you found me?”
The raven ducked guiltily, though he twitched to pin her with his gaze again immediately. “He sees what I see. So. Yeah.”
She snapped her head to the side, breaking eye contact. A shudder rolled through her, and she hunched, pulling her sweater taut like a blanket around her shoulders. Fear punched her in the stomach, and she was glad she never got to finish that cup of tea.
“What does he want?” she whispered.
Matthew hopped a little closer, hanging on the edge of the chair, working to persuade her while respecting her distance. “He needs to talk with you, make sure you aren’t planning something that could hurt the Dreaming. I know you’re not. You know you’re not. You’ll be safe, I promise.”
His enthusiasm won a weak effort of a smile. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…”
“He could come to the waking world,” Matthew pointed out. “I think it’ll be easier for everyone if you just take a damn nap. You really do look terrible. Have you really been awake for three months? That can’t be good for you. Even a demi-god needs her beauty sleep.”
“What?” She rushed forward two steps, not exactly aggressive, but panicked beyond caution. “I didn’t tell you that. How do you know that?”
The raven shifted from foot to foot. “Lord Morpheus might have – ah – asked around.”
“Who? Who did he ask?”
“The – uh – the Fates?”
Laughing, frantic, she raked her hand back through her hair. Did the bird not get it? How stupid could a raven be? She looked at him the way he eyed her when she failed to notice the gates to the Dreaming. Had it really been three months ago? It felt like the day before, or a decade back. Nothing in-between.
“I don’t know if I’m really supposed to be telling you all this,” Matthew grumbled. “You okay?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Maybe you’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep?”
“I seriously doubt whatever your master has planned for me will translate into a good night’s anything.” She shook her head, trying to remember the ferry schedule, wondering if she could literally outrun dreams.
“Just give him a chance.” Matthew sounded so earnest. His human voice gave his insistence weight, called to the human half of her own soul. He really believed she’d be safe, but then, he believed she’d be safe last time, too.
She dropped to sit in the corner and let her face fall into her hands. The rush of wings informed her the bird had come to rest on the bed beside her. She kept acting like she had a choice in all this, but she knew the games of kings. Any implication of freedom existed to ease the noose over the chosen victim’s head. He’d have what he wanted from her, no matter how far she ran or how long she stayed awake.
She faced the raven. “Okay.” Head up, hands dangling over her knees, palms glimmering with further evidence she was, in fact, not okay at all. “I’ll go to sleep.”
Matthew sagged in relief. “Thank you. Really, I mean it. And I’m sorry I got you into this mess, but I’ll stay here until you wake up. I’ll keep you safe.”
“You better.” She was too tired to climb into the bed, now that she’d caved to her exhaustion. “If I wake up with a knife in my ribs, I’ll haunt you.”
“I deserve that. Now, how about you get in bed? You can’t be comfortable down there.”
She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the wall. She really was fading fast. It wasn’t all passive aggression. Only a little.
Matthew kept talking, probably cajoling her to get a blanket or pillow or change into pajamas or something. She knew she’d wake aching and terrified no matter how comfortable and safe she made herself before drifting off. Dream Lord or no, her sleeping hours were cursed.
The raven’s voice faded with the rest of the world. A softer darkness wrapped around her drifting mind, pulling her into dreams. How could anyone enjoy the feeling? She wanted to kick out, like people did waking from an imagined fall. Infants learned to dream before they learned to walk, following natural instinct as they crossed between realms.
But it was hard to play with an unconscious toy. At night, the creatures who raised her stuffed her full of dangerous magics so she wouldn’t sleep, wouldn’t dream. She only learned how after she escaped, and by then any instincts had died. It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t peaceful. It felt like jumping off a cliff.
She knew she’d fallen well and truly asleep when the weight settled around her neck. The collar she fought so hard to destroy still hung around her neck when she dreamed. Cold and sharp, it flexed like a muscle, and in the dead silence before the nightmares began, she could swear she felt a pulse.
When she opened her eyes, the Dream Lord stood before her in his helm. As she’d thought, this was no social call. She’d bet her left kidney he wasn’t there for an apology, either.
At least she didn’t have to stare into those damning eyes.
They stood on an endless lake under a dome of stars. The only ripples crept from their feet, and the black water spread to the horizon, an otherwise perfect mirror for the clusters of light and color above.
“Thank you.” The Dream Lord’s quiet voice filled the dreamscape. “For returning my raven.”
He’d chosen the perfect setting. Dark. Endless. She had nowhere to run or hide, like she’d discovered in the waking world.
“If you know I didn’t hurt him,” she said, “why are you still hunting me?”
“I still have questions.”
That sounded… ominous.
“About?”
“About the nameless storm god whose realm abuts my own, who can enter the Dreaming in body because of her immortal father, who can enter the Dreaming in sleep because of her mortal mother.”
He took a step forward. She retreated.
“About a crossroads foretold by the Fates.”
Another step. More space surrendered.
“And now that you stand before me in the Dreaming…”
He vanished. She whirled, turning on her heel, jerking around to peer over her shoulder. Even though she couldn’t see him she could still feel him, and the hairs stood straight on the back of her neck. Motion caught her eye just when long fingers brushed over the collar, and she flinched away. He let her.
“This is not of the Dreaming,” he said, attention still on the golden branches she’d taken out of his reach. “It does not belong here, and I do not like magic that interferes with my domain.”
She put her hand over the collar. She wanted to hide her pain and shame, and it was a familiar torture. It almost comforted her in the face of the enigmatic creature under the helm.
“What do you want?” The damn whisper was back, but she couldn’t find anything besides fear to power her voice.
The helm exaggerated the smallest motions, and when the Dream Lord tilted his head, he looked like a bird of prey choosing the angle of attack.
“To know you. To understand what threats you may bring against me.”
“Then just ask me.” Her dream self wore the same big sweater, and her fists tangled in the loose ends of the sleeves. “I’ll tell you anything.”
“No.” He raised a hand. “You’ll show me.”
The water under her feet remembered the laws of physics, and she plunged straight down into oblivion. Half a yelp escaped before the endless lake pushed into her mouth like a gag. She looked up, clawing for the surface as Dream’s will pulled her deeper, staring into the helm’s soulless gaze, where Dream towered above her. The stars grew distant and dim until she was alone in the dark, only the collar for company.
Invisible hands pulled on the branches around her neck, like brute force could tear if off, and the curse tightened in response, punishing her for the assault with suffocating thorns.
In a blink, the lake disappeared. It tore in half like a curtain, and she found herself sitting in a painfully bright clearing, just outside the shade of an ancient ash tree. Little hands – her hands – combed through the long grass. Her grown thoughts filled her childhood body, helpless to stop the history acting itself out like a play.
She begged in her child’s voice, “I’m so hungry. May I please have something to eat? Please, it hurts.”
King Alberich smiled down at her, the minor fae monarch who accepted her in place of her father’s godly blood. He lifted his hand to her chin. “You shouldn’t eat when your stomach hurts. Are you sure you’re hungry?”
At that age, she hadn’t understood their games. They coddled her when she was small so they could pick apart their careful work in the centuries to come. Their playtime was cut short, but they’d made the most of it.
The king pulled on her chin, and she opened her mouth obediently, expecting some morsel from his hand. Instead, he stuck two fingers in her mouth. She sputtered but couldn’t escape the hand holding her jaw. The fingers grew down her throat, and as her eyes grew wide and she thrashed against his grip, he cooed, “Let’s make sure there’s nothing in your belly making you sick.”
His claw-like nails scratched the bottom of her stomach, and a new pain overshadowed the hunger pangs.
“Empty. Like you said.” His fingers shrank back and he pulled them out of her mouth. He had blood under his nails, ringing his cuticles. As she gagged on air, doubled-over on the ground, he took a piece of bread from his plate. “Try this. See if it settles.”
She was so hungry she did. All but ripping it from his hand, she tore chunks free with her teeth. There wasn’t time to chew. He could take it away again.
But now her tummy really was hurt, and as the bread mixed with the blood in the burning scrapes in her gut, she knew she couldn’t keep down the meal. She coughed it all back up beside the king’s boots, and he pet her hair ever so gently as he said, “I told you not to eat when your stomach hurts.”
Dream was with her. She felt him sharing the space behind her eyes, observing her suffering as a voyeur while warped years of torment unspooled around them. He watched the collar, held onto long moments as the king worked magic and set spells. He had questions only the collar’s maker could answer, she realized, and her memories were his only path to enlightenment. Was that the only motive behind her suffering, or was the past his test of her character?
She knelt before the throne built into the roots of the ash tree. Alberich had tried to trap the half-mortal bard Taliesin in his court, and she’d dared help him slip the net.
“Your clever little hands have betrayed you,” the king said. “So has your smart tongue, but you will keep that. We would miss your conversation. But we treasure you too much to let so many traitorous pieces poison you, so we will take these,” he touched the upturned palms of her hands, “until they are worthy of you again.”
He peeled away the flesh from her wrists to the tips of her fingers with kindly words and a dull blade. She suffered for weeks with bared muscle, tendon, and fat, in agony with every twitch, every breath of wind. When the king returned her skin, she had to thank him for protecting her. For his mercy and wisdom.
She knew time worked differently in dreams. It had worked differently in the sacred grove where Alberich held court, too. That knowledge didn’t prepare her for the years of pain she endured a second time under the Nightmare King’s control.
When the king preferred to keep his silks and velvets clean, he let the collar punish her. She didn’t have to make a mistake. He enjoyed watching her writhe and choke as it dragged her to the brink of death.
Insults and degradation flowed over broken bones and careless poisonings. If she’d really been a mortal child, she would never have survived.
But she had, and she did again.
Finally, she was old enough and trusted enough to fight back. The king beckoned her to his side, praising the songs she’d practiced until her throat and fingers bled to entertain his courtiers. No one had told her to, and he saw it as a sign of devotion.
“What do you wish for?”
He asked expecting something simple and childish, or something clever to flatter him and earn her more praise. Years of playing the good dog, tamed and docile, lulled his caution of her godly half. It left room for his ego to grow unchecked. He’d lost all fear of what she might do, believing there was nothing she could do.
She leaned close and whispered in his ear.
“I wish for my freedom in your death.”
Her hand found the hilt of his sword, she pulled it from the scabbard, and she sheathed it again in his chest. She pierced him five times, and she only stopped when heart went still and his chest fell hollow in the wake of his last breath.
All the while, the collar tightened. Long thorns grew into her skin, seeking to bleed her faster than a crushed windpipe could suffocate her. Blinded by pain, she pushed the blade into the side of her neck. Even if it killed her, she’d get the collar off. She fought it, turning one of the king’s magical tools against another. Black bars crept across her vision, eating the light, and she poured all her strength into a final, twisting stab, angling hard against the golden boughs.
As she fell to her knees, the collar shattered. She sucked in a ragged breath, swallowing blood as a red pool grew around her. Lightning turned the grove white in a brilliant flash. Smoke filled the air. The ash was on fire.
She lay bleeding, closer to death than she’d ever been before, but stronger, too. Her younger eyes closed, and she found herself back on the surface of the cosmic lake, curled on her side.
Gasping.
The collar, as far as she knew, couldn’t kill her in her dreams, but it liked to try. It liked to remind her she hadn’t escaped the curse entirely, that the dead king still had his grip around her neck.
Whimpering, she tried to wedge her fingernails under the gold. It was a habit paired with instinct. No matter how many times it happened, she struggled to pry the thing loose, even when she knew it would do no good. Logic had nothing to do with survival.
As she battled to breathe, black shoes disturbed the water ahead, and the Dream Lord took a knee to better see her face.
Usually, the nightmares came baying once the collar incapacitated her. Fanged shadows and creeping, scaled things dripping venom, some with human faces and some with no faces at all. Now one of the most powerful entities in the universe hovered with nebulous intent. She might prefer the nightmares, though at least the Dream Lord hadn’t bitten her yet.
As if he could read her mind, the Endless said, “The nightmares will hunt you no more. But this…” He touched the collar again, and it seized so hard it nearly snapped her neck. Her eyes rolled up in her head, and he waited until she’d come back to herself before continuing, softly. “This I cannot banish. Not yet.”
She never expected him to. She expected to be banished herself so she’d leave the Dreaming and take her invasive curse with her.
“When next you sleep,” he said, “your dreams will be kinder.”
It wouldn’t matter what he promised if she never slept again.
She gradually realized in her semi-lucid state he wasn’t wearing the helm. Did he like watching her struggle without the filter, or did this mean he’d forgiven her for the trespass she never committed? There was too much pain and not enough air to think.
“This dream is over.”
As she crashed back into her corporeal body, she took a frantic breath, choked on it, and wound up coughing desperately as her lungs came to terms with the fact that she was not actually suffocating. A stabbing pain lanced her neck, and she cradled it through her favorite scarf.
“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! It’s okay! Everything’s fine. You’re awake!”
Matthew flew over, landing on her knee so he could look her in the eye.
“Deep breaths, okay? You alright? How did it go? Do you need some water?”
He was perched on the stained bedspread. He must’ve dragged it off the mattress to cover her while she slept. While his master tortured her for the crime of saving the dumb bird.
“I’m – I’m fine,” she croaked. A terrible lie, but she’d say whatever she had to in order to make the bird leave. His eyes were not his own, after all. “I’m fine. Go home, Matthew.”
“I’m not sure about that.” He flapped his wings, agitated. “You don’t look fine. You don’t sound fine.”
“Please.” Her voice cracked. She paused to gather herself, and the bird respected the moment long enough for her to blink away some tears and try again. “Please, Matthew.”
He sighed. He shook his head and his shoulders drooped, but he said, “You want to be alone? I get it. Okay. I’ll go. Just take care of yourself? Please?”
He fluttered to the open window and pushed aside the curtains.
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
She snorted. “Too late.”
His nails tapped on the windowsill. She imagined she could hear the indecision.
When he flapped away with a final caw, the damn broke.
Her next breath caught three times as her chest wrestled with a broken sob. Hands pressed tight over her mouth kept the noise down. The last thing she wanted was someone coming to investigate, and if Matthew was lurking across the road, she didn’t want him to catch anything through the open window.
She curled up tight into the wall with a head full of bad memories and a heart full of fear.
Never again.
She would never sleep again.
When the shaking stopped and she found the stamina to get up, she grabbed her things and left the rental’s keys on the kitchen counter.
She’d be on the next ferry to England.
Chapter 3
*Tag List Discontinued*
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Enemies to Lovers
Mick Schumacher x Senna reader
F1 Romance trope Masterlist
It was so hard writing Mick as anything but a sweetheart but i think it turned out great let me know what you think!
Next part lance stroll marriage of convenience
“A rivalry we thought we’d never see again folks, once again Schumacher vs Senna on the formula 1 circuit.” You toned out the anouncers voice coming from everyone’s phone you passed with in three miles of the track, it was common for them to point out the renewed rivals ever since you got to F1 following your fathers foot steps it’s always been the headline. Not that you cared it was true after all.
The Emilia race always head tension for you and Schumacher, being where your father crashed, and media was all over it. Getting you both together for interviews ratings always spiked this time during the season for drama alone.
“Senna.”
“Mick.” Taking the spot next to him in front of the camera not bothering to look at him. He scoffed, “Didn’t know we were on a first name basis now Y/N” you shook your head in disagreement, “We aren’t, once you start driving like a Schumacher i’ll call you one.” You saw his shoulders puff up out of the corner of your eye.
“We’re here today with the Daughter of Aryton Senna and the son of Michael Schumacher the two greats back on track fighting for the chance to win.”
You snicker at their intro speaking only loud enough for Mick to hear.
“I’m fighting to win you’re fighting to just get in the points.” Mick snarled gearing up for his own comment but the interviewer Sarah, finishing her intro innturupted him.
“So we are all excited for this race, but what are you two looking forward to most.” She nodded to the Hass driver to start who took the chance to clap back.
“Can’t wait to beat this one.” Nodding his head towards you that easy smile he uses to fool everyone into thinking he’s a sweetheart sliding across his face, sure as if. Laughing giving him a sympathetic pat on his arm. “Oh Mick they don’t have a place after last.”
“Bite me.” Growling through clenched teeth still pulled into a smile to save appearances. “Not even with your teeth.”
“Okay,” Sarah dragged out her words at your back and forth, flipping for another question.
“Y/n, you have been at the top of the standings since the first race of the season Leclerc a whole ninety points behind you how does it feel to be this close to a championship win?” Finally a good question.
“It feels incredible, this year with McLaren has felt amazing the car just clicks with me and we are all very excited to be a contender this year.” And it was true after your first year with Aston Martin then getting to McLaren the next it felt right you could feel it in your bones this was your year.
Sarah smiled satisfied with your answer then turned to your fellow driver.
“Mick its been a rough start with you earning no points in your F1 career, but how are you and your team feeling about this upcoming race?” Mick shrugged and you could tell that talks of you getting this close to a championship bugged him. “Well we are working on the car I’m sure it would be easier to get points if my name opened doors to bigger teams.”
You laughed out loud at the supposed burn. “Oh Mick my last name doesn’t steer the car, and it doesn’t get you a better seat as you’re a prime example of.” By now you and Mick were in a stare down, interview be dammed.
“YYYY/NNNNN SSSEEEENNNAAAA!!!” You broke the glare to see your teammate Daniel shout your name, his smile easing your anger. He saw the tension rising and made the decision to separate you both. Daniel smiled over your shoulder to Sarah telling her some bull story about Zak needing you, but she bought it not one to outrank a principal.
You turned to Mick giving probably the fakest smile. “See ya when i lap you” he nodded clinching his jaw, blue eyes turning into daggers. “Go fuck yourself”
Dan started pulling you away but you shouted back over your shoulder.
“I’ll think of you when i do!” Throwing a finger wave in for extra effect. Successfully stunning Mick to silence. Y/n 1-0 Mick.
You walked away with your head held high glad to have gotten the last word while Dan stumbeld behind, “That was an interesting come back. Since when are you into mini Schu?” He spoke his brows practically in his hair line.
“Uh never! It was just to make him uncomfortable.” Appalled he would even consider you having any feeling other than hate for the Hass driver.
“Oh i definitely think his race suit is more uncomfortable now.” His statement made you stop in your track. “No way.” “Yes way.” Dan laughed. “You didnt see how he looked at you when you turned around.” He hummed and you both carried on walking.
“With distaste more than likely.” You scoffed.
“I think you’re just his taste actually.” He suddenly stopped grabbing your shoulders positioning you to look at the huge pictures of you and Mick side by side advertising the rivals.
“Look how cute you guys look together.” He cooed, laying his head on your shoulder, which you quickly shrugged off.
“Just saying the line between love and hate is very thin.” The space between his pintched fingers was minimal emphasizing his point, making you roll your eyes. The rest of the day was boring and you just wanted to get back to your hotel room and get ready for qualifying tomorrow.
you were already running late having slept through the first two alarms you set. You were distracted by tying your boots and hopping down the hallway at the same time, you didn’t have a chance to see who was in the elevator before the doors shut trapping you together.
“Senna.”
“Mickey.” You sighed knowing who’s voice that belonged to without having to turn around. “There’s no one else here you can drop the attitude without ruining your image.” Did he just sass you? You spun around about to give him a piece of your mind when the lights flickered, making you both freeze. The elevator jurked to a stop making you fall backwards into Micks chest.
His arms wrapped around your waist instinctively, holding you tight against him.
“Uh Senna?” “Yeah?” You breathed out. You felt Micks breathing against your back the steady rise and fall distracting you along with Daniels words from yesterday.
“I think it’s safe now.” He softy spoke squeezing your hips making you jump out of his grasp and fix your shirt trying to appear unbothered. Mick smirked at you behind your back as he pressed the help button. Which gave an automated voice saying they will get to it as soon as possible, making both your spirits drop.
“Well get comfortable.” He said leaning against the wall across from you, sitting on the floor. You mimicked him redoing your hair into a messy bun on top of your head, holding the bill of your hat between you teeth, you breath involuntary caught in your throat as Mick leaned closer gently pulling your hat out from between your lips, holding it for you. With that sweet aggravating look of his.
“That’s not very lady like.” He teased, Dodging your hand that went to snatch your hat back. He leaned back tracing the logo and your number sewn on. He hated to admit it but it was kinda cool. “I’m a race car driver I’m not lady like.” You grumbled trying to reach for it again, falling and catching yourself before you fell on top of him, ending up nose to nose, were his eyes always that blue or was it lack of oxygen.
“Clearly.” He agreed, placing a hat on your head, Snapping you out of it. “Why does your hat say Y/n?” He asked confusing you, does he really not know. “It’s my name genius.” He rolled his eyes, “i know that by why not Senna.” His question made you pause, were you both actually having a civil conversation and were you going to allow it.
“When Aston signed me they only called my Senna, but McLaren let me step out of my fathers shadow a bit and make my own name for myself not just my last name. I’m sure you understand.” Mick wasn’t expecting that much of an honest answer from you, he was waiting for you to tell him to mind his business, then a lightbulb went off in his head. “Wait, is that why you don’t call me Schumacher?”
You shrugged finding the loose string of your shirt very interesting. It was much easier being around him when you were bickering. Mick couldn’t believe it, what he thought was you disrespecting him was actually you being kind to him and being the only person not to connect his driving to his fathers, were you just defending yourself when he snapped back? he didn’t know how to feel.
“Now i feel like an ass for Calling you Senna.”
“Oh i definitely think you’re an ass.” You teased your cocky smile back on your face. There’s the Y/n he knew. Your escape wasn’t long after that and you practically sprinted to the track not noticing the hat on your head wasn’t yours at all and he had switched it with his Hass hat until the paparazzi posted the photo of you running and Mick smugly wearing your McLaren hat behind you, with the headline. ‘Rivals to lovers?’
You made pole position in the race a sweet victory for your team, you were laid in your room after media, typing away on YouTube like you always did for background noise, how you got onto Hass YouTube page you’ll ignore but you didnt notice it until a knock on your door sounded.
“There’s our future champion, woah do you have a boy over?!” Daniel sang, when you opened the door, your brows furrowed not realizing he could hear the tv. At the chance to embarrass you he pushed passed you expecting some Frenchman in your room coming up empty, then he saw what you were watching.
Raising his eyebrows he slowly spun to face you. “Oh, what a turn of events this is.”
“I dont know what you mean i didnt put it on!” You defended turning the tv off. “Sure you didnt.” He scoffed throwing the Hass hat on your bed from your dresser. “Means nothing.”
At his look you knew you had to explain. “We got trapped in the elevator he switched our hats that’s it.” He nodded along not believing a word. “And you talked to him?”
“Words were probably exchanged.” You shrugged, Daniel was loving this, having already gotten the details from Vettel. The two drivers were your biggest shippers. Seb knowing how big of a crush Mick had on you from when you first joined F1, and Dan just loved the drama.
Just as he was about to tease you more your phone dinged. Making Dans eyes light up. “Is that him!” He squealed. “No.” You scoffed sighing when you looked at the screen dropping your arms to your side.
“It is him you’re blushing!” He gasped like a school girl. “It’s hot in here!” You denied but did feel butterflies at the congratulations text. “I want y’all’s kid named after me.”
Somehow you and Mick became friends carpooling from the hotels to track, interviews together now being about racing not just your names. The next race weekend you even had a Hass care package in your room from Mick saying his hat was your good luck charm. You won that race too, much to his amusement and he even scored in the points. The media loved the video of him spinning you around both covered in champagne.
The kiss you shared after your home win outed you both plus the photographs of you and Micks family on summer break did as well, his sister posting on social media a photo of a tense chess match between you and her brother with the caption ‘rivals on and off the track’ made the fans lose their minds.
Now seated next to each other during a press conference the other drivers teasing you seeing the heart eyes you both shared between questions. “Question for Y/n, with both you and Mick, having big names in F1 who’s name would you take if you get married?”
“Mine.” “Mine” you and Mick answered simultaneously. Making the room laugh. Mick who tried to seem serious, looked at you. “What about when we have kids they would have my name.” He laughed. And you shrugged playing along.
“Technically one already has Daniels name.” Making his eyes widen. And Daniel fall to the floor from somewhere behind the reporters. “Excuse me!”
“How about whoever has the most championships by the time we have kids that’s the name they get.” You offered knowing you were one race away from winning your first. Making Mick shake his head fondly at your antics. You humor and teasing that used to drive him up the wall now was his favorite thing about you, he loved it.
“Deal.”
That press conference ended up having the highest views in history because there’s only one thing people and Daniel and Seb loved more that rivals and it’s the story of enemies to lovers.
Next up. Lance stroll as marriage of convenience
Hope you guys liked it the first of the F1 romance tropes down more to come if youd like to be added to my F1 tag list please let me know!!!
F1 tag list. Note I only have one tag list it’s to hard to separate them by driver so if you’d like to be removed please send me a message . @starxqt @motylekrozi @yeolsbubbles @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mooone90 @damianodavidhands @zig-zzag @its-astrotea-love @peakywitch @obsessed-fan-alert @lenniebordeaux @marelovesf1 @capela-miranda @enjoymyloves
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#mick schumacher imagine#mick schumacher x reader#f1 imagine#f1 drivers as romance tropes#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#pierre gasly imagine#pierre gasly x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#Charles lecrelc x reader#charles lecrelc imagine#carlos sainz imagine#daniel riccardo imagine#carlos sainz x reader#daniel ricciardo x reader#lewis hamilton imagine#lance stroll imagine#lance stroll x reader
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Kintsugi 1
Pairing: Yoongi x reader
Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, tiny bit of eventual fluff
Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.
Word count: 5.5k
Content: no real warnings for this chapter, reader makes a couple of jokes about killing herself/dying
A/N: ahhhhh it's finally here!!!!!! This story has been going around and around in my head since last summer and I am so excited (and nervous lol) to finally be posting it! Unlike with AFL, I am posting this one as I write, so I've only got this first chapter written. I have no planned schedule for updates right now; we're just going to see how it goes.
Enormous thanks to @here2bbtstrash and @btsgotjams27 for beta-ing this one for me and, honestly, turning it from something that was like, fine, to something actually good, that works how I want it to etc.
Masterlist | Chapter Two
Chapter One - Peaches
You wiped your wrist on the tea towel hanging from your waist. The juice from the nectarines and peaches you were peeling was all over: your hands, the counter, threatening to drip onto the floor, to run the length of your arm. You were sticky-sweet and anxious. You tried to focus only on the task at hand, taking it one step at a time. Peel the fruit. Chop the fruit. Place the fruit on the pastry base.
You grabbed the knife with still sticky hands and cut the flesh from the stones. You tried to do this neatly, elegantly, so the resulting slice of fruit would look pretty in the finished pie. Your knife skills were still not really up to it.
“It’s the thought that counts,” you whispered, resigning yourself to the fact that this would be a very ‘home-made’-looking dessert – as was everything you baked.
Peach and nectarine pie. When you first made this as a crumble, almost a year ago, Yoongi tried to call it ‘peachtarine’, but you were not convinced the name worked. It was also nearly a year ago that you and he first met. You would never have imagined that a chance meeting would have given you one of the most important people in your life. There were so many little things that had to happen to put you both in that room on that night. You were grateful that the universe got it together to make it work. You were extremely nervous that you were about to fuck it up.
As you placed the fruit on the pastry in the pie dish, you stared, unseeing, out of the window. The late afternoon sun, dying in the sky, shone bright into your apartment; it highlighted the swirling dust motes in the air, sparkling almost like glitter. The cherry blossoms were falling from the trees as if time were running out. The air was still today so they floated and settled like snowflakes; on windier days, they looked like a blizzard.
It had always felt like such a transitional time. Winter was cold and hard and barren. Not without beauty, but it was dark and difficult and so much easier to hole up in your apartment, hide from the world, forget about sunlight and joy. Then cherry blossoms burst upon the scene, a bright reminder that life still goes on. The trees that had looked desolate and empty now embowered with new life. There were two weeks of blossoms everywhere, inescapable. They swept into doorways, fell into your hair, collected beneath the trees like matching rugs. An enormous burst of life after the bareness of winter. Then they all fell and were gone and the weather swept you up in its warm arms as summer arrived again. You liked the cushion, the ushering in, the fortnight in which you could adjust to the world being beautiful again. It was your favourite time of year.
You were pulled from your thoughts by the beeping of the oven. It had reached its required temperature. You finished placing the fruit and carefully slid the pastry lattice over the top. You brushed everything with egg wash and awkwardly elbowed the oven door open, trying not to get your sticky hands everywhere. You slid it in and set a timer. You washed your hands. You washed the dishes. Now all you had to do was wait.
*
You stood outside Yoongi’s front door, pie held carefully in your hands, breathing deeply, taking a moment to try to soothe your nerves. It was outrageous, you thought, that you could be this nervous. It was Yoongi. On the other hand, it was Yoongi. It was not every day that you confessed to harbouring romantic feelings for one of your best friends. It was not every day that you ripped yourself open and placed your fluttering heart before them, hoping, praying that they felt the same.
It was not every day, but it was today.
You squared your shoulders, shuffled the pie so it rested on the palm of one hand, and used the other to key in the entry code.
“I’m here!” you called as you strode in and shut the door behind you.
You tidied away your cooking stuff, creating as much space as you could. You stacked the drying dishes and equipment on the rack and your tupperware tubs on top of one another, full of still-steaming food. You looked around the room to see how many people were doing as you were: taking both classes. Home-cooking for beginners and baking for beginners. Just one cog in your wheel of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement.
A good handful of people left, their own tupperware clutched in hands or safely tucked into bags; a few new faces arrived. The last of these entered late, after the teacher had begun. You could see him scanning the room and you wondered for a moment if he was lost, the way he was frowning as if confused, looking almost shifty. But he continued on, walking slowly further back into the room, his eyes darting across the counters, looking for a space.
You waved in his direction to get his attention; the only space left was next to you (and you were doing your damnedest not to take that personally). You made sure all of your things were gathered on your side, not encroaching on his. He flicked his eyes to you and then immediately looked away but did eventually take his place beside you with a small nod.
You guessed he was about your age, maybe a little older, and you wondered what he was doing there. You wondered who he was, who he’d be baking for. His dark hair fell like a curtain across his face, blocking him from view. He tapped one slender finger silently against the countertop.
-
As you peeled the skins from your nectarines, you could feel him looking at you—not just looking at you, but watching you. You turned your head to look back.
“Are you alright?” you ventured, when it became clear he wasn’t going to say anything.
“Those aren’t peaches,” he said simply.
“Oh, no. No, nectarines.”
“But we’re supposed to be making a peach crumble.”
You shrugged.
“Yeah, but they’re almost the same, aren’t they? Except nectarines are nicer, so I chose them instead.”
His eyebrows drew together in a small frown as he continued to watch you disrobe your fruit.
“Gonna tell on me to teacher or something?” you asked with a laugh and he huffed an exhale in response, the corners of his mouth flickering up for a second in something that might almost have been a smile.
“No. I’m just not sure I agree.”
“Oh, well, in that case...”
You took your knife and cut a slice of nectarine, the blade gliding through as if it were butter. You held the fruit sliver up between you and he took it with his mouth, his lips just grazing over your thumb and finger. You swallowed your tiny gasp and watched his face as he chewed and swallowed. He said nothing, but cut a slice from his own peach and popped that into his mouth. Then he sighed.
“Yeah ok, you’re right. Nectarines are better.”
He turned back to his own station, head straight, looking down at his peaches, doing nothing. He tapped his finger again. You took your two remaining nectarines sitting in their bowl of iced water and placed them in front of him.
“You can use them, if you want.”
He looked at you with another frown.
“But you won’t have enough. You need these.”
You stretched across him and took two of his peaches with a shrug.
“It’s a trade. We can make peach and nectarine crumble.”
He grunted but said no more; he simply picked up his peach from the counter and carried on. After a moment, he grunted again: a small thank you. You turned back to your own fruit and continued peeling.
As you began to cut the flesh from the stones, you became aware that he was mumbling something; you glanced at him to see his head cocked on the side, looking upwards, thinking.
“Peachtarine?” he asked, turning to look at you.
“Huh?”
“Peach and nectarine... Peachtarine. It’s not great but I can’t think of anything better.”
You hummed and thought about it yourself.
“I think you’re right that it is the best option but I’m not sure it’s any better than saying peach and nectarine.”
He chuckled and shrugged.
“I’m sticking with it.”
It was all the encouragement you needed. He started talking to you first, technically. If he didn’t want to talk to you, if he didn’t want to be friends, well, too late, he started it.
“I was a little offended, you know, when I found out the first class was going to be crumble,” you began. “And next week is brownies, did you see? I get that this is a beginners’ class, but is it even possible to get this wrong? No one is going to be impressed by something this simple, are they? And what’s the point of going to so much effort if no one will be impressed?”
He didn’t reply but this did nothing to put you off. He had broken the seal and you were absolutely going to flood him with conversation. It was a relief to finally be talking; you didn’t do well in silence.
“I did the class before this one, too: that’s home-cooking for beginners. I’m useless in the kitchen; my bo- ex-boyfriend would gripe about it all the time. And now he’s my ex so I’m spiteful and bitter and learning to cook so I can show him that I actually do know how to take care of myself, y’know? Not that he’s going to know or care. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since I moved the last of my stuff out of our apartment. He’s really washed his hands of me. Which is fine. I get it. I would have done the same. But anyway, that’s why I’m here. Running on bitterness and spite but it’s better than being dead, I guess, right?”
“Are they the only two options?”
Your head span to him in surprise; you hadn’t been sure was even listening to you.
“I don’t know,” you replied. “Sometimes it does feel like spite is the only thing keeping me alive, yeah.” You laughed, harder than you really wanted to, trying to ward off any tension, to make sure he knew you were just joking. “That and now I’ve paid for these classes so I have to stick around until they’ve finished so I get my money’s worth.”
He nodded as he finished sprinkling the top of his dessert with brown sugar and put it in the oven.
“What about you?” you asked as you did the same. “Why are you here?”
You thought he wasn’t going to answer because he was quiet for some time.
“The women my girlfriend works with apparently all have husbands who bake them things to take into the office. I was asked why I didn’t.” He shrugged. “I don’t bake. Never learnt. Until now I suppose.”
“Why do you have to be the one to bake things? If she wants to take stuff to the office, can’t she make it?”
He laughed lightly, a little exhale of disbelief.
“No, that’s not the point. The point is that she wants to go into the office and show off that I’ve made her something. I never do anything for her apparently.”
If you had said it, the bitterness would have been strong enough for him to taste in his own mouth, but he didn’t sound bitter. You thought he sounded resigned. Maybe even sad.
“Yeah, but she could just make them and lie, tell them that you did it.”
“Oh, no, she would never do that. I’m not sure she’s ever picked up a spatula in her life.”
You bit your tongue because, until a couple of hours ago, the same could have been said of you. You were aware that you had been spoilt and were embarrassed that you were a grown adult who didn’t know how to cook even the simplest dishes, but, hey, at least now you were trying. And you never made your ex bake things for you or even cook if he didn’t want to. You could at least manage instant ramen and frequently did (which somehow seemed to annoy him more than having to cook for you). You wouldn’t have starved without him—you hadn’t starved without him. The bitterness you felt about your break-up leaked through and you felt unreasonably annoyed by this woman you didn’t know. You were broken up with for being an incompetent adult and here she was, with a boyfriend who was learning to bake so she could what? Keep up with the Joneses?
“So, neither of you can bake but you’re the only one here even though she’s the one who wants the baked goods. Hmm... Make it make sense.”
He huffed and you couldn’t tell if it was amusement or annoyance, then he ducked down to peer pointlessly into the oven. You took that as a sign to change the subject, so you thrust your hand out to him and introduced yourself. He looked at your hand warily and then took it.
“Yoongi.”
“Nice to meet you, Yoongi. Sorry your girlfriend is a dick.”
You knew you shouldn’t have said it. It was rude, for one thing. And you weren’t 100% sure it was true, for another. But your tolerance for romantic partners – even ones you didn’t know, had never met – was at an all-time low and, really, who gives a shit what people at work think? Who makes their boyfriend commit to twelve weeks of classes just so you can take a cookie to the office? You didn’t expect a response – a grunt; maybe he would turn his back on you; there was even a chance he might argue and defend his girlfriend’s honour.
He laughed.
“Yeah, me too.”
You weren’t able to stop the bark of laughter that rushed out and you felt a sudden rush of warmth for this stranger, this new friend.
“Well, hey, if you do want to break up with her anytime soon, there is plenty of spite to go around. Misery loves company; you know that, right? And I am fucking miserable.” You kept your expression bright to try to counter-balance the admission and chuckled lightly when he just looked at you.
His mouth was a flat line, expression serious, then it softened and his mouth twitched up at the corners. You were struck by how pretty he was when he let his face open, even a little.
“Here she is! Michelin star chef extraordinaire!”
“Shut the fuck up, Teddy.”
“Ouch, someone’s crabby this morning. Did it not go well?”
You plopped heavily into your seat and shook the mouse to wake your computer.
“No, it went fine. It went well, actually. I’ve made a friend.”
“Oh, have you now? A real friend or is this like every woman you ever meet on a night out where you sa-”
“Yes, a real friend and he’ll be a better one than you, I’m sure.”
“You are crabby! Are you going to fuck this guy or what? Sounds like you need it!”
“Kim Taehyung!”
“What? I haven’t said it for ages! So, let me tell you again: you just need a good rebound-fuck. Is he not attractive?”
You pretended to ignore him as you logged in and pulled up your emails.
“Not attractive, bummer.”
“I didn’t say that.” Your defence was quick, too quick.
“So you do want to fuck him! This is progress; I like it.”
“Will you stop? I don’t need to fuck anyone, ok? I don’t want to.”
“Are you sure? Because if you need it, if you really want me to-” Taehyung scooted closer to you and turned you around, resting his hands on the armrests of your chair, looking at you with his sweetest, most earnest and angelic face. “-I will fuck you.”
You cried out and pushed him away as he cackled.
“I would literally rather kill myself than sleep with you.”
He clutched at his heart as if you had stabbed him and replied in song.
“Don’t go breaking my heart!”
You wanted to resist. You wanted not to sing back to him. You wanted, for once, to not be one of the two most annoying people in the office. But you can’t always get what you want.
“I couldn’t if I tried!” you trilled back.
“Oh, honey, if I get restless-”
“Baby, you’re not that kind.”
You grinned at each other, knowing exactly what was coming next.
“Oooh ooh! Nobody knows it!” you belted together.
“When I was down-”
“I was your clown!”
“Wow, someone’s got that Friday feeling!” your director called as she walked from her office at the end of the room. She clocked you with a raised brow. “Might have known it would be you two.”
“Oooh ooh! Nobody knows it!” you cried after her before collapsing into giggles and, eventually, turning back to your work.
“I’m serious, though,” you said. “I’d rather kill myself than sleep with you.”
“The feeling is entirely mutual, darling, as you already know. My point is that you should-”
“Sleep with someone, anyone, yeah I know.”
“I’m not trying to push you to do something you don’t wan-”
“That’s exactly what you’re doing!”
“No! Alright, maybe a little, but I think it would be good for you. We’ve talked about this and I dropped the subject but now you’ve met someone new, someone who might be a good... distraction, rehab, palate cleanser.”
“That’s a gross way to talk about a person, Teddy.”
“Not if they’re on the same page. Not if it’s mutually beneficial. I know you feel like you aren’t ready for it but, honestly, I think you’re going to feel that way until you do it and, once you have, you’ll realise you were worrying over nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. I have slept with one person in the last four years. It’s not nothing to... to open yourself up and... display yourself in front of someone, some stranger.”
“You’re taking it too seriously; you don’t have to open up. You don’t even have to take your clothes off: go out in a short skirt, pull your underwear down, and away you go!”
“That is so crass. I have more class than that.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t.”
You sighed. A part of you knew Taehyung was right. You just had to get back on the horse. Like riding a bike. Maybe. But your bike had changed since the last time someone new saw you naked. And you didn’t really want to just fuck someone, anyone. You wanted someone to love you. And that felt about as distant a possibility as going to the moon.
It was Friday and you did not want to be made miserable before 10am.
“Besides,” you said, hoping it would put a stop to the conversation. “He has a girlfriend.”
“Ah, alas.”
“Though I don’t think he’s happy with her.”
“Oh dear. I think I see where this is going. Please do not interfere in this man’s private life.”
“I’m not going to! I’m just saying! I called her a dick and he laughed.”
“I’m sorry, you called this stranger’s girlfriend a dick? And you expect me to believe you’re not about to interfere? Just because you are bitter and alone does not mean everyone else has to be.”
“Hey!”
“I’m just saying: you’ve met this guy and you’ve known him for all of two hours and you’ve already decided his relationship is trash and his girlfriend is a dick and you would love for them to break up so that you aren’t the only one who got dumped, so that you know other people are also miserable and bitter and you can lean into those feelings rather than facing the fact that you are heartbroken and lonely.”
You dropped your head into your hands and groaned.
“Didn’t fancy giving me some sugar with that pill? It’s Friday.”
“So come out with me tonight and I’ll buy you a drink.”
“Buy me three.”
“Two.”
“Deal.”
Yoongi was late to the second class, too. You had deliberately saved the space next to you and you waved him over as before. As before, he barely glanced at you before taking his place. As soon as the teacher had finished talking, you started. You were not trying to interfere in his personal life; you were not trying to fuck him. You were just trying to be his friend.
“Did your girlfriend like the crumble?” was your opening gambit. “Not exactly something she could take into the office to share out, but still.”
There was a pause before he answered, just long enough that you thought he wasn’t going to.
“She didn’t eat any.”
You immediately dropped your sieve and turned to him.
“What do you mean she didn’t eat any?”
He shrugged.
“She said she didn’t want any.”
You blinked, buffering, trying to understand.
“I don’t understand; I thought she wanted you to take this class?”
He shrugged again.
“Well, she’ll have something to take to the office this week, if she wants it... Everyone loves brownies,” you offered, conciliatory, sensitive to Taehyung’s accusation that you might be interfering, trying to find the benefit of the doubt to give this woman.
There was no response from Yoongi, so you dropped the subject. It wasn’t often that you were lost for words, that you didn’t know what to say, but your mind was blank.
Well, it wasn’t blank, but you were not going to actually say any of the things that you were thinking. That his girlfriend was taking advantage of what was clearly a loving nature; that she was ungrateful; that he should stop trying so hard to please someone who didn’t seem to care about him; that their relationship seemed unequal and he was on the losing side. All sorts of things that you didn’t really know, that were clearly products of your own situation, things you were projecting onto this stranger and his girlfriend when you had no right to do so. You might have been right, but you might have been wrong and, even if you were right, there’s a time and a place for telling people the truth they might not want to hear. This was not it.
Yoongi cleared his throat as he gently tapped his sieve.
“So, what illicit ingredient have you brought this time?”
His smile was small and unsure; yours in return was wide, bright, all teeth.
“I simply do not know what you are talking about.”
“You don’t expect me to believe you’re just going to... follow the recipe?”
“You can believe whatever you like, sir. I’m just here to learn.”
As you spoke, you dipped your hand into your bag and retrieved a box of toasted walnuts. Not in the recipe. But, as far as you were concerned, a brownie without nuts was an inferior brownie and you were not about to make inferior brownies.
Yoongi chuckled.
“If you will look here,” you instructed, gesturing to the box, “you will note that this is really, far too many for just one person to use...”
Yes, you had bought extra walnuts just in case Yoongi showed up again, just in case he took the space next to you, just in case he wanted them. You had told yourself that it made sense to buy the bigger box; it was better value; you would have plenty left over to make the brownies again sometime... But you couldn’t deny that you were thrilled; he was here and talking to you and making jokes as if you really were real friends. You could already imagine yourself telling Taehyung tomorrow, smug and obnoxious because you had made a real friend like you said.
Yoongi grimaced.
“My girlfriend’s allergic to nuts.”
Oh.
“Oh.”
An awkward silence arrived and you did your best to shrug it off.
“Maybe next time, then. I’ll make a note.”
You noticed that he looked apologetic and you tried to take it in your stride. It wasn’t personal; it was biological. You weren’t trying to interfere in his personal life and that included not poisoning his girlfriend. It was fine.
You moved the box back onto your side and returned your attention to sifting flour and cocoa powder.
“So how did you like the crumble? I assume you at least tried it.”
“Yeah, it was nice.”
“I thought it was pretty good,” you replied. “The first portion anyway. The second was pretty good, too, but by the time I finished it, I honestly never wanted to see a peach or nectarine ever again!”
“You ate all of it?” His eyebrows raised on his forehead in disbelief, an incredulous grin on his face.
You blushed.
“I mean... not all at once. It took me a couple of days... You might say I could have invited friends over to share it out and you would be right, but I simply did not do that.”
He laughed.
“I did do that. They liked it, too.”
“Oh wow, look at you, Mr I’ve Got Friends Who Eat My Desserts. Some of us accidentally choose to eat an entire dessert by ourselves, ok? No need to rub it in.”
He laughed again and you felt the glow of his approbation like the warmth of sun on your skin. This wasn’t why you were taking the classes—you really did want to learn to cook, to self-improve, to become a fully competent adult—but you knew that, even if you dropped out tomorrow, if you had one more friend to show for it, it would all have been worthwhile.
You chatted as you baked; you tried hard to curb your impulse to steamroll over the conversation, to motormouth your way out of this new friendship. Yoongi was sweet and a little shy and you didn’t want to scare him off, didn’t want to annoy him, didn’t want your desperation to seep out of your pores and cling to him like smoke. No one likes stinking of smoke.
-
At the end of the class, you carefully scooped a still-warm brownie from your pan and wrapped it in tin foil; you put it to the side while you cleaned and tidied everything away, then you handed it to Yoongi.
“Your girlfriend might have to suffer inferior brownies, but you don’t.”
He blinked in surprise, his eyebrows slightly raised, his mouth slightly open, and looked down at your offering.
A sudden panic hit you.
“Unless she’s like, freakishly, deathly allergic to them and will die if you kiss her having eaten nuts or something.”
You shifted your arm back slightly and looked at him questioningly.
“Or, obviously, if you just don’t want it, you don’t have to take it. I just thought- since-...”
He reached out for the brownie, almost tentative, as if he was expecting you to whip it out of his reach at the last second. You didn’t. He took it. He placed it on top of his things and his mouth twisted as he looked at it.
“Thank you,” he said, his face more of a frown than a smile. Then he nodded, took his things, and left.
You weren’t sure what to make of the exchange. You felt like you had got something wrong, but you didn’t know what. It had all been going so well; you couldn’t possibly have ruined it, could you?
-
You did not gloat to Taehyung the next day. You kept it to yourself, a small needle of anxiety pricking you whenever you thought of that stupid brownie. A bigger needle pricking you when you thought about your next class.
Your anxiety was proven right. Yoongi was late again – as, apparently, he always was – and you began talking again as soon as your teacher had stopped but, this time, Yoongi didn’t talk back.
“How did the brownies go down? Did she take them into the office?”
Silence.
“Obviously, I can only speak to my own, superior, nut-filled brownies, but I was very happy with them. So happy, in fact, that—can you guess what I’m about to say? Yes, I absolutely ate them all myself!”
You laughed, a little too loud, heat prickling up the back of your neck and onto your cheeks as he still said nothing. You swallowed hard and tried to suppress the anxiety which was bubbling in your stomach.
“I tell a lie,” you continued, self-conscious but not yet defeated. “I did take one in to work on Friday for my best friend. He pretended they were disgusting but that’s just what he’s like; he ate the whole thing so it can’t have been that bad! He actually a- oh, wait, hold on...”
You had been operating on autopilot which for someone with almost no baking know-how or experience was very dangerous. You grabbed the recipe to double-check what you were doing and the silence felt stifling around you. You wished he would say something, anything, even if it was telling you to shut the fuck up. A better person might have given up. A better person might have understood his signal that he didn’t want to talk and listened to it. You were not a better person. The sick need for his approval crawled its way into your throat and spoke for you, made a ventriloquist dummy out of you. Even as you wished, yourself, that you would be quiet, even as you heard yourself, the cheer in your voice more and more forced as his resolute silence strengthened, thickened, grew around him like briars, warding you off, threatening, you carried on.
“He asked me to make them again, actually. I told him where to go because I originally asked him if he’d take this class with me, y’know, for moral support, after my break-up and everything—he is supposed to be my best friend, after all—but he refused, point blank. So, naturally, I told him he would not be getting to sample any of the delicacies I would be making. Then I went and gave him a brownie! Because, of course, I’d forgotten that I’d sworn not to...”
-
You managed to monologue your way through half the class, but once the fairy cakes were in the oven and the utensils and bowls washed and dried and you had nothing left to do with your hands, you gave up. You sat on your stool and leant on the counter, counting the seconds, trying to will the shame and embarrassment away. You were sticky with nervous sweat, hot and flushed, flustered. You were embarrassed and, in turn, embarrassed by your embarrassment; he clearly didn’t care, so why did you? You couldn’t answer the question except to say that you just did.
The silence was thick and crushing around you until the end of class. Yoongi packed his things with lightning speed and was the very first to leave the room. You took your time, fussing and dawdling, and were the last. It shouldn’t have crushed you. It shouldn’t have mattered at all. You didn’t know each other. You could just as easily have gone the rest of your life never meeting him.
But it did matter to you. It did hurt. Especially because last week had been so nice, so promising; last week, he had felt like your friend. And then you’d gone and spoilt it all, but you didn’t even know how. You had wracked your brain all week, but you couldn’t think of a single reason that that brownie should have ruined everything. It didn’t make sense; it made you feel lost and stupid and exposed and embarrassed and a thousand feelings that you had shoved aside in the months since your break-up.
You reminded yourself every day of all the things your therapist was trying to teach you: it’s ok if people don’t like you; you can’t please everyone; please for the love of god stop catastrophising your entire life (that one you paraphrased). But it didn’t really help. You were taking this one very personally and nothing was going to stop you.
[21:17]
Teddy 🐻: Not everyone wants more friends. Some people just want to get through the day and make it home.
[21:18]
You: Maybe.
Your phone buzzed again and Taehyung was calling you. You rolled your eyes; that man was incapable of having one single conversation over text.
“Besides which,” he began, not even pausing to say hello. “You said he might be having relationship problems. Maybe he’s having problems at work. Or family issues. Or personal issues! Or all of the above! You don’t know what’s going on in someone else’s life. Maybe he doesn’t want to spill his guts to a total stranger.”
“He doesn’t have to spill his guts!” you protested and you could hear the whine in your voice. “I just want to be friends.”
“And he doesn’t.”
Chapter Two
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Permission
Chapter 24
(Chapter 23; Chapter 25)
True Form Sukuna x Reader
Rating: Explicit
Warning: Graphic Depiction Of Violence
Please see Chapter 1 for tags!
Your Place
Sukuna starts to walk inside, you hesitate, but a fresh breeze hitting your back urges you to get going. The door closes behind you and you find yourself walking down the dark stairs. Soon the cold stone is illuminated by Uraumes candle. Following Sukuna, you quietly make your way through the dark corridors.
It’s silent.
No one seems to be outside of their quarters. After a few minutes, you arrive in the hallway, that you used to clean every single day. A weird weight falls upon your heart, as you go around the corner and see the door to your very own quarters. You come to a halt in front of it and watch Sukuna go further in the direction of his own. Uraume stops right next to you and bows their head.
“Welcome back and good night, y/n.” they say before they leave.
“Good night.” you whisper, bowing your head as well, before you turn your gaze back to Sukuna, meeting his eyes for a brief second, before he disappears behind the corner.
Trembling, your hand opens the door to your room.
A candle flickers next to your futon, some rice cakes are placed there as well. It’s tidy and warm in here. A new kimono and a yukata to sleep in is neatly placed on the covers. The lump in your throat is steadily growing, your mind trying hard not to let the tears flow. You sigh and gently place the stags fur next to the futon, as well as the dagger. Going to the bowl of water that’s sitting in the corner of your room, you clean yourself up with a piece of soap and after patting yourself dry with a fresh drying cloth, you change into the yukata and place the kimono aside. You lay down.
Uncomfortable.
You blow out the candle, before your eyes fall upon Sukuna’s kimono. A trembling exhale escapes your lips, before you reach for it. You look at it, stroke your thumb over the soft fabric, thinking about all what happened. Slowly, you put the kimono against your chest. Gently at first, but the heartache pulls at it. Unconsciously, you press it harder and harder against your chest, before you raise the fabric and press your face into it, hoping you would smell him on there. You do, next to your own smell and dirt and you’re not sure if it makes this situation any easier.
This situation.
This situation meaning just to be in a different room than him. It’s hard for you and you wonder if he feels the same. You hope he does.
He must be. He cursed me after all.
Lips trembling, you sniff into his clothes, as you allow to let your tears flow. Finally your heart accepted its truth and now you’re here without him.
What if I told him?
Would it be different now?
You sob and sob, hoping crying would make you tired enough to fall asleep, would make it easier without having him right next to you.
It doesn’t.
You ponder, thinking about if you should just go over to him. Getting up, you walk around in your room, the ache in your heart being almost unbearable. You look out the window into the night sky.
Sniff.
Your nose is swollen up, breathing is harder than it already is. The stars seem calm and the insects are playing their song, it must be rather late by now. Anxiety grips you by the throat, your heart rate increases and you keep walking back and forth, lay down, get up again, sit down again. You tell yourself to keep it together, since he’s not far away from you, just around the corner.
But he’s not here.
With me.
After two more hours of staring into the darkness, you get up, roll up the fur and tug it under your left arm.
Fuck it.
You open your door quietly, before tiptoeing around the corner to his quarters. The last time you did this, he was fucking someone else. You listen…
and to your relief, it’s silent. No moans and breathing. You shake your head, trying to forget what you witnessed here and raise your hand to knock. With a pounding heart, you hesitate.
What if he wants to be left alone?
Minutes pass without you being able to move.
He was already patient enough…
But I need him.
My heart.
Suddenly the door in front of you slides open, catching you off guard. Sukuna stands in the frame, still wearing his ripped kimono on his waist, as his eyes squint softly. Stern, red orbs piercing into yours. Your hand still risen to knock, your swollen eyes opened wide in shock, not sure what to do or say.
It’s not easy for you to read his gaze, if he expected you to be right here in front of his door or not, if he’s relieved to see you or not.
You swallow.
“I-I’m sorry, my King.” you whisper, as you avert your gaze and turn around, ready to walk back into your room.
“Come.” he quietly says. His words make you freeze in your spot, heart aching even more. A moment passes, before you turn around slowly, not daring to look at his face, while you walk past his figure into his quarters.
It looks exactly like you remember. The door to the gardens opened up, a small fire flickering in the corner of his room. The sheets neatly placed upon his bed, he didn’t even sit down on them. You wonder what he did while you were fighting with yourself these past hours, if he was as restless as you. Making your way to his bed, you roll out the fur on the floor right next to it, in front of his armchair and fireplace. The sound of his kiseru hits your ears, as he takes a puff. The smell of tobacco creeps into your nose, while you lay down on the fur, facing the fireplace and close your eyes.
You listen to him walking around in his room, smoking his pipe, standing in the door to the gardens.
Maybe he’s lost in thought.
Not allowing to let sleep swallow you, you keep listening to him and you feel, that having him near you, gives you so much comfort. Your heart calms down. His bare feet tap across the floor right next to you, before you hear him sitting down in his armchair. You squint your eyes open, see his feet resting near you.
“Permission to touch you, my King.” you whisper. Old words, that you almost forgot. He doesn’t respond verbally, just gently slides his right foot closer to you. The fingers of your right hand, so small in comparison to his feet, softly touch his instep, moving up, before feeling the tattooed ring on his ankle. Your thumb draws circles over his warm skin, feel him, before you let your hand slide down and place the back of your hand against the side of his foot.
Then you let sleep wash itself over you, feeling his warmth against the back of your hand.
You wake up, unusually comfortable. With the fireplace crackling in front of you, you almost forgot, that you aren’t in the woods anymore. You open your eyes. Sukuna still sits in the armchair right next to you, your hand still leaning against his foot. Looking up, you see him having his face resting on his right fist, all of his eyes closed and you wonder if he’s actually sleeping this time. His remaining hands are resting on his lap. So calm and peaceful he looks, while his chest gently moves up and down. Breathing. Even the air that softly escapes his nostrils is audible.
Adorable.
It’s probably best if you leave soon, before someone comes in and sees you. Quietly you get up. Standing right in front of the calm beast, you lean forward, your face inches from his, watching his beautiful calm face. Your heart flutters, breath stumbles, eyes longing.
I love you.
“Say it.”
He opens his eyes, as if he heard your thoughts. Your eyes widen, shock spreads in your gut, cheeks burning red.
Why do I keep believing he is sleeping???
“W-What?” you stutter.
“Your mind keeps knocking at mine when you look at me like that.” he grumbles.
Shit.
Your lips tremble for words.
“I-I was about to thank you for letting me spending the night here.”
He eyes your face, cocking his eyebrow.
“Quietly.” you add.
“Lie.”
“Well, I didn’t want to wake you.” your face burns red, before you quickly turn around to gather the fur. “I’m sorry, my King.” you mumble, bowing your head to him, before stumbling to his door.
“I didn’t allow you to leave yet.” he grumbles, as you reach out to slide it open.
“I don’t want to bother you.” you lie, without turning back to him.
“You’re a terrible liar. You were the one standing in front of my door last night.”
Just let me go before someone else comes in!
You sigh and turn back to him.
“Yet, you were the one opening said door, before I even had the chance to knock.” you walk back up to him, leaning in. “Perhaps you were the one who wanted to come and knock on my door.” you tease in a whisper, smirking at him.
His lip twitches, before his lips curl into a smirk. Your breath hitches, smirk fading.
Was he?
He nudges his nose against yours and opens his mouth to say something, as suddenly…
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Fuck!
Your eyes widen and your heart feels like its about to stop. Bowing your head, you step aside, pushing your back against the wall. The door slides open.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
Your heart is pounding in your throat, while you listen to someone stepping into the room.
“Master Sukuna.” Uraumes voice rings through your ear. It relieves you, sort of. You exhale, having not noticed that you held your breath. They walk a few steps into the room. In the corner of your eye, you see Sukuna placing his head back on his hand, eyeing Uraume, as they make their way into the room.
“Your presence is requested for a hearing. Do you accept?” they ask politely. Sukuna ponders, taps three times on this armrest, before he nods.
“As you wish, Master Sukuna. The throne is ready for your arrival.” they bow their head, before heading out again.
You notice how business is carried on like nothing ever happened, as if he wasn’t gone at all. The door slides shut.
Silence.
“They’re waiting for you already.” you mumble. “I should go.”
“You’re coming with me.” he orders, making your heart drop. “Get dressed.”
You sigh and look up to him. A short exchange of glances and without any more words, you go to his door, slide it open and leave his room.
Going into your room, you place the fur next to your futon, not even bothering to roll it out yet, before you turn to the neatly folded new kimono. Again it looks similar to his, white fabric, same obi, same dark blue edges. Deep red and black ornaments decorate the sleeves and hem.
He really is persistent.
You take a deep breath before putting it on. Patting the fabric smooth, you conclude it really does look good on you, his trademarks look good on you. It’s pretty and at least you don’t feel cold anymore. Remembering last night, the way he looked at you when you were standing in front of his door, you wonder if his heart was longing for you the same way your heart did for him.
Was he really about to knock on my door last night?
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Especially hard, frequent knocks on your door make you jump. You open the door and see Sukuna waiting for you outside. His side is facing you, as he eyes you from over his shoulder, nails tapping on the tattooed rings on his biceps, while his arms are crossed in front of his torso. He looks freshened up, his hair put in place. He wears his black sirwal, the fabric hanging low on his waist. He’s looking like a warrior, like a King.
He looks… hot.
You swallow and try to regain control over your face again, while your clit throbs in the same beat as your heart does, before you lower your head and walk out of your door.
Both of you make your way to the throne room, passing not one of the other girls, since all of them are probably already there. Your heart rate goes up, the need to flee knocks at your mind, but you suppress it.
For him.
Your feet stop in front of the door, your nervous breathing is audible. Standing to his right, you feel him turning his head to look at you. You look back up to him, only to see the stern look on his face, his mind probably telling you to keep your shit together... or at least you hope he would have this kind of encouraging words for you.
The door opens.
A short peek to the inside tells you, that all the girls are gathered there, exactly like the last times. Sitting and standing all over the huge pile of bones that make up his throne. The bitch is sitting on the left side next to his throne, just like the last time you were there. The new girl is standing on the right side.
…on my place.
Your heart keeps pounding, your stomach churns, before you lower your head back down. Sukuna starts walking and after taking a deep breath, you follow him. It’s silent, only the tapping of your feet are audible. The air is thick and you feel like a thousand eyes are piercing into you, while you follow Sukuna and climb the stairs to his throne. Climbing the stairs feels like an eternity and you don’t know what will happen up there.
I’m scared.
Arriving at the top, the girl looks at Sukuna with her bright eyes, visibly happy to see him again.
“My King!“ she squeals, as Sukuna comes to a halt in front of her, looking down on her.
“Forgot your manners?” his voice smooth, but intimidating. Standing behind him, you can’t see the look on his face, but judging by her fading smile and widening eyes, he must’ve given her a reason to fear him. An unexpected swing of his right hand in front of her face and suddenly blood starts squirting out of her eyelids. Everyone winces at his actions and you gasp in shock, as high pitched screams of agony and pain echo through the hall, while she falls to her knees and cries, holding her face in her hands, while blood keeps flowing down between her fingers.
“Stupid bitch.” he murmurs, while he sits down, smearing away some blood that hit his face, before licking it off his thumb. Two of nearby standing girls are quick to help the now blinded girl and carry her past you down the stairs.
“Shut her mouth and keep her in here. She may keep listening.” he says in an annoyed tone, placing his head on his upper left hand, his eyes shortly meeting yours. You avert your gaze again and climb the last three steps. Before you arrive at your spot, you catch the bitch looking into your direction. She squints her eyes at you, before you avert your gaze and kneel down next to Sukunas left knee.
Feeling the warmth of his leg right next to you, you try to wrap your head around what just happened.
Was he pissed at her for looking and speaking without permission or w as he pissed she stood in my place?
Whatever it was, he secured your place at his side and it makes you proud and you gather the confidence to raise your head a little bit. No matter how brutal and bloody it was, the constant sobbing of the girl, quietly echoing through the halls, kind of sounds like… music to you.
The door opens another time and you hear footsteps coming in. Multiple. It’s the man who was there at the last hearing, begging for support. You notice, that this time he’s accompanied by two other men. As soon as you recognise him, you shift on your knees, slowly turn around, so that your back is facing them. You rest your face against Sukunas thigh, looking up to him with a longing gaze in your eyes. He looks back at you, squints his eyes, before his upper pair of eyes focus on the men down there. The bottom pair of eyes keep looking at you, as you gently rub your face along the fabric of his sirwal.
“King Sukuna!” the man starts behind your back. “Again I am coming to you to ask for your support. The circumstances have changed…”
His voice liquifies in your head, as you start to concentrate on your King and your King only. Not listening to any of that insects bullshit, not listening to any words and your mind starts to wander off. You stare at Sukunas face, deep into his eyes, watch him react to what the man has to say. Once in a while Sukuna will look at you with all of his four eyes, pupils growing each time, before turning his attention back to the man. Well. At least half of it. His bottom pair of eyes keep staring back at you. When he looks back at you, there’s this feeling again. The way your eyes act like nothing in this world exists, except the two of you. The way they act like lovers… and you wonder if in a way you already are. Wonder, if he can be yours, even if he doesn’t admit to it. Wonder, if this curse of tying himself to you, can be compared to a kind of love… his love. The way he slit those girls eyes for just a happy stare, when he never even scratched you for looking at him without gaining permission. The way you are allowed to drown in his eyes right now, while everyone else has to keep their head down.
How can he be not already yours?
Mine.
You lean more against his thigh, close your eyes, the atmosphere around you being a blur. Once or twice you perceive Sukunas voice, talking to the men. A chuckle here and there. The colour of his voice grew so much on you. A warm feeling spreads in your guts every time you hear it. You could hear him talk day and night, his words, his humming, his grumbling. It kind of feels like home to you.
Him standing up for your place earlier, cutting that girls eyes, the pride he awoke in you, you want to give that back to him. Not giving a shit about who might see you doing this and who not.
At least right now.
You want him.
Placing a kiss on his clothed thigh, you regain his full attention. He raises his bottom left hand and puts it on the side of your face, stroking his thumb against your lips until you part them. You give his thumb a single lick, before wrapping your lips around it, gently sucking and licking the sensitive skin. His breath deepens, his brow twitches, almost furrows at your actions, while his lips softly part. Slowly the mans muted voice reaches your ears.
“Thank you, King Sukuna-”
“Get out.” he quietly orders, without breaking his eye contact with you. Obeying their King, everyone around you gets up and starts to leave. He retreats his thumb from your mouth and while everyone is leaving, you notice that the muffled sound of the sobbing girl is moving to the entrance to the hall. You conclude that other girls are probably helping her to leave the hall. Sukuna also notices and looks into their direction, flaring his eyes.
“I told you to keep her in here! She may keep listening.“
#permission#permission chapters#true form sukuna#sukuna#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#sukuna smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#true form sukuna smut#fanfiction#slowburn#sukuna x reader#true form sukuna x reader#true form sukuna x you#sukuna x you
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[Let's get physical! Pt. 1 — Abby x Reader]
[established relationship, fem!reader, fluffy but gets kinda nsfw by the end, jocker!abby, modern!au, MDNI]
cw: flirty times, nsfw memories, hip trusts
a/n: this was a request sent by @cottagecheese340! thanks for the request, i had the most fun writing this. i plan to post part2 as soon as i can! hope you enjoy it! (ps.: not me projecting on the reader about the social awkwardness)
not proof read (eng is not my first language, if something is wrong y'all can let me know!)
reblogs are highly appreciated!
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You almost didn't enter your apartment as your leg keeps pulsating with pain. Not only because of the physical difficulty, but also because you could already imagine your girlfriend's reaction: concern, and then she would help you carefully and spoil you for the rest of the night because you're hurt.
It didn't sound bad - it didn't feel either -, but you couldn't help but feel embarrassed anyway. Embarrassment got you there, in the first place.
Being a socially awkward person wasn't easy like some people think. Actually, it's hard to find ways to escape social situations just to feel a little more comfortable. Gym was an example of that: you've always had a hard time concealing with that environment because of the amount of people and the state of mind you'd have to get into - which was harder precisely because of the people around. So you didn't know much about gym exercises, despite needing to go there and do them.
But, hey, it could be easier since your girlfriend is a major gym goer, right?
Absolut, fuckingly wrong.
Asking her to help you was a hard time on its own. Abby was the most caring, sweet person with you, but… You're embarrassed. And not that you never announce your needs and wants, but that specific topic was difficult.
Well, that sore leg would do the work, uh?
Breathing deeply, you unlocked the door and carefully entered the illuminated apartment, trying your best to walk properly and not limp.
"Babe?" Her voice came from the kitchen, she was probably making dinner.
"Hi, love", you tried to sound chill and super not painful. "What are you doing?"
"Just some pasta and beef, thought we could use a proper dinner since I got out of work earlier today", her tall figure appeared on the hallway, reaching you in a second to kiss you once, twice. A small smile adorned her lips as she looked at you. "How you doing?"
"I'm fine", you smiled too, kinda using the hug to not lean on the sore leg. "And you?"
"Better now", her tone was so caring and flirty, it took a chuckle from you. "Were you at the gym?"
"Ah, I-...", you couldn't deny when wearing the same clothes from earlier, but you looked away and your brain malfunctioned for a second. "Uh- yeah! Guess I could try some gym time, y'know?"
"Oh, how was it?" Abby parted the hug, grabbing your bag to help you to the room.
"It was… Interesting", yeah, getting hurt it's very interesting.
You both started to walk to your shared bedroom, and as much as you tried not to look at her with guilt and walk properly, Abby stopped on her tracks and made your heart skip a beat. Fuck her sharp eyes.
"Babe, are you okay? Why are you limping?" Her hand rested on your shoulder, warm and careful as she was with you.
You hissed with pain when learning on the right leg to prove her wrong, ruining all the effort to hide the situation. Then you sighed, finally looking directly at her and supporting yourself on the wall.
"I kinda may have hurted my leg a little", her eyes widened at that, your bag being left on the table as Abby came closer to help you stand properly. "doing some movement. I think it wasn't exactly well done…"
"Shit, babe, come here", you leaned on her until reaching the couch, where you sat with your back against the arm of the furniture, stretching the leg. "I'll turn off the stove, be right back", she patted your thigh, running to the kitchen.
The seconds she was away were used for you to sigh again, trying not to feel too anxious. You didn't like to think that you were disturbing or something, even though you knew that was a crazy idea - the intrusive thoughts were troublesome sometimes.
"Now tell me how this happened", she held an ointment whilst sitting with your leg on her lap.
Abby didn't seem annoyed or anything, obviously. She just started to spread the mint-smell substance on the place you pointed when she asked.
"I was… trying to work my leg on one of those machines and then it started to hurt, I don't know exactly where I messed up." Your breath were a little bit short with nervousness.
"It's okay, it's normal. Especially since you aren't accustomed to gym props", her voice was so calm while the strong hands massaged the sore muscle. "Why didn't you ask me to help you?"
"Because I was kinda embarrassed", you revealed after some seconds, face blushing a little since you still had a hard time opening up. Well, if someone were there to support you and listen to you without judgment, that would be your girlfriend, right? Her and your closest friends were those people. "I don't like going to the gym, but I need to. And it's frustrating enough, I didn't want to feel like I was asking too much, or something, especially because… I have absolutely no idea of what I'm doing and it's even more embarrassing"
"Okay", Abby nodded carefully, locking eyes with you while her hands kept working. She remained calm, not wanting to alarm you in any way. "Well, I want you to know you wouldn't be asking too much. And that I will tell you if I can't help you with something, but I'll be here supporting you regardless and I'll do my best. Alright?"
The feeling of her palms on your leg were starting to relax you, as you nodded and breathed deeply for once.
"And look, I'm a grown woman. I think I can handle helping you and establishing my limits. What do you think?" She smiled to reassure you.
"I think you're right, grown woman", you both chuckled as she finished the massage. You held a hand of hers and kissed the back of it, caressing her skin as you rested the head on the furniture then. Your heart was calming itself gradually. "Thank you. I love you"
"Love you too, kitty cat." The nickname made you laugh. She started to call you that way after finding a picture of you dressed as a human-size cat for your cousin's birthday. The costume had orange fur and your face was painted and all. You felt funny but your cousin loved it.
"Will you ever let go of this?"
"Never", the honey-blonde stood up and rested your leg on the couch again, kissing you on the lips briefly, her braid falling to the side when she leaned over. "Now let me finish the dinner. We'll eat and then go bath"
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
A week later you both decided to go to the gym together. Abby said that it would be empty on earlier hours, and so you got out of bed with difficulty due to the diminished sleeping time.
It started to be a routine: three times a week Abby helped you choose the machines to work on and then she'd indicate the right way to use it. The woman would supervise and then go to work on her own series, still watching you carefully from where she stood.
You had to admit, with that silence around and just the two of you there, the environment didn't seem that bad. The rays of sunshine would start to enter the place more brightly, as the morning advanced. Only you, Abby and the receptionist were at that entire gym.
But, on top of that, there was another thing that kept you coming to the gym all those days.
The vision of Abby concentrated, pulling weights in different positions and machines, made you quiver. And even more: her care and delicacy while teaching you the movements and explaining the machines… That was something else.
You were a major simp for your girlfriend talking about stuff she liked and was dedicated to, but it didn't help how she looked and behaved inside the gym. Knowing how your body comfort was in her hands created a responsibility, a commitment to lay all the information necessary in the most clear way.
First, she'd show you the machine in general. Explain how it worked and the purpose, show you the gadgets, all of that constantly looking back at you to be sure of your understanding. Then, Abby would have you positioned on the machine and would instruct how to work on it, slowly and attentive to your posture.
"Your back needs to be straight, babe. Yes, just like that"
After her blue eyes crossed over your body to catch in every detail she could, while you did a series, Abby would smile and say "that's it, you're ready to go, pretty girl"
And you didn't wanna say how absolutely sexy that was.
How you needed extra effort to concentrate on her words, because the overall situation threw you off so easily. How her gestures and indications with her hands made you hold back enamored sighs. Or how her light touches on your body, to guide you through the first few movements, or just get your attention to the correct position, created little heat spaces on your skin.
That whole situation unlocked a new amazing thing to notice about your girlfriend, and you felt like a blessing fell into you. The sore muscle was worth it.
"Understood?" Her voice called you back from a daydream.
Putting to the side the thoughts that came from her so eloquent speech, you nodded and thanked Abby, before the woman went to carry some weights.
Looking from afar, you tried to concentrate on your series, working your legs. The image of Abby pushing up with the arms on her sides, going up and down next to her head, biceps flexing and abdomen and chest moving with breath. Skin getting flushed red and sweaty with effort.
You tried so hard not to notice too much, not to make your sights explicit, but then the minutes passed and Abby finished her series. And the blue eyes rested on you, a fact you took longer to understand than you were proud of.
Looking away and finishing your own series, you tried not to blush under her attention and cleared your throat, grabbing the bottle of water. Your legs hurt a bit, heavy muscles.
"Okay, what now?" You asked, resting a hand on the hip.
"Now rest a little", the blonde suggested with a smirk while using the shirt to dry her sweaty face, your heart skipped a beat or two at the vision of her abs. Damn her for still getting you on your feelings. "Wanna help me out?"
"M'kay. Let's see what you got", she chuckled, going to a horizontal bench now.
You put the bottle to the side, and when you looked at her again she was seated on the floor.
"What you want me to do?" Abby looked up when you stood next to her, propping herself with her back against the bench, hips out of the ground and legs separated.
"Sit on me"
You blinked once and twice, gulping. Phrasing like that you might as well do it anyways.
"Excuse me?"
"Sit on my hip, babe. Rest your feet on my thighs", she kept instructing you, but your mind wasn't really caring about the indications. The implications were on stake here, as you straddled as she told and felt your face getting hotter. "You can put your hands on my shoulders to balance", and you did so, her warm hands holding yours carefully. "Ready?"
Before you could nod, Abby lowered her hips and then trusted up.
You couldn't remember a time when you got that flustered around her, trying not to think about what that looked like, what would happen if someone got in the room, how fucking hot was the fact that your girlfriend could sustain your weight on her hips. Without permission, your cunt throbbed.
For sure you had an unbelieved expression, staring at Abby's face in order to avoid the sight of where your bodies met lower.
"Keep still, okay? You're doing good", you couldn't talk. Any words were thrown away from your mind right now, at least the adequate ones.
She kept doing that and you kept trying not to pathetically moan over that situation alone.
Her body was so firm and hot.
What the fuck was happening?
Abby rested, sitting on the floor for some seconds with you still on her lap, hands gripping her shoulders. "That was awesome", her voice was excited but also with a hint of something else as she tenderly touched your hips and continued. "We should try it more frequently"
"Yeah", your voice cracked, demanding you to clear your throat. "Absolutely"
And then the silence was too loud and consuming, just the two of you there in that position.
Her features caught your attention; blue eyes and freckled skin, beautiful lips and nose, cheeks and chin you loved to kiss. All of her seemed to call for you.
"Babe", her voice, the velvety tone that could take you to the stars, drew you back again. "Ready for another one?"
"Go for it", you smiled with effort to not fall into more fantasies right now, in a public space. "Let's see how much you can take it"
Abby's smug sent chills through your spine as she adjusted and then trusted the hips again, eyes locked on your with the most consuming determination. You held back a whine, breathing deeply with her.
"Fuck…", you whispered at another trust, moisturing your lips.
"What, babe?"
And just like that you mind flew to that time when she fucked you with her strap. When you cried her name and let out incomprehensible words under your moans, having Abby asking "what, babe? I didn't catch that" as the silicone object were pushed and pulled into your wet cunt. You remembered her panting and smirking as your tits bounced in front of her, as you tried to move your hips along because you were getting more and more heated.
"Abby…", your hips moved once without you noticing and then you froze, the foggy memory fading as she trusted again and you recalled where you both were.
"Yes?" A shit-eating grin denounced all. She knew exactly what she was doing.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
[divider by @froopis]
#abby x reader#abby anderson#abby anderson x reader#abby tlou x reader#abigail anderson x reader#abigail anderson#abby tlou2#abby tlou#deblklesb#abby x reader fic#ficblr#fic writing#abby fic#abby fanfiction#abby anderson fan fiction#requests
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East Highland's Notorious
AO3
Fezco x reader
Warnings: It's a euphoria fic, so just like the TV show warning.
18+, drug use, foul language, no smut yet mostly fluff for now.
Can be read here or on ao3. More chapters on ao3
Summary: You never proclaimed yourself to be a nice person or good girl because no one expected you to be one. If someone perceived you as one that was their fault. Life wasn't easy but Fez made it bearable.
Chapter 1
*Rue narration is in italics*
If there’s one thing no one understood about (Y/N) Stone, it was why she was friends with Nate Jacobs. Why would such a chill and down-to-earth girl be friends with a guy like him? Simple, they didn’t know the real her. The ones who were unfortunate enough to piss her off and face her wrath gave her the infamous nickname stone cold bitch. She had to be because it made her life easier. And you didn’t hear it from me but when she and Nate were together people called them the East Highland Notorious cause nothing good ever happens when those two were around.
(Y/N)’s parents were addicts. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her parents sober. Its why she tolerates all my bullshit and why she and Nate were so close. She loved wreaking havoc and creating chaos probably cause she couldn’t control the chaos that was her life. But with Nate, she knew just how to pull his strings and make him do most of the work for her while she just sit back and watch.
They also both understand each other’s hatred for their parents but (Y/N) had one nice thing to come out of her parent's addiction. Fezco. Cause of them she got to meet Fez and his grandmother. Her parents sometimes made her go get drugs for them and she would buy them from Fez himself or his grandmother.
They became so close that when his grandmother got sick and he had to drop out she was there for him and helped him out at the gas station. It gave her a break from her life. Not having to listen to Maddy complain about Nate, watching Nate be a dick, and from the waitress job that she hated. At some point when I was in rehab Fez and (Y/N) had grown even closer that she was staying at his place from time to time and her parents wouldn’t even notice. It was like this unspoken rule that she was his and no girl would be stupid enough to get too friendly with Fez knowing what (Y/N) was capable of. However, (Y/N) would never label it, believe it or not as ruthless as she was, she was shy around guys she truly liked and the fear of rejection was keeping her from defining the relationship.
I sat outside the gas station with Fez as he smoked a blunt with my legs laying across his lap. He exhales smoke in my direction with a smirk and I playfully hit his arm. “Stop.” I whine fanning the smoke out of my face. He takes my hand into his planting a kiss on it and I smile shyly. We hear footsteps coming toward us and I slip my hand from his hold and look up to see Rue standing in front of us.
“Thanks a lot, you gave me a secondhand high, and now I’m seeing ghost.” I said as I moved my legs from Fez’s lap.
“I’m not a ghost, dick.” Rue said with a laugh and I shrug. I go on my phone to find out where Nate is while Fez tells Rue about this new girl we’ve been seeing around and how Rue would get along with her.
“So like how are you feelin?” He asked.
“I mean, ever since I gave my life over to my lord and Savior Jesus Christ, things have been, like, really good.” Rue said and I laugh.
“Word? That's what's up.”
“I'm fucking with you. It was a joke.” Rue said with a laugh. “But low-key, is Ashtray in the back?”
“Are you serious?” Fez asked in disbelief.
“What, you think cause I went to Rehab I stayed clean.” She said and I shake my head.
“Well that is the point of rehab.” I said not surprised. I went inside the store and headed to the back. Rue couldn’t function without drugs in her system she was just like my parents. I fucking hate my parents.
“I thought your ass was dead.” Ash said as Rue walked in and she looked at me. “I didn’t start that rumor.” I shrugged.
“Don’t matter y’all come and go I’m just tryna stack my cash and pay my mortgage. So what the fuck you want?” Ash said listing off what he had.
“I’m sorry I have zero fucking idea what you just said.” Rue said. “Yeah, no one does. Just give her the one that’s similar to LSD.” I told Ash.
“Ok.” Rue agrees and Ash tells her it's 120. “Oh, Fez said he'd spot me.” She said and we call bullshit as she leaves.
“Fezco don't spot nobody.” Ash said.
“Yeah, well, it's a post-rehab discount, so you should ask him.” Rue said and I follow her. “I will go ask him, 'cause I know you're full of shit.” Ash said as we leave the back.
“What are you doing after this?” Rue asked me and I shrug. “Waiting on Nate to give me a ride to Maddy’s to get ready for this summer bash that Mckay’s throwing, everyone is supposed to be there.”
“Cool.” She said as we went back outside and see Fez selling to Nate.
“About time, thought you died in a five-car pile-up.” I said to him. “You wish get in the fucking truck.” He said walking back to his truck. “I didn’t hear a please.”
“Yeah right.” He said as I followed him. “I’ll see you guys later.” I said to Rue and Fez before getting in the backseat. “Yo, I’d do it for Rue.” Nate yells to Rue as he pulls off and Mckay shakes his head.
I listen to him and Nate go back and forth about the party and his mom being particular and blah blah. I become interested when Mckay brings up Maddy and if she and Nate were together.
“Cause she’s crazy, I don’t want her to come and burn my house down.” Mckay warns.
“I hope she does burn your house down, then your party will be remembered forever…as the guy who got his house burned down.” I said laughing and Nate joined. “This is exactly what I’m talking about.” Nate said focusing on a blonde girl that Fez and I had been seeing around town riding her bike. Nate slows the truck to her speed and rolls down Mckay’s window “Right here.” He calls.
“How ‘bout you come and ride on this dick.” He says and she flips him off in return. She loses her balance and falls off her bike as Nate speeds away laughing and I just roll my eyes at his antics used to his behavior.
People question how I’m even friends with Nate with all the shit he pulls but I don’t have the answer he’s just always there. Plus some of the shit he does is entertaining and yeah he was an asshole to me too but he was always a person I could call when my parents lock me out of the house or forget to stock the fridge. His family, no matter how fucking picture-perfectly annoying they are helped me out. Hell, the only thing I regret is setting Maddy up with him. I knew what Nate liked in a girl and Maddy knew I could get Nate on her radar, so I did her favor. Believe me, I tried to warn her about Nate’s temper but she swore she could handle him. Although, sometimes I believe she doesn’t know what she got herself into.
Nate drops me off a block away from Maddy’s house not wanting to come into contact with her at all and I greet her parents when they let me in. I go to her room seeing Kat and BB as well saying hi to everyone until Maddy faces me showing me her breast.
“Do my areoles look weird?”
At first I just look at her thinking she’s joking but realizing she’s not I glance down at her boobs. “They look like areoles.” I comment and she rolls my eyes not liking my answer putting her shirt back on.
“I literally look disgusting. Nate’s totally ruined my confidence.” She says.
“Nate’s a loser who cares?” Kat says.
“He’s not a loser he’s a dick.” Maddy corrects.
“Bottom line, y’all need to walk into this party like your pussy costs a million dollars.” BB said as she goes through Maddy’s closet.
“I’d settle for like four Corona Lights and some non-rapey affection.” Kat answers. “That’s kind of depressing.” BB says waving me over to sit down at the vanity to do my makeup.
“You know when somebody just constantly criticizes like everything about you?” Maddy says going off about Nate.
“Like every guy?” I answer.
“You just need to catch a dick and forget about your troubles.” Kat advises and we all look at her. “Shouldn’t you catch a dick first before telling other people to do it?” I said.
“Seriously, the best thing after a breakup is to fuck someone new and then move on.” Kat continues.
“Remind me again how many guys have you fucked? And cat-fishing don’t count.” BB says and I laugh. “Speaking of someone new, (Y/N)?” BB says and I raise an eyebrow at her as she does my eye shadow.
“What?”
“Bitch, come on we know you’ve been all boo’d up this summer with Fez.” Maddy says.
“We’re just friends.”
“Save the bullshit.” BB said finishing up my makeup. “Ok, so I'm testing the waters. Besides he hasn’t defined what we are and we all know I’m not gonna do it.” I said looking at my makeup in the mirror.
“You’ve been testing the waters for months. Quit being scared and claim your man already.” BB said. “Seriously, it's obvious he likes you stop being stubborn.” Maddy said and I look at her through the mirror. “Why don’t you stop being stubborn and take Nate back already, we all know you’re gonna do it.”
“Bitch, don’t even go there.” She warned ending the conversation in a stalemate.
We finish getting ready and get in Maddy’s car to go to the party. Now I may have seemed like a dick but I hated telling other people my business except for Nate and Fez. Sometimes Maddy depending on what it is. I avoided relationships at all costs cause the guys here are fucking idiots and it wasn’t hard with Nate around keeping them away. Fez was the only exception as he was my distraction from the shitty parts of my life, kind of I mean sometimes I have to buy from him for my parents. I know Fez likes me but I didn’t wanna ruin our friendship if we break up and end up with just Nate to confide in.
We finish getting ready and get in Maddy’s car to go to Mckay’s and on the way we see Rue walking down the street. “Slow down.” I tell Maddy and point to Rue.
“Wait didn’t Rue, like die?” Maddy said and I look at her confused. “Why does everyone think I started that rumor?” I asked.
“Oh my god, I hate ghosts.” BB said as Maddy pulled over.
“Yo, Casper you want a ride?” Kat asked. “Why, thank you.” Rue answers. I could tell just by looking at her that she was on drugs as she gets in the backseat with Kat and BB.
Arriving at the party Kat and Rue wander off who knows where and the rest of us go to grab drinks. I scope the party for Nate but my eyes land on a blonde guy staring at us more specifically Maddy. Smirking I get Maddy’s attention and casually gesture with my shoulder to the blonde and she gives him an uninterested look. “Don’t you wanna piss off Nate?” I suggest and she smiles deviously giving me the go-ahead. I go over to the blonde greeting him with a smile.
“My friend and I thought you looked lonely. Wanna dance with us?” I asked touching his arm in a flirtatious manner. When he agrees I take his hand guiding him toward Maddy and BB who were already dancing. “Oh, my god I completely forgot to ask for your name.” I said in a dimwitted tone
“Tyler.” He introduces looking directly at Maddy. “Hi.” Maddy says and grabs his hand pulling him towards her. BB and I dance around them and I feel a pair of hands grab my waist making me into contact with someone’s chest. I look over and see the owner of the hand to be Fez. “Been lookin’ for you.” He says into my ear so I could hear him over the music.
“You found me. Now what?” I said turning in his arms to face him and he smiles at my words. “Yo friends don’t mind if I take you away then?” He asked looking over to Maddy and BB who waves us off insisting it was fine. BB sends us suggestive looks as Fez takes my hand and I roll my eyes at her. He leads me outside to the backyard and has a seat on an unoccupied couch pulling me onto his lap.
Straddling his lap he connects our lips in a quick kiss before he looks down admiring my outfit consisting of a halter top and jeans. “Shit, look at you lookin all good.” He kissed my jaw trailing to my neck and I hum in pleasure at the feeling. I reconnect our lips, running my hands along his chest but our actions come to a stop feeling the couch shift as someone plops down next to us.
“Oh, hey Rue.” I greet.
“Hey, don’t mind me keep doing what you’re doing.” She says sounding out of it.
“Come on now bruh, you owe me 120 bucks.” Fez said and I reposition myself in his lap as we were obviously not gonna continue our previous engagement anytime soon.
“Man sorry, I forgot.”
“To be honest, with you, your whole drug shit got me feeling kind of uneasy.” Fez said. “Come on don’t go soft on me, Fez.” Rue said not taking his words seriously.
“I’m not. It’s just that... I like you. And I missed you, bruh. That shit at the beginning of summer had me scared as fuck.”
“Yeah, you and everybody else. Well except for (Y/N).” She said and I nodded my head. “Duh, you’re like a cockroach, you always come back.” I joked. I was scared for Rue after hearing about her overdose but I also didn’t let that shit consume my thoughts. There’s no point in worrying about someone who doesn’t want the help or maybe I’m just a pessimistic dick.
“At least someone had faith in me.” She said with a smile. As she continued talking to Fez I grabbed my phone from my back pocket and went onto Instagram to see if I could find this Tyler guy as I had never seen him around school before. However, as I am I hear a commotion coming from the pool, and giving Fez a quick kiss on the cheek I go over to see. I come to find Maddy and Tyler in the pool making out and Nate watching.
“Yeah that's real classy you fucking whore.” Nate says to her.
“Suck my dick.” Maddy responds making the crowd around react in her favor. I never meant for the plan to go this far but knowing Maddy I should’ve seen it coming. I hear Nate going off in the kitchen and go back inside to see him breaking shit in the kitchen. The girl who was riding her bike earlier was in the kitchen while others were clearing out of Nate’s warpath. “Hey man what’s going on?” Rue asked suddenly appearing next to me.
“The usual Nate’s pissed and he’s about to take it out on the new girl.” I said already filming on my phone. Rue nods her head and like everyone else nearby we watch as Nate starts yelling at the girl getting in her face before she suddenly pulls a kitchen knife on him making Nate back down. “Fuck, new girls got balls. Too bad she doesn’t know what she’s getting into.” I comment.
“Put the fucking knife down! It was a joke!” Nate yells and looks to me for help but I look around wondering why he’s looking to me for help. “The fuck you want me to do? Bitch has a knife and I’m not a hostage negotiator.” I said still filming.
She takes the knife suddenly cutting herself yelling “I’m fucking invincible.” Before backing away from Nate and throws the knife down. “By the way, I’m Jules. I just moved here.”
“Hi Jules.” I say as she leaves the kitchen. “Take back what Fez and I said, that bitch is insane.” I told Rue as I end the video and I go check on Nate.
“You sure know how to pick a fight.” I said and he glares at me. “Shut the fuck up.” He growls shoving past me harshly and past Fez who was coming toward me. “You alright?” He asks me glaring back at Nate before looking back at me.
“I’m fine its normal.” I reassure and pull him into a hug. “Besides you know I love chaos.”
“A lil too much. So like what's your home situation tonight?” He asked me stroking my arm checking if I was gonna go back home or not. “Sleeping over at Maddy’s but I’ll probably go home Sunday. You leaving?”
“Not yet still more money to make and I gotta make sure you leave safely with yo friends.” He guides me backward to lean against the kitchen counter. “You don’t have to do that.” I say kissing him. Our kiss started slow before his tongue slips between my lips and my hands tighten on his shirt bringing him impossibly closer. We pull apart catching our breaths and I stare at him entranced by how handsome he is but I am drawn out by BB calling for me.
“What?” I asked looking over at her and Kat. “We about to go, you leaving with us?”
“Yeah.” I sigh reluctantly not ready to leave Fez’s arms. “I’ll see you later.” He says kissing me one last time before disappearing into the party. I leave with BB, Maddy and Kat going back to Maddy’s. As we’re getting ready to go to bed I get a goodnight text from Fez and can’t help but smile.
I had to wake up around 6 in the morning to leave Maddy’s house and walk home to get ready for work, clean up whatever mess my house was gonna be in, and then get to work on time at 9. I was dreading going home knowing that the house would be trashed or my dad’s junky friends would be there. To my surprise the front door was unlocked when I got home and was repulsed by the smell coming from inside finding it to be spoiled food in the kitchen, while my parents were passed out on the couch, I think. I sigh annoyed and go into my room to grab my uniform and go take a shower.
Before leaving I pack a bag of clothes just in case I decide I don’t want to sleep here tonight, clean up the kitchen, and leave two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for my parents when they wake up. I look over at them once more checking if they were actually breathing before stealing my mom’s car keys and leave for work.
Now I hated working not because I was lazy or hated my coworkers, I hate the fact that because my parents couldn’t take care of themselves or me that I had to choose between sports or having a meal to eat. It was thanks to Nate that I got this job as his family eats here a lot like they have a usual table a lot. Clocking in I immediately get to work taking on as many tables as I can to get more tips and hopefully make the end of my shift come faster. During my shift, Nate came by the restaurant and asked to be sat in my section and I raise an eyebrow at him when I notice him.
“What do you want?”
“Who was the guy with Maddy at the party.”
“You gonna order something with that?” I ask and he sighed annoyed. “And it can’t be water.”
“What about a trip to the mall, didn’t you say you wanted a new wardrobe?” He offers. “Deal. His name’s Tyler doesn’t go to our school or if he does, I’ve never seen him but I found his Instagram. There’s nothing interesting. Hell, he might be in college.” I shrugged.
“That's good enough, what’s his-” He stops talking looking behind me and I turn to see who was there. I roll my eyes seeing one of my coworkers who was this annoying older lady, who for some reason couldn’t go one shift without having something to say to me.
“Can I help you, Susan?” I asked annoyed as I glared at her.
“It’s just really unprofessional to have your friends come by while you’re working and not or-”
“And it's really unprofessional to interrupt someone when they’re in the middle of a conversation. And you're not a fucking manager so walk away.” I said scaring her off. “I can’t fucking stand that bitch.”
After giving Nate Tyler’s social, he leaves and I finish up the rest of my shift clocking out. I count out my tips getting over 100$ which was pretty good for a Sunday. Reluctantly I head home to return the car and probably have to make my parents dinner. “Hey, (Y/N) how was school?” My dad asked from the couch as he watched TV. “It's summer break.” I sigh annoyed putting the keys back. “Right, right hey your uncle Bruce gave us a tip. My parole officer is coming by this week can you help me out?”
“Yeah. Just tell me when.” I said softly, wishing I was somewhere else. They could go weeks without noticing if I’m here or not but when it's time to pee in a cup or go on a drug run all of a sudden they remember they have a kid again. I don’t know when exactly my parents became like this I’m just surprised I made this far in life with their parenting. I order two pizzas for the night for my parents so they could have something to eat in the morning and after paying for the delivery head to the bathroom to shower. As I’m getting ready for bed I get a call from Fez.
“Hey Fez, what’s up?”
“Checkin up on you, hadn’t heard from you. Wanted to know if you want to come over, watch a movie or sumthin?”
“Or something?” I repeated teasingly. “I can’t, had a long day and I gotta be here in the morning for my dad. I would’ve loved to though.”
“What does your dad got you doing?”
“Oh you know the usual, gotta pee in a cup for his parole officer. Plus school starts tomorrow and my house is closer than yours.”
“Then let me drive you.” He offered. "No need to go out of your way for me. I’ll be fine.”
“Nah its nothing, let-” He starts but I interrupt.
“Seriously Fez, it's alright. I can take care of myself. Goodnight.” I hang up not waiting for him to respond. I didn’t want to sound rude but I stayed over with Fez a lot this summer and with school starting again I had to get back to my old routine and not depend on him so much.
Before leaving for school I hand my dad my bottle of pee and in an attempt at affection, he pats my head as he thanks me. I mumble a goodbye to him and my mom before leaving out and I come to the stop in my driveway seeing Fez parked outside waiting for me.
“Hey.” I said getting in his car. “Hey, pretty girl.” He responds.
“Shut up.” I said shyly as I looked out the window as he drove me to school. “I told you, you didn’t have to drive me.”
“I know but sometimes your stubborn ass needs to accept help when it's offered.”
“If you keep this up you’ll make me keep depending on you more.” I said as he parked outside the school. “That’s the point.” He answered taking my hand in his.
“Then I guess you’re never getting rid of me.” I said leaning in to kiss him. “I’ll talk to you later. Tell your grandma hi for me.” After getting out I meet up with Maddy and BB eventually running into Cassie.
“Oh, shit that's the girl who tried to commit suicide at Mckay’s.” BB said as we walked past Jules and Rue. “What?” Cassie asked.
“That is not what happened.” I said.
“Oh yeah I forgot, you guys was both fucking.” She pointed to Cassie and Maddy.
“Why does everybody think we fucked?” Maddy stops to say but we keep walking ignoring her. “Alcohol is not good for me.” She said when she caught back up with us.
“So you did fuck him.” BB said.
“Honestly, I think I blacked out.” She said. While the others look at her worried I gave her a side-eye. We run into Kat and I pull Maddy to the side while Cassie and BB talk to Kat.
“Being I’m the only one who knows better we both know you’re lying and did what you did to get back at Nate. So why are we lying to them?” I gestured to the others.
“Cause you're the only one I trust to keep this between us and from Nate.”
“You’re glad I fucking love you 'cause this shit might blow up in your face.” I said wondering how Nate’s gonna react if he believes that Maddy blacked out, especially with how overprotective he is. Deciding it wasn’t my problem we go over to Kat and Maddy hugs her congratulating her on losing her virginity.
“Damn, did everybody have sex at the party?” I asked holding a finger up to Maddy to silence whatever in-denial BS she was gonna say.
After catching up we head to class and I get a text from Nate telling me he was going to skip today and that he wanted to pay me back for that information I found on Tyler for him. The power of teenagers and social media.
I was hiding out in the bathroom sitting on the counter while waiting for Nate to come get me and when people would come in I would make them get lost, so I could be alone. “Find another bathroom.” I said when I heard someone rush inside and I look up to see Rue who freezes at my words. “Oh hey, Rue don’t mind me just killing time.” I said letting her come in.
“Keep a lookout.” She said going into a stall. “Got it.” I reassured. Not a minute later I hear someone walking in and warn Rue. “Hurry up, someone’s coming.”
“Shit, fuck it.” I hear Rue say before flushing the toilet.
“Rue?” We hear Lexi say as she enters the bathroom. “Never mind it's just Howard.” I said and Rue came out of the stall pissed.
“Are you okay?” Lexi asked Rue. “You are so fucking stupid, Lexi.” She answered.
“Why?”
“Cause I already flushed everything.” She said frustrated. “Damn, what a waste.” I said sarcastically still chilling on my phone.
“I just came to check on you.” Lexi explains. “I don’t want you fucking checking on me, what difference are you going to make? Gonna give me life advice? You gonna fucking help me?” Rue rants.
“Well, you’re one of my best friends.” She says and I try not to laugh at this pathetic scene. Lexi just couldn’t accept that the Rue she used to know is gone. I mean I guess it's sweet she doesn’t want to give up on her but I knew firsthand what a waste of time that was.
“You say all this but what happens when you knock on my door asking me to piss in some Tylenol bottle?” She said.
“Then you piss in the bottle. Cause that’s what friends do. They borrow each other’s pee so they can pass a drug test. At least that's how my family works.” I said as I got down from the counter. “Or learn how to say no for once.” Those are my last words before I leave to go meet Nate and head to the mall.
The mall wasn’t as fun as I thought it would be as Nate was constantly texting someone on his phone. Then he disappeared as soon we got there giving me some cash. I found him on the second floor leaning against the railing staring down at the first floor. Approaching him I match my line of sight with his to see who he was staring at and I see Tyler working at a kiosk. “So this is why you brought me here.” I said setting my bags down to lean against the railing. “What’s your plan to watch him until he gets off?” He nods his head eyes not moving from Tyler. “You’re insane.” I said with a sigh. “Watch my stuff.”
“Where are you going?” He asks.
“You’ll see.” I said and get on the escalator to go down to the first floor. I head toward the kiosk approaching Tyler with a flirtatious smile. “Oh my gosh, hi Tyler. (Y/N) you probably remember my friend more than me.”
“Hey, of course, I remember you, you introduced me to her.”
“Really?” I said in a faux bashful tone. “Then what time do you get out of here?”
“Not for another 4 hours.” He said and I pout at his answer. A customer wanting assistance comes up to the counter and I take this as my chance to leave.
“Maybe I’ll see you later then.” I said leaving before he answered. I take the escalator back upstairs to Nate and my stuff.
“What did you just do?” He asked annoyed. “Helped you out he gets off in 4 hours so it's enough time for you to drop me off and come back to continue your stalking.” I answered picking up my bags and head back to Nate’s truck. On the way to the truck, I noticed he started texting someone again and when we got in the truck I asked, “Who are you texting? I know it's not Maddy since she fucked Tyler.” He glares at me. “Allegedly.”
He shows me his screen of some type of dating app and I see his messages between Jules and shyguy118. “Are you catfishing the new girl?” I asked amused.
“Payback for the shit she pulled at the party.” He said starting the truck to take me to Fez’s gas station. “I don’t know if I would consider catfishing equivalent to pulling a knife on you as payback.”
“It’ll all come together eventually.” He said ominously leaving me intrigued. So I left it at that. Since I saw no point in going back to school for the day I plan to stop by to see Fez and head to work early to not waste the day. I saw Fez chilling behind the counter and he smiles upon seeing me and I smile in return as I lean on the counter across from him. “Thought you was at school?” He asked tucking my hair behind my ear.
“I was but Nate hit me up and we skipped so he could take me shopping in return for a favor I did for him.” I explained and his smile dropped at the mention of Nate. I knew Fez wasn’t a big fan of Nate but he was dealing with it as I was friends with Nate for a long time.
“Next time ask me, I’ll gladly spoil you with a trip to the mall.” He said and I smile shyly.
“Then what would I keep Nate around for?” I joked and outside Nate honks the horn as a message to hurry up and I roll my eyes. “And speak of the devil. Anyway, I just wanted to stop by since I’m going straight to work from here.”
“How’s it going at home?” He asked.
“Besides the empty fridge not the worse, didn’t even know I was gone for the half summer. Or that it was summer vacation at all.”
“Then if you want, you should come over tomorrow night or even stay over again if you want, if that's cool with you.” He offered.
“How’d you know I was missing you already.” I said kissing him. “It's tempting but I don’t wanna bur-”
“You not a burden.” He interrupts. “You been sayin' that all summer and I swear you ain’t. Just let me take care of you.” I can’t help the way my heart races at his words and it makes me wanna scream that he won’t make it official.
“Keep talking like that I’m gonna start calling you my bo-” Nate honks the horn again but this time holding it longer interrupting me.
“What was you sayin?” Fez asked after he stopped and I shake my head.
“Nothing important. Yeah, I’ll come over tomorrow, also I’m gonna get a bag of chips, so I can at least show I thought about him.” I said leaving cash on the counter and grabbing a random bag of chips I go back to Nate’s truck pissed that when I finally had the courage to try and define the relationship he fucked it up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After work when I get back home I go through my messages and an acquaintance from the cheer team before I had to quit sent me a video link telling me it's Kat in the video. I click on the link and it takes me to pornhub and I start to roll my eyes annoyed thinking I was getting fucked with before the video shows a girl getting fucked from the back. The girl being Kat or someone who looks like- Oh who am I kidding of course it's her don’t even have to see her face to know. I sent the video to Maddy asking her if she’s seen it and she sent it to Kat but she denies that it was her. All I can say is that with this video, Jules threatening Nate with a knife, Nate catfishing Jules in retaliation, and the Maddy and Tyler mess the school year was off to a chaotic start. I love it.
The next morning after getting ready I packed a bag for Fez’s place and made sure I took the cash I had earned throughout the summer with me as my parents sometimes went through my stuff looking for money when I’m not here. I put my stuff in the backseat of the car and went to school. After school, I walked out with Maddy, BB, and Cassie heading to my car but Nate and Mckay were outside waiting on them. So BB and I split from them talking for a while before I went to work. After work, I head to Fez’s house in the rain, and while I’m grabbing my bag from the backseat Rue arrives on her bike soaked. “You came all the way here in the rain.” I said shaking my head and she goes up to Fez’s door knocking constantly flipping off the cameras they had above the door.
“Hey open the door!”
“What do you want?” Ash asked still not opening the door.
“Ash let us in, Rue’s soaked.” I said and going through my bag to give her some dry socks or something as he opened the door. “Yo, who is it, man?” Fez asked. Rue goes in walking straight past him to his room and I give him a wave and sit on the couch.
“Hold on, hold on, you can’t be in here right now.” Fez told Rue and I wondered why it was a big deal she was here.
“I need some, some OCs and some socks.” She said coming out of his room and sits down on the couch.
“I offered you some socks when we were outside.” I remind. “No, you didn’t.” She corrects.
“Damn. You know, I thought about it, I just didn’t say it.” I said putting my bag down on the floor to look for a pair of socks again.
“Rue, I ain’t fuckin’ playing with you. Come on you can’t be in here.” Fez said interrupting our conversation.
“Look Fez, I’m fucking drenched. Okay? And uh… I’m out of drugs. So don’t be a dick.” She says making what she thinks are valid points.
“That’s not my fucking problem. You gotta get up out of my house before these motherfuckers come through.” He explained and I realized why he was acting like this. His supplier guy was on the way and when he came around I stayed hidden in his room but I don’t think Rue could stay quiet until they were gone like me especially when she wanted drugs.
“All I need is a couple OC’s and some Xannies. And why just me? You're not kicking (Y/N) out.”
“Maybe 'cause I was invited.” I said dryly. “Where are your pants?” I asked just realizing that she wasn’t wearing anyway.
“Look that’s all I need and I can be gone.” She begs.
“Yo, I’m trying to tell you, I don’t got shit right now. Like… Come back in a few hours, I got you, whatever you need.” He said but Rue still puts up a fight and they continue going back and forth.
“My guy’s about to come through here. I don’t want you here when he gets here, you understand?”
“That scary-looking guy right? I know the drill.” I said standing up to go to his room attempting to make Rue come with me but it was too late. His phone rings on the table and he looks from it to Rue pissed.
“Rue I could fucking kill you right now. Yo, Ash, they’re here. Look I’m serious, Rue just stay right there keep your mouth shut, and be cool.” He ordered. “These dudes ain’t fucking around.” He pulls his gun out from in between the couch cushions that Rue and I were seated on checking his bullets before returning back to its hidden spot. Rue and I sit back down and I glance over at her seeing a hint of fear as she realizes how serious Fez was when Mouse and his associate I always forgot the name of came in. And as they came in Fez sits on the couch across from us and Mouse’s attention immediately fell on us sitting next to Rue.
“So these your little bitches.” He said and I bite my tongue not to say something smart. “Nah bruh, they’re my little sisters.” He said and I looked to my lap to hide my disappointment at his words.
“Well, hello there lil sisters.” Mouse said holding his hand out to us. Rue gives him her hand and he kisses it doing the same to mind and I begin to bounce my leg nervous. “Yo, Custer toss me that bag.” He starts to tell Fez everything he has which piques Rue’s interest and I nudge her foot with mine shaking my head. Custer runs him the numbers giving Fez the total he has to pay.
“Sure you don’t want no Fentanyl?” Mouse asks.
“Nah, man I’m cool off that shit. There's too many ODs and I don’t want the heat.”
“How about the little sisters? You ever try Fentanyl?” Mouse asked turning his attention back to us.
“I’m a high schooler with a C- average, I can’t even spell Fentanyl.” I said monotone getting my usual courage back and Mouse laughs.
“I see lil sis has a sense of humor.” He turns his attention to Rue. “What about you lil sis?”
“No.” She answers.
“No, she’s good, bruh.” Fez answers for her. “Gonna let big brother talk for you?” Mouse instigates getting irritated.
“I don’t know.” Rue says looking at Fez. “Don’t look at him. Look at me.” Mouse orders putting a sample of it on a blade. “You ever try it?”
“Yo, for real, bruh. I don’t want her fucking with that shit.” Fez tries again to intervene. “I’m, I’m good actually.” Rue said.
“What don’t trust me?” He said and Fez again tries to intervene. “Shut the fuck up, bitch. Ain’t nobody talkin’ to you. Tell your big brother I’m not talking to him right now.” He said and brought the blade of Fentanyl closer to Rue’s lips. “Don’t be scared. It’s not gonna bite you.” Rue looks to Fez who shakes his head and I slightly nudge her hoping to convince her to say no again but in the end takes the drug which works pretty fast. She starts to lay down laying her head in my lap.
“You like the way that feels? You want a couple of patches, girl?” Mouse asks her.
“Okay.” Rue agrees and I look at her worried as he tucks the patches into her shorts placing her leg atop his lap. “It's gonna cost you 300.” Mouse said.
“I only have two dollars.” She mumbles and I look at her like she’s crazy. “Who comes with only two dollars to b-” I catch myself. “Not important.”
“I said 300.” He repeated starting to stroke her leg.
“Where are my pants?” She mumbles. “You took them off.” I whispered to her.
“I’ll just, just give it back.” She said but Mouse didn’t like her answer.
“I got a strict no-return policy.” He placed his hand on Rue’s leg. “Yo, Mouse let me pay for it, man.” Fez said.
“I thought you was too good for Fentanyl. What is it? Everybody’s changing their motherfucking minds on me? If she can’t afford it, she gonna have to find another way of paying me.” Mouse said sliding his hand further up her leg and I roll my eyes to reach for my bag.
“I’ll pay for it.” I said bringing his attention to me, thankfully causing his hand to freeze. “Nah, let me pay for it.” Fez said trying to stop me but I shake my head. “I got it.” I pull out the 300 handing it to Mouse.
“Dang. Your sister must love you. It's gonna cost 600 now.” He told me after counting the money. I roll my eyes again go back into my bag and give him basically all the tip money I earned over the summer. “You got a reliable little sister.” He said to Fez and removes his hand from Rue’s leg and finally leaves along with Custard. After they leave I go to grab the Narcan while Fez and Ash flush the Fentanyl. I put a blanket over Rue and grab her phone trying to figure out where to take Rue as she couldn’t stay here or at mine as both places were stocked with drugs. She can’t go home as her mom would probably kill her and Lexi wasn’t an option as her mom would probably tell Rue’s mom.
“I’m so happy.” Rue says although I could barely hear her.
“Well at least one of us is.” I said annoyed.
“You alright?” Fez asked me when he came back and I nod my head. “Just pissed I just lost a summer’s worth of hard work. I’ll have to survive off my paycheck… Again.”
“Let me pay you back.”
“Don’t worry about it, it’ll just be more money Rue owes you. And I’ll survive. I always do.” I said with a sigh as I kept scrolling through Rue’s phone till I saw Jules and called her. “Hey um this is (Y/N), I’m a friend of Rue’s” I explained to her that Rue was basically incapacitated and needed somewhere to stay as her mom would kill her and Jules agrees to let her stay with her.
“After I drop Rue off I’m gonna head home. I’ll stay another time maybe.” I said ready for this shitty night to end.
“Ar-”
“After what just happened I kinda just wanna be alone.” I explained interrupting him. “Can you help me with her?”
Not pushing it further he helps me carry Rue to my car while I go get her clothes from his room. He lays her down in the backseat and goes to give me a kiss on the cheek but I pull away remembering how Fez doesn’t see me as anything but a friend and get in the car without another word.
#euphoria#fezco fanfic#fezco x reader#fez x y/n#fezco x you#fez x reader#nate jacobs#maddy perez#rue euphoria
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5 Random Words Fic
Got tagged by @estrellami-1 and @i-less-than-three-you 🥰
Rules: generate 5 random words using this generator and then write something using those words! Tag 5 (or however many you want) mutuals to challenge! (If you don’t like your 5 words, try again. This is supposed to be fun!)
(Challenge/game originally from @a-little-unsteddie!)
My words: Capital, Something, Haste, Bandit & Neural (I’m switching neural to nerve btw)
There was something going on behind his back but he can’t quite figure it out. It was small enough that nothing was actually out of place but big enough for him to even notice anything wrong to begin with. Not that it was wrong per se, it was like something was being misplaced or maybe taken? But it wasn’t anything that important?
Eddie isn’t quite sure what to make of it, but given his place as second in command at the Capital, he needs to know what’s happening.
Wayne could possibly make him doing basic training again if he doesn’t figure out what the issue is.
“I don’t get it, Gare. Have you noticed anything?” He groans, taking a seat next to his friend.
Gareth shrugs, “Jeff and I did another round, found nothing wrong. Whatever is going on, it’s either being replaced immediately or whatever is being taken isn’t important to any of us.”
“You think it’s what, someone stealing?” He rolled his eyes, “Like what, a bandit around here? That’s impossible, Gareth! Ever since Wayne took over, we’re very fair and generous! If, if someone needed help we’d-”
“Look, you keep having that freakish feeling whenever this thing happens. There’s no issues around the place, nobodies dying and it seems like everything is in its place. So what could be going on? It’s gotta be a someone stealing and replacing it!” Gareth crossed his arms, looking at him with a glare, “unless you’ve been playing us and making us look like idiots for your own amusement”
Eddie snorted, shaking his head and patting Gareth’s arm, “I’m not, I swear, why waste our time with a silly game of-”
They’re both jolted out of their seats by the loud alarms going off, they quickly get up and start running.
“Do not say I told you so right now!”
Gareth snorted, throwing up a middle finger behind him as they run.
In their haste to find the others and the cause of the alarm, they failed to notice a person slipping by them and out the door.
They only slow down once the notice not just Jeff, Frankie and Chrissy standing by the main entrance but also Wayne.
“Please tell me no one is dead” is the first thing out of Eddie’s mouth, judging by Chrissy’s eye roll and Frankie’s snort, there thankfully, isn’t anyone dead.
Wayne’s serious demeanor breaks a little by the crack of a smile but still keeps the serious look on his face, “no one is dead, but there was a few things stolen. My boy, aren’t you supposed to be in charge of this problem?”
“Wayne!” Eddie whined, “I am, but everything so far has been in its place every time I check!”
The group all roll their eyes at him, “Not this time, a few pieces of jewelry was taken, your late mother’s ring and my grandfather’s near priceless necklace.”
Eddie’s heart dropped, their family heirlooms?! He could’ve sworn his mother’s ring was locked away in his room! “What idiot had to nerve to steal from us?”
Steve’s heartbeat was fast as he makes his way over to the next town, it’s been a long few hours but he couldn’t handle doing a trade within the capital this time.
Taking these pieces was a huge risk and he knew it but he needs the money. It’s his last time and attempt to make the offer, if the dealer takes and hands the money over to him, he’ll breathe easier and hopefully; his family actually survives.
He didn’t want to turn to stealing but after his siblings got sick, he had to. It was the only way. Their parents are shit and he couldn’t just stand around as both his twin and little brother got the worse and worse. Currently, he hopes at least, Robin is doing a little bit better. But Dustin has been in bed for a week straight now, even their Aunt Claudia can’t figure out what it is.
It was the last resort. He had to steal even if he tried his hardest to replace the items if they were worth next to nothing. Wasn’t too hard to get in and out of the Capital building anyway, with the Munsons being genuinely good and open.
It makes him feel a little bad for all the stealing. But it’s nothing on him panicking at his siblings health.
“I’m sorry boy, but this piece?” His dealer, Rick, jiggles the necklace again “it’s worth the money but I can’t accept it. Everyone knows it’s the Munson’s. I’d imagine they’re already letting everyone know”
Steve hope dies a little as he slumps against the counter, “what about the ring? That wasn’t even in the safe! Come on, Rick, I need the money!”
Rick held up the ring again, it’s a beautiful ruby with black gold accents.
He couldn’t believe it when he saw it, just under a simple glass case with no alarm attached to it. Not even a lock, just sitting on a shelf in the random room he hid in after grabbing the bracelet.
“Yeah this could be worth something, maybe a few hundred.” Rick nods to himself and slipped the ring back in the box, “deal?”
“Just a few hundred? But I need more!” The bills piling on their table back at home was definitely more than a few hundred, “are you absolutely sure about that bracelet?”
Rick opened his mouth, then snapped it shut as he paled. Dropping the bracelet on the floor and shoving the box away from him, “actually, boy, I can’t do either”
Steve looked at him confused, “what? You just said it was-”
He jerked when he was roughly shoved against the counter, eyes widening as he’s met with Eddie Munson. “Gotta hand it to you, managing to steal from us- from me, is impressive.”
“I-”
Eddie shook his head, a small ‘tsk-tsk’ coming out of his mouth. He let go of him and grabbed the box, “This? This is mine.”
His heart was beating fast, that ring was supposed to get him- get Dustin the help he needed. And now it’s being shoved into Eddie’s pocket, “But I need the money!” He blurts out and cringes at how whiney he sounds.
Eddie scruffs and let’s go of him, stepping away and crossing his arms, “oh, for what? Drugs? Payment back to some other shady person? You like all the other bandits and idiots?” He looks him up and down, “sure don’t look like them”
Steve looks away, his cheeks burning and his hands shaking. “Wish it was that simple” he mutters to himself, he wouldn’t be here at all if it was drugs he needed.
“What was that?”
“I said,” Steve shook his head, “I wish it was that simple, look, can I go? Rick wouldn’t take the necklace and you already took the damn ring back.” He grits his teeth, holding back a breakdown he’s absolutely ready to have.
Eddie frowned, seeing the guy tense up and red marks form on his arm from his own hands. “Uh, yeah, but don’t come anywhere near the capital building again. Do you understand?”
“Yeah, yep. Got it.” Steve nodded, blinking hard to stop the tears, already thinking; Not with Dustin’s health issues and Robin’s panicking. “Like I’ll be able to go anywhere” he muttered out, making his way away from his last hope.
He can feel eyes on him as he manages to hold himself together, putting off the inevitable until he’s out of sight and alone. Once he’s completely out of sight of Eddie, he lets the tears fall.
“Good job, Steve, you’re even a shit bandit” he huffs a pathetic laugh as he roughly wipes his eyes, “can’t even make enough to help your brother”
Making his way into the alley, he finds a spot out of sight to continue his pity party before he has to go home and figure out a new plan. Pulling his legs up against his chest, he tries to blink away the tears and hold his sobs in.
Hiding his face in his knees, he doesn’t quite hear the footsteps come up to him. Moving his head to rub his arm against his eyes, he finally notices the feet next to him.
Freezing, he looks up, finding Eddie Munson.
“So, Steve,” Eddie shoves his hands in his pockets, “I’m a little curious, if you were just stealing for drugs you wouldn’t be having a breakdown beside a dumpster.”
“how would you know?” He bites out, “my dealer could’ve left”
Eddie laughs, “yeah, I’m sure this is the reaction someone has after getting their fix. Come on,” he held out a hand and Steve eyed it, “I’m not going to hurt or arrest you.”
That didn’t exactly ease anything but this is a low moment for him, so he grabs it and Eddie easily helps him up.
“So?”
Eddie raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smile, “So, what?”
“Why are you out here, you already got your jewelry back and you think I’m doing drugs” he crossed his arms, ignoring how hot his face feels from both his breakdown and the fact that Eddie hasn’t moved away from him.
“I told you I’m curious,” Eddie shrugged, taking a step back only to lean against the wall, “I overheard you say something about being a shit bandit, it got me interested. So, what lead you to stealing?”
Steve mirrors him and leans against the dumpster, looking at him for a second before sighing and tipping his head back. Closing his eyes for a second, “It was my last decision, my parents are shit and my aunt’s job doesn’t pay enough for my siblings. So, I resorted to stealing because my brother is getting worse”
He refuses to actually look at Eddie now, knows the look he’ll get. It’s the same look he’s been getting for weeks now, almost months now. Always “oh you poor boy” and “maybe it’s time to give up” from neighbors and strangers alike because they think Dustin won’t survive.
“Oh man” Eddie whispers and Steve can only hear it because of how quiet it is in the ally, Eddie clears his throat and out of the corner of his eye sees Eddie shift, “Is he sick? Is he dying? That’s why you were stealing?”
“He’s not dying!” He snapped with a glare, his hands in fists, “He’s- he’s going to be okay. I just, just gotta,” his eyes are watery again and he takes in a sharp breath, “he’s not dying!”
“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Eddie has his hands raised and inching closer to him, “he’s not dying and I’m going to help, okay? I’ll help you.”
He shakes his head, let’s out a laugh or maybe a sob, he can’t tell anymore, “oh yeah? How?”
“I’m not sure, yet! But I can help, come on, let me help you.”
Entering the Capital building in the main entrance is a bit strange, especially after all the times he’s entered by windows and side doors. It was even more jarring to be entering with Eddie Munson.
“Eddie, who’s this?”
He nearly jumped at the new voice, looking behind them to find Wayne Munson coming up to them. He paled at seeing him, knowing he stole from this man and that his nephew is standing next to him who caught him stealing.
“Oh! Wayne, this is Stevie, he’s a new friend” Eddie spun around and pulled him closer to him, “I’m helping him and his brother out”
Wayne only raised an eyebrow at Eddie before looking at Steve, then he looked back at Eddie, “This the one who stole?”
Eddie gasped dramatically, tightening his arm around him, “Wayne! Of course not, I just so happened to catch him having a moment of weakness. Now i’m off to show him around and then we’re going to his place and-”
“Son, you ramblin’ like that gives ya away. What’s going on?” Wayne interrupted him, shaking his head and crossing his arms, “Be honest now”
Eddie felt Steve tense up as he squeezed his shoulders before moving his arm, “Uncle, look. Could we possibly talk about this in my room?”
Wayne’s face grows concerned, looking back and forth between him and Steve before nodding. Eddie smiles and grabs Steve’s hand to lead them towards his room, once inside Eddie only lets go of Steve’s hand to close his door and set the ring back in its place.
“Eddie,” Wayne eyes the ring and then at Steve who’s focus is only on the glass case again, “Ya think I’m gonna believe that ya just helping him out?”
“Look sir, I’m-”
“Wayne, I’m serious-”
Eddie and Steve looked at each other and Wayne shook his head at both of them, “Steve, was it? If ya did steal from us, be honest”
Steve paled and nodded, his heart sinking already. “I’m sorry sir”
“Wayne, we can’t punish him,” Eddie shifted to stand closer to Steve, “I have the jewelry, isn’t- can’t we let him go?”
Wayne sighed, knowing his nephew’s bleeding heart, “Steal anything else?”
Steve cringed, pulling his arms up to wrap around himself, focusing his eyes on the glass case to avoid looking at either Munson. “Yes, sir”
“For good reason, Wayne!”
“How much?” Wayne ignored Eddie and stared at Steve, watching as the boy gripped his arm harder and blink several times, clearly trying to get tears away. “How much did you steal?”
“A few pieces of jewelry, sir.”
Wayne raised an eyebrow and looked at Eddie hand up in question, “and how much did you get”
Steve cleared his throat, “about two hundred, sir.” He avoided their gazes but looked around to catch a peek, Eddie frowning and Wayne sending Eddie a pointed look. “I- I still have it”
“Steve no,” Eddie took a step closer, “Wayne you don’t- Wayne, his brother is sick. He needs the money and the stuff he stole- they aren’t that important to us”
It was silent and Eddie felt his face get hot, he looked away from Steve and back at his uncle, “it’s okay, I swear, the dealer he was selling to is caught- he’s being arrested as we speak. I have the pieces we cherish most back. Now,” he spins back around not waiting for Wayne’s response, “I’m going to help Steve and his family, got it?”
Three Months Later
There was something going on, Eddie can already tell and a smile is forming as the giggling behind him gets louder. He’s not sure what it is but he can’t wait to find out what it is.
The giggling is right behind him and he spins, his face breaking into a wide smile at the brothers in a pose to grab him standing there. Robin and Jeff next to them rolling their eyes but smiling.
“My loves!”
Steve and Dustin grinning wide as Eddie throws his arms around them, holding them close and his smile is starting to hurt his face as Steve presses a kiss to his cheek.
~~~
So. Uh. This wasn’t supposed to be this long and if I keep going it won’t stop. So! Here’s a thing that doesn’t have an exact time period, it’s definitely not set in the 80s and I went and switched roles up. OH AND IMPORTANT INFORMATION: Steve & Robin are a year apart, Dustin is the baby of the family. Don’t ask me what his issue was it was serious tho. Eddie’s a few years older than Steve. They got together only once Dustin was completely healthy. Eddie totally fell first and Steve wasn’t very far behind him. (Eddie also fell harder toooo)
Also I know the ending is kinda blah haha sorry like I said it wouldn’t end 🤣
No pressure tags: @simplebtromance @tartarusknight @zerokrox-blog @steddieas-shegoes @eriquin
TAGLIST:
@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @bookworm0690 @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @grimmfitzz @strangersteddierthings
#steddie#steddie fic#steve x eddie#nburkhardt writes#stranger things fic#steddie au#seriously sorry for that chopped ending#I was seriously losing the plot#it’s a weird vibe tbh#steve harrington#eddie munson
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Ik you just did this but can you do more regressor tomas with CG Johnny and Kenshi plss🙏🙏
THESE THREE CONSUME MY THOUGHTS AT EVERY WAKIJG MOMENT OF COURSE YOU CAN!!! <3 <3 <3
CG Johnny & Kenshi w/ Regressor Tomas
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
💨 Tomas can be a bit shy while regressing, really shy honestly
⭐️ ^ But over time he's become a lot more comfy being small around them
❤️ The only ‘problem’ be still has is that he still gets really shy baby regressing (restating but he regresses from about 1-4, and puppyspace)
💨 Mostly since he becomes very vulnerable and dependent in his babyspace, but he's slowly getting there
⭐️ Johnny and Kenshi ADORE Tomas when he small
❤️ Babyspace? Oh my goodness, he's so adorable, Kenshi!! Toddler? Johnny, Tomas drew me a picture and now we need to frame it. Puppyspace? My my, what a fierce little guy we have!!
💨 Tomas a small problem of pushing off his regression to the point that he involuntarily regresses, most times to babyspace, and desperately needs someone at his side
⭐️ Unfortunately most times Johnny and Kenshi are really busy, but they'll have Kuai Liang or Harumi or whoever with Tomas call them
❤️ Tomas is usually good with technology, but has a bad habit of gasping when he sees them and hitting the phone by trying to grab it, and ending the call by accident
💨 Que to him cryingly giving whoever watching him the phone so he can call them back, he's very upset that Daddy or Dada disappeared on him like that and will make sure to inform them >:(
⭐️ If he's a big bigger and regresses at the Shirai Ryu or Lin Kuei, they'll still do mostly facetime or Skype
❤️ If he regresses with them, most times at Cage's mansion, he get babied to the MAX
💨 Whether hes actually baby or not, he gets so, so spoiled
⭐️ Tomas eyed a new sippy cup? Oh, well it looks like Johnny got it already, and a bottle to go with it
❤️ Kenshi knows Tomas can easily walk or waddle, but its just easier to pick him up and carry him, isn't it?
💨 Johnny favorite activity is pinching Tomas's cheeks like a grandma and it makes Tomas so fussy and whiney
⭐️ Kenshi's favorite activity is when Tomas hides his face in his chest because he Johnny pinched his cheeks and now he has to hide his face from him >:(
❤️ Sometimes Tomas will babble and then hide in one of their shoulders, and he becomes really blushy and giggly afterwards because he's embarressed
💨 Johnny mainl nicknames for Tomas are Kiddo, Baby Boy, Smokey, Smokey Bear, Puppy, Sweetie, Tommy, and so, so many more
⭐️ Kenshi's main nicknames for Tomas are ‘Hun and Precious, sometimes he'll steal some from Johnny
❤️ Tomas calls Johnny ‘Daddy’ and Kenshi ‘Dada’
💨 Tomas really likes Kenshi's sword when he's small but will try to chew on it and pouts when it gets snatched from him
⭐️ Luckily though, Johnny can easily place his sunglasses on Tomas's face and Tomas has a new favorite item (will also try to put it in his mouth, but mainly likes judt wearing them)
❤️ Tomas really likes playing dress up with Johnny and Johnny adores jt!!!
💨 He can put Tomas into the cutest outfits if hes smaller, but if his about 4, he'll dress up in some of Johnny's old movie outfits
⭐️ And they'll have a mini photo shoot too!!! Johnny sometimes can convince Tomas to let him take really nice pictures of him doing certain poses from old movies (and they're like, nice professional photos with good lighting too, Johnny has a section dedicated for when he takes his own photos)
❤️ Luckily though, Johnny isn't as fussy about them being as perfect like he would be if Tomas wasn't regressed, he gets that they're just having fun
💨 Sometimes Tomas will dress as Johnny or Kenshi and try to act like them and gets very giggly if they cross their arms and give him the look
⭐️ Kenshi's really likes watching a movie and cuddling when Tomas is little, mostly because he can hold his baby for hours with little to no fuss
❤️ Personally, Tomas's favorite movies are almost every and all of Johnny's flicks, but Kenshi decided that he was too young for most of them >:( (too much gore or fighting that makes Tomas get really upset and start blubbering, asking if Daddy was going to be okay because he got beat up on screen 🥺)
💨 Tomas will insist that Kenshi picks most times, bjt Kenshi almost always persuades Tomas to tell him what he really wants to watch and then recomend that
⭐️ He doesnt actually care about the movie part himself, more that Tomas gets super clingy and will share his yummy snacks
❤️ Tomas knows he can get a reaction out of Johnny, and he'll use it to his advantage
💨 He’ll have Johnny open some oreos, then steal the whole container, and then offer Kenshi one and giggle as Johnny pouts about not getting any
⭐️ Johnny knows Tomas likes his facial reactions, and will over do them sometimes just for him
❤️ If Tomas does do something naughty and he's a bit bigger, Kenshi's usually the one to set his foot down
💨 Mostly because Johnny will let a lot of matters drop
⭐️ One look of ‘🥺’ and Johnny will fix up Tomas's mess and tell him why he can't do it again
❤️ Meanwhile Kenshi will help Tomas fix his mess and explain why he can't do such and such
💨 I'm totally not prompting my ao3 again, (id never do that you have no proof >:3), but there was a time period where Tomas refused to regress with anyone because they were all busy and he firmly believed that that meant he was wasting their time by regressing
⭐️ When the Kenshi and Johnny finally found out about they, they were actually so sad that they didn't realize beforehand
❤️ They just thought Tomas had a hard time regressing and got him some regressing items and it made Tomas break down
💨 It also kinda made Johnny break down because it reminded him of his time with Cris and how alone he felt while small
⭐️ Don't worry, everything's better now, and Tomas is getting better on communication <3
❤️ They think Tomas is the funniest thing when he's puppy regressed
💨 Mostly because he'll go from chewing on his stuffie, to trying to pounce the pillow because it looked at him funny, to falling off the couch because his hand slipped
⭐️ (^ He was okay, he just pouted as both Johnny and Kenshi laughed, the meanies)
❤️ One time Tomas was nawing on Kenshi's arm and Kenshi was totally fine with it until Tomas bite slightly too hard and Kenshi had a bite mark for a good few hours
💨 It also made Tomas absolutely blubber and apologize a million times because he didn't mean to!! He was just trying to mess around, he didn't wanna hurt Dada on purpose 🥺
⭐️ Luckily no true hard was done but Tomas was no longer allowed to naw on Kenshi's arm (he pouted but understood that he could hurt Dada again and didn't protest much)
❤️ Luckily though, Johnny got Tomas his first baby chewing toy and Tomas absolutely loved it
💨 Hates to admit it, but gets to distract when things jingle above him
⭐️ He could be pouting about being unable to have a sweet or because he did something naughty and got in a bit of trouble, and Kenshi will jingle his keys and suddenly Tomas thinks has a new toy to play with
❤️ Anything they jingle will become his until he finds something new that's his (found that out the hard way when they tried to take back Kenshi's keys)
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
Y'all I got so many more just of them, it's crazy. I like Smokencage so much 🥺
#age regression#agere#sfw age regression#age regression headcanons#mortal kombat agere#sfw agere#mk1#mk1 headcanons#mortal kombat 1 headcanons#mk agere#kenshi takahashi#Johnny cage#tomas vrbada#Smokencage#cagesmoke#smokenshi#cg Johnny cage#little tomas vrbada#cg kenshi takahashi#caregiver kenshi takahashi#caregiver Johnny cage#mk kenshi#mk tomas vrbada#mk johnny cage#johnshi
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The psychological paradoxes of Utsukushii Kare, part 1: Covert grandiosity and finding status through idealization
I’ve had some thoughts about Utsukushii Kare bouncing around in my head since the end of season 2. I started to post about them back then but my first attempts stalled out. Maybe the ideas involved were too complex, or I just needed to let them marinate a bit longer. I tried to give up on getting them on “paper,” but they just wouldn’t leave me alone. Eventually I returned to them and everything clicked. This is part one of my attempt to get those ideas down. After a ridiculous amount of tinkering, it seems like the right time to let it see the light of day. Subsequent posts are in different stages of readiness as well.
I wouldn’t have finished this without copious encouragement and feedback from @lurkingshan and specific edits from @wen-kexing-apologist. A kind comment from @nieves-de-sugui was a shot in the arm. And I’m always indebted to @porridgefeast for support, encouragement, and cute animal content.
I’ve written a lot about this series in the past; refer to my Utsukare master post for a continuously updated list. This includes some related posts on pursuer/distancer dynamics and attachment style in the series that have some overlap with what I’m discussing here, but this post should also stand on its own quite well.
A few things to note at the outset:
My focus here is on the series (both seasons), but I will refer to the movie, the novel, and a couple of vignettes when they illustrate points that are consistent with and relevant to the series.
My approach in this series of posts involves viewing fictional characters the way I would if they were real people--a bit like if I were to do a case conceptualization of a potential client. This isn’t always the approach I use, or the best one, but I thought it was a good fit for what I wanted to discuss here.
Quotes will be cited, but general information on sources will be given at the end of the post.
Now, to get down to business.
* * * * * * *
I’ve seen a lot of commentary from other Utsukare fans about Hira and Kiyoi and how much their self-worth–and the lack thereof–impacts their relationship. It’s a clear theme and lots of folks have had salient insights about it. But one thing I haven’t seen in any of the posts I’ve read is a full acknowledgement of the duality at play there–the way that both characters sometimes believe, or at least fear, that they’re irredeemably awful and at the same time believe, or perhaps hope, that they are better than everyone else.
I’m sure someone reading this is thinking, “Kiyoi is like that, sure. But Hira? Thinking he’s superior? Come on.” I get that it isn’t always apparent. In a genre that loves to portray profoundly smitten, devoted characters, Hira stands out as intensely, even excessively, whipped. But yes, Hira totally sees himself as superior to others in some important ways. Even before Noguchi Hiromi took his inventory about this so mercilessly, there were plenty of other signs.
covert grandiosity and idealization
Our introduction to Hira is his description of the “pyramid” social structure he experiences at school and how he’s at the lowest level of that pyramid (invisible at best, a visible target at worst). At first glance, this seems self-deprecating. But Hira is just describing where he falls in the structure, not endorsing the structure or his place in it. This sets up an important distinction that comes up continually in Hira’s thinking. Sometimes he really thinks badly of himself. But other times, he’s reporting how, in his view at least, others think of him. Sometimes he’s resigned to the ways others see him, but other times, he rebels against them. He doesn’t always make it clear which of these things he’s doing at a given time, but if you know what to look for it starts to be easier to pick out.
Mind you, it’s still very clear that there are ways in which Hira does view himself extremely negatively. His belief that he’s unworthy of Kiyoi is particularly strong. It inspires a lot of demeaning metaphors about himself, like calling himself a “pebble.” His belief in his unworthiness is linked to the belief that Kiyoi can’t possibly return his feelings or that if he does, it’s a bizarre miracle that can’t possibly last over the long term. The most remarkable thing about this belief is its incredible persistence, even in the face of example after example of evidence that Kiyoi loves and values him too and wants them to stay together. But denigrating himself in this context has a different meaning from what it would in others, as I'll get into in more detail shortly.
It’s a pretty universal human tendency to pay more attention to information that confirms our biases than information that challenges them. We’re also hard-wired to be more attentive to perceived threats (including threats to our sense of self-worth) than we are to less threatening things (and ideas). Both of these tendencies contribute to the fact that most of us fail to notice when our negative beliefs are being disproven.
I’ll be discussing this in more depth in part 2, but for now, I’ll just say that resistance to disproving a negative belief is very normal, but Hira’s stubbornness is way beyond what’s typical. He continually misinterprets or simply ignores clear signs of Kiyoi’s interest in and regard for him. I mean, most of us, no matter how poor our self-esteem is, no matter how jaded and pessimistic we are, would, if kissed by someone we’re in love with, at least entertain the possibility that they might like us a little bit. Not only does Hira not consider this possibility, he comes up with the rather bizarre interpretation that the graduation day kiss was Kiyoi’s way of telling him to leave him alone.
So, why would anyone be as stubbornly negative on this point as Hira is? Part of it is the strength of his negative beliefs and the degree of his bias. But there’s another reason as well, one I’m going to circle back to in a moment.
First, let’s look at Noguchi’s assessment of Hira in season 2, episode 4, which is very pertinent here. Talking about Hira’s submission to the Young Photographica contest, Noguchi says:
It was such a childish photo. You should've just chosen an empty place rather than erasing people. Going out of your way to [erase] people made it very clear that you hate this world. What I felt from your photo was tremendous selfishness and disgust. You haven't succeeded at all, but you think you're amazing. But instead of showing it outright, you make a shell by belittling yourself. You look down on this world with youth, stupidity, and ambiguity….You're just like the old me.
(dialogue from Viki subtitles)
It’s a little bit of a stretch, I think, to suggest that Noguchi can really tell all of this just by looking at a single photo (or even Hira’s entire portfolio). I think this partly happens just for the convenience of the story. But if I had to justify it, I’d say Noguchi has this much insight because, as he says, he used to be like Hira, making this a “takes one to know one” situation.
Hira confirms that Noguchi is correct here. “It’s like he sees right through me,” he thinks. So how do we reconcile this with Hira’s apparent negative self-image? Well, first off, it’s not unusual at all for very negative and excessively positive beliefs about the self to coexist in the same person. Take narcissism for example. People tend to think of narcissists as grandiose, thinking they’re amazing and special to a degree that’s clearly distorted. And that is one of the key symptoms of narcissism. But it’s also typical for narcissists to believe that if they aren’t remarkably special, they’re totally worthless. They have a hard time sitting with moderate (hence realistic) beliefs about themselves.
This kind of narcissistic tendency is really strong in people with Narcissistic Personality Disorder, but it’s present in a milder version in a lot of people (I suspect it’s present in most people, to some extent and under certain circumstances). Narcissistic personality traits are supposed to be linked to getting stuck at a developmental stage that ideally gets worked through during childhood. But a lot of us have at least a little bit of unfinished business from that period. I think Hira has a ton of unresolved stuff in this area. I definitely don’t think he would meet criteria for NPD. But I think that when he was in that developmental stage, he came up with some maladaptive strategies that helped him to get through it. As a result, he didn’t get stuck in the full-blown grandiose version of NPD, but he did get stuck with those maladaptive strategies, and they became a part of his personality instead. And he did retain 1) some of that highly polarized idea of self-worth (“I’m either the best ever or complete garbage”) and 2) some degree of belief in his superiority to others, no matter how shameful he finds it or how carefully he conceals it.
It’s also worth noting here that adolescents aren’t typically supposed to be diagnosed with personality disorders and even diagnosing young adults is often discouraged. This is because adolescence and early adulthood are times of intense change and development and the natural process of maturing can cause personality disorder symptoms to resolve even without mental health treatment. So that’s yet another reason to be wary of labeling Hira with any such diagnosis. This points to a major theme of the show, which is the fact that the central characters are works in progress. They aren’t fully formed adults yet, and that gives them a chance to improve themselves before they become set in their ways.
Getting back to Noguchi’s points: Hira is pretty misanthropic, although it’s often shown in pretty subtle ways in the show. This aspect of Hira is more noticeable in the novel. For one thing, the novel establishes early on that the erasing-people-from-photos thing isn’t some new or isolated phenomenon. Rather, the main thing Hira does with his camera at the beginning of the story is to intentionally take photos of populated areas and then carefully photoshopping out all of the people. And it’s explicitly because he dislikes, even hates, most of humanity. This tendency still comes through in the series. Sometimes it’s obvious–remember those mass shooting fantasies?--and other times, it’s more subtle. We know that this aspect of the character is definitely still present in the series version of Hira since he confirms what Noguchi says about how his photo shows “selfishness and disgust.” He really is disgusted by many of the people around him.
making a shell - perfectionism and covert grandiosity
What about the part of Noguchi’s spiel where he says that Hira “make[s] a shell by belittling [himself]?” It took me some thinking to realize what (in my view) he meant by that.
This actually syncs up really well with something Noguchi says about Hira in Utsukushii Kare: Eternal. It’s illuminating enough that I’m making an exception here to confining myself to the time period of the series.
In this scene, Kiyoi is scheduled to be photographed by Noguchi on a day that Hira isn’t present at his studio. He asks about Hira and he and Noguchi talk about him briefly. Hearing that Kiyoi was Hira’s high school classmate, Noguchi talks about how weird and confining high school is, a terrible “environment for growth.” He says that doesn’t apply to Hira, though, because he’s “a king in sheep’s clothing.” This catches Kiyoi’s attention. “I was just thinking that you understand him really well,” he tells Noguchi. “I do,” Noguchi replies. “Although he looks timid and weak, he’s actually really strong.”
As Noguchi continues, his comments become more metaphorical and get harder to understand. (I suspect that the metaphors he uses might be idiomatic or otherwise intelligible to a Japanese audience in a way that’s difficult to get across in translation.) The gist is that he sees Hira as “strong-minded,” but that “in his heart” he has a kind of “sanctuary” that he protects from others, and that this could end up either holding Hira back or being something he can use to get somewhere in life. I’m not sure what to make of the sanctuary part, but it’s clear that Noguchi understands that Hira has thoughts and emotions that he doesn’t share with anyone, and that his image as a “sheep” who is “timid and weak” masks an unseen strength and determination, along with a more king-like attitude toward the world than he typically shows to others.
Time for a quick psychological theory sidebar, this time on perfectionism.
Some researchers who study perfectionism have identified a type they call “narcissistic perfectionism.” Narcissistic perfectionists think that they are, or need to be, perfect, and they expect others to be the same way, thinking about them in highly negative ways if they don’t measure up. If you read about this idea, most of the examples given to illustrate it are people who have achieved a lot in their lives, who can point to big accomplishments. But perfectionism doesn’t always result in achievements. Sometimes it keeps people stuck in a mindset that anything but perfection is pointless, making them reluctant to really try to do anything at all. If you’re a perfectionist who has a need to believe you’re special, that you would achieve big things if you tried, actually trying means taking a risk that you’ll find out that when you try, the results aren’t actually perfect and amazing.
According to narcissistic thinking, this would mean that you’re worthless, because the options are either being the best or being complete garbage. Again, I think it’s an overstatement and an oversimplification to call Hira a narcissist, but he has unresolved self-worth baggage that takes a somewhat narcissistic shape. In this way, he shows a kind of perfectionism that seems clearly underpinned by his self-worth issues. Instead of fueling achievements, this perfectionism keeps him stuck, inactive, too afraid to attempt what he thinks he might be able to do while clinging to a fantasy of what he could do if he ever got un-stuck and really tried.
That’s usually a secret. Remember when Hira didn’t make it through the first cut of the contest? He thought, “Even though I always deny it out loud, I did think photography was the one thing I can do. It felt like I was being ripped apart for being conceited" (dialogue from a fansub by @lollipopsub). The fact that he would "deny it out loud" is notable. I also think that he’s still not being entirely candid. If he thought “photography was the one thing [he] can do,” that wouldn’t exactly be “conceited”--it would actually be quite modest (about photography) and harshly self-critical (about everything else). I think deep down he has thoughts that are truly conceited, thoughts that he’s not just competent when it comes to photography, but “amazing,” as Noguchi puts it. Once again, Hira confirms everything Noguchi said with his “he sees right through me” reaction, so he agrees with this assessment.
This conceited side of Hira is never supposed to see the light of day. This is the main reason he’s so intensely embarrassed when Noguchi understands him so well, I think. It’s what Noguchi is talking about when he says that Hira “make[s] a shell by belittling [him]self.” Acting as if he’s the lowest of the low is a defense. It does correspond to the part of himself that fears, at times even believes, that he’s worthless. But it’s also a way of hiding his grandiose side. This is a way of protecting himself from the reaction others would have if they could see how highly he thinks of himself despite not having made enough effort to accomplish the sorts of things he thinks he’s capable of. It’s also a way of protecting himself from his own awareness of his shortcomings and pretensions.
There’s another type of perfectionism researchers have identified, called “covert perfectionism,” in which the person’s outward expectations of others are low and they don’t show their perfectionistic traits outwardly very much, if at all. They’re supposed to be more likely than some types to get trapped in the kind of stuckness I mentioned earlier, in which perfectionism prevents the person from making a real effort at things they would like to do well. In some important ways, Hira’s perfectionism resembles this type as well. You could say that his type of perfectionism has definite narcissistic attributes, but he hides it well enough that it is also covert.
A number of different articles on perfectionism that I looked at cited the same Brene Brown quote about it, from her book The Gifts of Imperfection. I think it’s very salient here. She writes:
Perfectionism is a self-destructive and addictive belief system that fuels this primary thought: If I look perfect, and do everything perfectly, I can avoid or minimize the painful feelings of shame, judgment, and blame.
This is very characteristic of Hira. He doesn’t expect to “look perfect” in most respects (he’s more likely to simply try to go unnoticed). But he is obsessed with avoiding those painful emotions. He has spent his entire life being shamed and judged and living in fear of it happening still more. He’s very strategic and has given a lot of thought to how best to avoid being shamed. In fact, these efforts seem to be part of the reason he is such an avid observer of the social structures around him–learning about those structures is a survival skill for him.
idealization and affiliation: borrowing status
In addition to factoring in his covert grandiosity, I think there’s something else to account for when looking closely at Hira’s apparent self-hatred. Hira’s self-critical tendencies can appear inflated if we lump examples that pertain to his relationship with Kiyoi in with other cases. They should actually be looked at separately, because their meanings are distinctly different. Again, I don’t contest that Hira has a low opinion of himself in a lot of respects. But I think when we step back and look at many of the biggest examples of what appears to be a negative view of himself, a lot of them are focused on where he stands in relation to Kiyoi. That’s not the same thing as his value as a person. And placing himself in a certain role in relation to Kiyoi has a specific kind of meaning for him, along with a specific kind of payoff.
Here comes another theoretical interlude. This time, I’m going to briefly touch on Heinz Kohut’s idea of the need for idealization.
Kohut was the originator of a school of thought called self psychology, a branch of psychoanalysis that underpins a lot of contemporary psychoanalytic/psychodynamic theory and practice. He was also an expert on narcissism and basically saw variations and degrees of narcissism as central to a lot of psychological challenges. (There’s some reason to believe Kohut may himself have had narcissistic personality disorder, which would have made him intimately familiar with its inner workings.)
Kohut’s self psychology departed from Freud’s whole psychosexual development model (basically, everyone’s least favorite aspect of Freudianism—the part with all the penis envy and Oedipal stuff and so forth). In its place, self psychology focuses on how we see ourselves, what our needs are in terms of self-image, and other matters that are very relevant to this discussion. One of Kohut’s most important insights was his observation that even when other people have a big impact on our psychological state, what we’re interacting with isn’t so much the other person themselves but our internalized idea of that person. Kohut called internalized versions of people and things from our external world “selfobjects.” (I’ll be circling back to this momentarily.)
One of Kohut’s most central concepts is idealization. In Kohut’s version of idealization, a person views someone else as basically perfect, maybe even omnipotent. The idealized person becomes a special kind of selfobject. In the best case scenario, the person doing the idealizing has some kind of real, personal connection to the idealized person. But even a mental connection to them via their status as a selfobject can meet a need in some ways.
By feeling connected to, or even just affiliated with, the idealized person, the idealizer feels like they take on some degree of the qualities they see in the idealized person. It’s not hard to see how this tendency would date back to childhood. Children have a particular need to idealize their parents at certain stages in their development. Thinking of their parents as strong, capable, in control, wise, calm, etc. gives children a sense of safety and a sort of borrowed self-esteem.
Once you’ve idealized someone, you feel a real need to continue to see them as special and powerful. Again, childrens’ views of their parents are a good example here. One reason children often blame themselves when they are neglected or abused is because they have a strong need to continue to view their parents favorably. Without that favorable view of their parent, their world would seem chaotic and dangerous. Blaming themselves often seems safer. Here, maintaining the high status of the idealized person is so important that it’s a bigger priority than preserving self-worth.
I bet you can guess where I’m going with this. Yep, Hira idealizes Kiyoi in the Kohutian sense of the word. There are a number of facets of this. Part of it involves viewing Kiyoi as basically perfect–outstanding in every way. Even when Hira sees Kiyoi as cruel, he seems to view this as an ideal attribute for someone like Kiyoi.
Hira not only states that he thinks of Kiyoi as “like a God" in season 1, episode 6, he frequently expects Kiyoi to have god-like qualities and abilities. In one of Nagira Yuu's shorter pieces about Hira and Kiyoi that's told from Hira's perspective, he's explicit about this. "Kiyoi's existence is already in a much higher dimension than human beings," he thinks. "Is he the successful fusion of deity and human? That is the big question" ("Wonderful World," as translated by @sparkling-rain). At points during the series, he expects Kiyoi to have a superhuman degree of freedom to do anything he wishes and to know things that would require him to read Hira's mind. He really does treat him as if he’s practically omnipotent.
Hira's idealization of Kiyoi has a number of implications. One is that Hira misunderstands the social structure at his school. He views Kiyoi as the unquestioned king and doesn’t see that in many ways, Kiyoi makes choices about how to behave in school out of a desire to stay on the good side of bullies like Shirota. This fundamental misunderstanding in turn makes it impossible for Hira to notice or understand all the ways Kiyoi tries to protect him at school. If Kiyoi were really at the peak of the school hierarchy, if he wanted to be nice to Hira, he would just do it. But because he has to maintain a certain image in order to keep himself safe, he has to help Hira in covert ways. For example, when Kiyoi admonishes Yoshida not to order Hira around or use his demeaning, ableist nickname, he makes it seem like he just wants Hira to be at his beck and call, which wouldn’t be possible if he were occupied doing tasks for others. But if that were the case, why would he object to Yoshida using the nickname? For that matter, why doesn’t Kiyoi ever use the nickname himself? (He says it aloud in his exchange with Yoshida, but he never actually uses it to address Hira.) If Hira weren’t so invested in the idea of Kiyoi’s supreme power, he might have noticed these disparities between his narrative and reality within the story.
In season 2, the fact that Hira is both someone who has a relationship with Kiyoi and at the same time is a fan of Kiyoi as a performer points out another aspect of idealization. While I’ve never seen Kohut’s concept of idealization applied to fandom, I think there’s at least a variation of it at play when we feel comforted by, or as if we gain status from, being a fan of a person (or a group, piece of media, etc.) that we see as special or powerful. When we get excited because the sports team we root for does well or our favorite actor wins an award or is in a movie or show that does well, I think we’re experiencing a kind of gratification based on a selfobject that we feel is ideal in some way. Our status as fans gives us an affiliation that feels similar to a real connection. (Parasocial relationships are related to this as well–something that’s likely to resonate with those of us who participate in BL fandom, where examples of parasocial relationships abound.)
So both as a fan and as a classmate, then a (sort of) friend, then a boyfriend, Hira gets a great deal of satisfaction and happiness from idealizing Kiyoi and feeling like he has a kind of tie to him. This is completely interwoven with the love he feels for Kiyoi in the beginning. But it also makes it very difficult for him to acknowledge the ways in which Kiyoi doesn’t actually resemble his initial, idealized selfobject of him. Kiyoi isn’t omnipotent. He was never actually the most powerful person in their high school class. In many ways, he’s actually a better person than his selfobject version. Although Kiyoi isn’t the nicest person ever, he’s not nearly as cruel as the cold, imperious figure Hira paints him as.
Sometimes Hira chooses this selfobject over Kiyoi the human being, and Kiyoi knows it. In season 1, episode 4, when Hira starts to get close to Kiyoi but then backs off, protesting that he’s just a “servant” and Kiyoi is his “king,” Kiyoi responds by telling him (in the Viki subtitle translation), “I don’t care if you chase your ideal of me, but leave the real me alone.” This dynamic, of course, is a huge theme in their relationship that continues all the way to the end of season 2 and beyond.
Those are some of the ways in which Hira insists on maintaining his idealized selfobject of Kiyoi. But there’s another way he clings to this idealization, which I think is harder to see at first: in order for Kiyoi to be elevated, Hira has to be beneath him. This is actually one of the most paradoxical parts of this paradoxical structure, because in Hira’s view, he has to be beneath Kiyoi in order for Kiyoi to be exalted, but by exalting Kiyoi, Hira’s status is raised. It sounds strange at first, but it’s not a new idea. The notion of humbly dedicating oneself to someone or something that you uphold as an ideal sounds like an act of self-abnegation, but in the minds of those who take on such a role, by affiliating themselves with this perfect person or thing, some of the magical aura of that perfection rubs off on them.
It’s a bit like members of the clergy in the past (in a Christian/European context), who were known to humble themselves completely, taking vows of poverty, depriving themselves in various ways, even mortifying their flesh. Through these humbling acts, these people were seen by themselves and others as closer to God than an ordinary person, potentially as a channel to God–even as someone who could actually speak for God. By humbling themselves and exalting their ideal, they became something greater than they would ever have been capable of being on their own. Hira’s approach is remarkably similar. In keeping with his description of Kiyoi as a kind of god, he talks about wanting to be a “nun.” (As I understand it, he’s describing a role more like that of a shrine maiden in Shintoism than a nun in any Christian tradition, but there’s enough similarity in those roles to justify the translation.) Basically, if you make your ideal person perfect enough, then even being their servant gives you a lot of status, especially if you’re their most devoted, indispensable servant.
I’m reminded of a passage from the novel here. In the novel version of the story, Kiyoi visits Hira at his new home. A different situation than the one in the series has led to him living alone for the first time, and as in the series, Kiyoi uses his need for a rehearsal space as an excuse to visit Hira there. The situation is somewhat different from the series, but similar in essentials. Hira and Kiyoi have a conversation that leads to an exchange that is equivalent to the conversation that takes place right after the finger incident in the series. In the novel, this scene is portrayed from Kiyoi’s point of view; anything in italics is his internal dialogue. (The ellipsis below is mine.)
‘What am I to you?’
‘The person I love most in the word.’
It was this firm response that gave Kiyoi courage.
‘Then, do you want to date me?’
Kiyoi felt his face burning. Just say yes. If you do, I’ll be able to be honest too. Kiyoi’s heart was pounding as he waited for Hira’s answer, but the answer he got was something that he hadn’t expected.
‘I don’t want to.’
Kiyoi blinked.
‘Why?’
…
‘Because you’re the king.’
‘Huh?’
Kiyoi’s eyes blinked even faster than before.
‘I mean…Kiyoi is like a king, and I’m merely an ordinary person who serves the king; it’s not like I do it out of obligation, but in my mind, I view myself as Captain Duck…Ah, by Captain Duck, I’m referring to a yellow toy in the shape of a duck that children play with in swimming pools or bathtubs, you know?’
–I know, but what does that have to do with it?
Not caring about Kiyoi, who wanted to ask something, Hira continued to explain about the duck. He kept babbling on and on about how Captain Duck once used to float in the sewage and was now proudly floating down a golden river as a prestigious toy of the king, and it was very satisfied with its current life.
(from this section of White Lotus’s novel translation)
Hira is explicit here about the servant/king relationship he envisions for himself and Kiyoi. But the rubber duck imagery is even more telling. Being a cheap toy, an inanimate object of so little value that it’s almost disposable, is more than enough for Hira as long as he can be associated with Kiyoi–if he can be ‘a prestigious toy of the king.’ Just belonging to Kiyoi, even (or especially?) as an insignificant object, equates to ‘proudly floating down a golden river.’ Again, placing Kiyoi in an exalted position and then abasing himself (while maintaining a link to Kiyoi) is Hira’s way of using idealization to achieve a paradoxical kind of status.
The conflict over Hira’s unrelenting idealization of Kiyoi comes to a head in season 2 when Hira fails to understand why his comment about Kiyoi and his parents having “nothing to do with one another” was hurtful.
Kiyoi: Do you not get how I feel right now?
Hira: I don’t!
Kiyoi: Think about it! If you don’t get it, think! [tapping Hira on the head]
Hira: Sorry.
Kiyoi: I don’t want you to apologize.
Hira: But…you’re mad at me.
Kiyoi: It’s always like this. I get mad, and you take the blame. But in reality you just don’t get it!
Hira: No, I don’t! The stars in the sky and the ones watching them will never align!
Kiyoi: What does space have to do with it?!
Hira: Because you and I are completely different! We’re in different dimensions and on different paths. That’s why stars shine so brightly! If I try to touch it or to understand it, all I’ll do is pull the star down to my level! So what I’m saying is…in reality…I don’t…want to understand you.
(dialogue translated by @lollipopsub)
Hira makes this dynamic very explicit here. It’s not just that he thinks Kiyoi is superior and his role is to serve him. He’s determined to actively resist interacting with Kiyoi on an even playing field. It’s particularly clear when he says, “If I try to touch it or to understand it, all I’ll do is pull the star down to my level.” Seeing things from Kiyoi’s point of view or touching him–metaphorically, and in some ways literally–would “pull [Kiyoi] down to [Hira’s] level.” Instead of raising Hira’s status, this would degrade Kiyoi’s. The distance between Kiyoi and Hira–the lack of understanding and meaningful contact–is (from Hira’s perspective) a feature, not a bug. It’s integral to the gratification Hira experiences when he watches Kiyoi as if he were a star–something both beautiful and trillions of miles away.
One sign of the importance Hira places on Kiyoi’s exalted social status is how irritated, even livid, he gets when other people don’t recognize and behave in accordance with his views on the social hierarchy and where they stand in relation to Kiyoi.
For example, when Shirota and his friends make shitty comments about Kiyoi after he doesn’t win the contest, they’re obviously being assholes. But what bothers Hira most is that they are acting as if Kiyoi failing to win a highly competitive national contest means he’s beneath them, when in fact, it’s unlikely any of them would have qualified as contestants, much less made it to the finals like Kiyoi did. To Hira, it’s their lack of understanding of their place in the hierarchy, their lack of recognition that Kiyoi is above them, that is most damning. Which is legitimately infuriating–they’re being incredibly arrogant. But personally, I think it’s clearly more important that they’re being critical and dismissive of someone they claim is their friend right when he has just gone through something very disappointing. That’s not a big concern for Hira, though. In addition to deriving a kind of status from his association with Kiyoi, he also finds some satisfaction in knowing that while his status in relation to Kiyoi is low, at least he can correctly gauge where he stands, unlike others.
And he seems to relish not only correctly assessing his place in the world but also maintaining a particularly lowly role. This isn’t inherent to idealization, though as I’ll talk about further, this combination of factors isn’t unique to Hira by any stretch. I mentioned that Hira’s perfectionism, among other things, is a way of attempting to, as Brene Brown put it, “avoid or minimize the painful feelings of shame, judgment, and blame.” Hira does have some grandiose beliefs about himself, but he also views himself as inferior in many ways. This tension creates the stuckness that often comes with perfectionism, and this blocks Hira from attaining goals that would fuel a more healthy kind of self-esteem. Gaining status through his association with an idealized version of Kiyoi gets around all of these problems.
Hira also seems to view his grandiose thoughts as a sort of jinx, a way of tempting fate. Think back again to his thoughts when he found out that he hadn’t made the first cut in the Young Photographica contest. “It felt like I was being ripped apart for being conceited.” In Hira’s world, having grandiose thoughts–or at least, buying into them–brings punishment. It’s better, and safer, to embrace total abjection. This is one more reason why it seems safest to put Kiyoi on a pedestal while placing himself in the most inferior position possible. At least, this seems safest until Hira realizes he could lose Kiyoi entirely if he doesn’t stop this destructive pattern.
When Hira does finally try to make a shift in how he relates to Kiyoi at the end of season 2, the big gesture he makes toward “look[ing] at [Kiyoi] straight on” is setting, then communicating, the goal of photographing Kiyoi in the role of professional photographer. This is a very appropriate way for him to make this move. Viewing Kiyoi more as an equal means having to relinquish some part of the status and self-worth he borrows from his idealized image of Kiyoi; this is the perfect time, then, for him to find some self-worth of his own by finally putting himself out there as a photographer and making a real effort to test his abilities.
That's it for this installment! I hope to get part 2 posted within the next week. Edited to add, four months later: That was a little unrealistic! But I'm determined to finish it off one of these days.
Edited to add:
Adding an edit here as I noticed what seems like a rather glaring omission. I failed to reference a scene that bears out a lot of what I have to say in this post. It happens when Hira is staying with Noguchi in Eternal. They have this exchange over ramen:
Noguchi: I was just like you in the past. All full of myself and thought that everything I saw was boring. I was always angry and all, "You're all worthless and should disappear!"
Hira: I don't think we're alike at all, though.
Noguchi: Having too much confidence and having too little confidence, they're two sides of the same paper in the sense that they're both signs of a damaged self-consciousness. Anything could make you switch sides at the drop of a hat.
(Emphasis mine.)
Citations for individual quotes are included with their respective quotes. The following sources were used:
When I quoted series dialogue, I used the wording @lollipopsub used in their (sadly no longer accessible in the US) fansub whenever possible. I lost access to this version so these quotes are from my notes.
I also quoted the Viki subs (which are good, just not quite as good as the ones @lollipopsub made) when needed. On one occasion I used the Viki version because it supported my point better.
When I quoted the novel, I quoted a fan translation by White Lotus featured on a site called Chrysanthemum Garden.
I also briefly quoted a short story translated by @sparkling-rain here.
When I quoted Eternal, I quoted a fansub that (at the subber’s request) will remain nameless.
#utsukushii kare#utsukare#utsukushii kare meta#utsukushii kare analysis#utsukushii kare season 1#utsukushii kare season 2#utsukushii kare 2#utsukushii kare eternal#my beautiful man#hira x kiyoi#psychology of bl#self psychology#heinz kohut#selfobject#covert perfectionism#narcissistic perfectionism#psychological paradoxes of utsukushii kare#hira kazunari
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Episode Two: The Running Man
It's odd how little gets said about this ep, considering it's the most direct homage the earlier anime adaptation - but maybe that might be why? Since, as I said, this was my entry into the story, to me it felt out of place. It seemed like it was doing all it could to distract from how the previous ep concluded.
With hindsight, I think that's the idea.
The opening with the radio! I'm so weirdly fond of it. Yeah it's a flashback, but it shows Vash in a private moment without his mask; a glimpse of his secrets. He's not wearing his coat, so you get a look at how broad his shoulders are; he's also handling the tools to maintain his gun skilfully for someone who claims he's not a fighter. As he's contemplating the crash - he was there, obviously, and he has the photo of him, Rem and Nai still - the radio host says without the Plants, our ancestors would have died out long ago. How long ago? Long enough that Vash likely shouldn't still look such a gosh darn pretty boy? Yet it slips by.
(I do not understand the complaints that Stampede had no mystery.)
This is the episode where he's most committed to the bit of being cute but sort of hapless and silly, too, so the contrast is dramatic. I don't think he was actually expecting Meryl and Roberto to clear his name all at once, but I do think he was hoping, I don't know, maybe they'd believe him from the first. But nothing's ever that easy for my boy. I gotta say, Vash, optimism has its limits. Your story is that you're being framed by your previously unknown identical twin brother. You know it's true, I know it's true, but you might have had an easier time with some, I don't know… evidence? It's not surprising the reporters are sceptical.
Oh god, I'm so sorry, do you want a hug or -
(By the way, this means Knives told everyone it wasn't him, it was a one-armed man.)
He's being melodramatic, but I suspect also more sincere than what comes across - which is the whole reason he exaggerates, of course. (What? No, I'm not talking from experience. I have never, ever done this. Never ever in A MILLION YEARS have I exaggerated to obfuscate my sincerity.) The angle changes to show his face, and it's pretty clear how genuinely exhausted and upset even the thought of Knives makes him. Though it is still pretty funny that Meryl just isn't having it.
Also funny: Meryl versus the Worms, round one. Worms 1, Meryl 0.
Roberto greeting Tonis is really cute. He's a grump, but he's never an asshole to kids.
Ahhhh Tonis gives Vash his bugs and Vash pats his head and then he moves to take his hand away Tonis grabs it so he'll keep doing it and then when Rosa tells Tonis to leave Vash look dismayed and waves goodbye and it is so cute and IT IS SO SAD.
Because Rosa loves her son, wants him healthy and happy and safe, wants him shielded from the violence of the world and from decisions like pulling a gun on the hero of your town who's been nothing but good to you, better than you deserve - and yet we saw Rosa come to the decision that she would do this last episode. Right about... here. See the way she moves from standing in front of him, almost protectively, to beside him, clearing the way? By the look on her face, she doesn't want to. Vash proved himself yet again afterwards, saved the town without hesitation the moment it was endangered at great risk to himself. He's a good man, a friend, someone she trusts. But it's not him Rosa's thinking of now. It's not even the town. It's Tonis.
I have to say, Roberto doesn't look shocked or concerned. He just wearily sets down his mug and raises his hands, expression unchanged. Meanwhile Meryl's turned into a cartoon.
Vash understands. He didn't fight back against the MPs. He didn't instigate the duel. It's because of him that this is necessary. That just doesn't mean he's going to make it easy for them.
Ah, that old Stampede special: the undignified leg-spread landing.
Man the English dub is good, but it's this episode I started to realise how good. It's incredibly funny. "The furious fists of the Nebraska Family challenge you to a duel!" "Felt the fury right there!" "Money! Come back!" "I hope you like pancakes, because you're going to become one!"
There's one translation I'm not sold on, though, and it's Nebraska declaring "Power is justice! Power is truth!" I had the same problem in Persona 5 Royal when I played it and the characters kept going on about how they'll "prove our justice". It sounds so awkward.
From what I can tell, the word they're using translates more clearly to "moral rightness" or "righteousness", and the score title for Stampede renders what Nebraska says better: might is right. He's advocating Social Darwinism, basically. It's the natural order of the world: the strong deserve to flourish, the weak deserve to perish.
Nebraska: I hate cowards like you! This whole planet is fighting for survival! Anyone who runs is bound to die like a sorry loser! But you, Stampede! How dare you?! / You coward! I despise waste-of-life cream puffs like you! You have to fight tooth and nail to survive in this world! If those who can't hack it run away and die like chickens, then so be it! But you? I expected more, Stampede!
Vash: You might be right that I'm too timid. But is that such a terrible thing? Is fighting everything head-on so important? Even if it gets someone killed? / Okay, I may not be the bravest, but what's so terrible about being a little timid? Is fighting head-on always right? It risks lives, and for what?
Nebraska: Weapons… are made for fighting! Do you get it now?! There's no future for those who don't fight! / I might as well, huh? It's what the damn thing's made for! That'll show ya! Any snivelling slug too scared to fight must die!
Vash: Come on, can you back off? I really don't want to fight anyone. / Can you guys cool it for a second? I'm really not in the mood for violence.
Nebraska: That's the attitude that pisses me off! / When the world ends, will it ask if you're in the mood?
It's kinda funny that Nebraska keeps going on about it, though, because he also keeps demanding accommodation for his son's weakness. If he was really committed he'd rely only on himself instead of endangering Gofsef. And yet oddly enough, it's the hypocrisy which saves him, because it's how Rosa realises how much they have in common. He loves Gofsef, just like she loves Tonis, and Vash forgives them both.
Enjoy the subtle gag of Meryl mirroring her "parents'" expressions, BTW.
Nabraska judging the townspeople for drinking before 5:00PM as if he didn't just destroy half the place trying to steal their only power source.
Gofsef being creeped out by Tonis's Worm buddies.
And Roberto visibly tuning out as Meryl tells him off.
I think the reason this feels like it's all happening so fast is because this is the place where an episode of the older adaptation would end, leaving some implied time to pass before the next crisis. But this isn't twenty-six self-contained episodes, it's twelve instalments of one story. The running man must continue to run, because it was never humans he was running from.
And I didn't realise this until now, but the drone in Vash's room? It's looking for him, or his things. It doesn't find either.
When it doesn't...
E.G. launches his assault, though the drones had been patrolling since the previous night. Vash was about to leave when he heard the scream from the diner and rushed back to help. And so he stayed long enough for E.G.'s master to arrive in person.
Whatever happened in Jeneora Rock, it seems it was necessary for Vash to witness it, so E.G. had instructions to keep him in place.
So E.G.'s cyborg enhancements look like a bear trap.
Of course.
#trigun stampede#meta: tristampparty episodes#tristampparty#trigun meta#scriptwriters knew exactly what was going on in ep 11 by the way#wonder where they got that sketch of vash looking adorable#somewhat convinced knives chose it to annoy vash#dig the subtle worldbuilding of the cars out there all being crap#but the eom's truck never has a problem
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Day 1: Decorating + Pumpkin Carving🎃
You wake up in your bed a liiiittle bit too early, but once you remember that it's now officially October, you couldn't bring yourself to go back to sleep.
Since the universe decided to wake you up on its own, you're gonna make it everyone's problem.
You get up from the bed, changing into your clothes for the day and immediately walking to Killer's room, knocking on the door for a bit before it opens to reveal a just-woken-up Killer, rubbing his eyesockets.
"huh- what- what's going on- did nightmare need us to go out or something-"
"Good morning, Killer-"
"oh, hey. so what's the reason for waking me up?"
"It's October- We must decorate for Halloween!"
"..this early?"
"Yes, this early. We should decorate the castle before everyone wakes up to surprise them. And you were the first person I could think of to join me."
"...can we set up pranks for everyone-"
"Yes, Killer- But they have to be on theme, remember that."
"i can work with that. okay, let me change-"
You wait outside his door as he changes into his usual attire, before walking out of his room and spinning his knife around.
"where to first?"
You eagerly grab his hand and run to your room, grabbing a few boxes of decorations you've been saving since you started living at the castle.
"we're probably gonna need more than that-"
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Now hold this." You hand him a fake spider web, moving the boxes out into the hall.
He simply chuckles and walks out after you, leaning back a bit before jumping up and hanging the spider web along the wall.
You take some smaller props and place them around, like small obviously-fake spiders in the most random places you could think of.
"what are the pumpkins for? like these are real."
"We're gonna carve them, obviously-"
"you still carve pumpkins?"
"Uh, obviously- come on, it could be fun. And I'm sure you'd be able to carve one with ease considering your skills."
Killer looks at his knife before looking back to you.
"yeah, alright. just let me move 'em before they get smashed or something."
You look through the box, putting up some mini (properly clothed) skeletons. (If they weren't, that'd certainly be scandalous..)
Killer takes some more of the spider web material, hanging it around Dust's doorway and taking some mini spiders from you, placing them in it.
"How's this one gonna work?"
"simple. opens the door, face-to-face with spiders in a tired state. let the chaos commence."
"I like it-"
You take some toilet paper and throw it around, jumping up and trying to make sure it stays in place, dangling above the two of you. You tend to fall a few times until Killer just uses his magic to lift you up via your soul, which makes things easier. Once you've hung it up properly, you give him a thumbs up, and he puts you down to grab something else.
You dim the lights in the halls, hanging up some pumpkin lights once Killer lifts you again, illuminating the hallways with a calm orange glow. A nice contrast to the usual color.
You place some bats above the skeletons' doors as Killer sets up a can of silly string to go off in front of Horror's.
You pour out some fake blood under your door, putting some caution tape around it for both the effect and so no one steps in it while it dries.
"Oh, I missed a bat- Killer, help me-"
"again?"
"Yes."
He lifts you up.
"where?"
"Nightmare's door."
"you got a death wish?"
"Might. It'd be fun-"
"if you say so." He lifts you over to Nightmare's door, and you carefully hang the bat above it. The door to his room is fairly big, so it's difficult to reach the top without assistance.
As you carefully adjust the bat, Nightmare's door opens and you pull your knees up.
"The hell's going on out here?" He observes the decorations you've placed.
Killer, having not been paying attention, is startled and loses focus, letting go of his hold on your soul.
You fall down with a surprised scream, before Nightmare catches you in his arms.
"Morning, Night. Nice save." You smile at him before he puts you down.
"Morning. Now answer my question."
"We're decorating for Halloween since it's October. So far we've only decorated this hallway, but we're gonna move to the other spaces."
"Isn't it awfully early for something like that?"
"It's never too early."
"If you say so. Just don't decorate my office, I like keeping it clean."
"you've got it, boss-"
"ah fuck- KILLER-"
"oh hey, dust woke up-"
"I didn't think you enjoyed Halloween this much." Nightmare turns to you.
"Halloween's super fun! Eating candy, dressing up in costumes, decorating, watching horror movies, carving pumpkins- there's lots you can do."
"Hmm..fair enough. Well, just keep doing what you're doing, I'll allow it as long as it doesn't mess up my work."
"You got it." You give him a mock salute as he makes his way to the kitchen to get some coffee.
"i thought he wouldn't like it."
"Same-"
Dust walks out of his room after cutting down the webs around his doorway, stepping out.
"like that one, dust? i put a lot of work into it."
"not your best work."
"oh COME ON-"
Horror exits shortly after, unfazed by the amount of silly string that just shot all over him.
"oh..is it halloween? did i miss a couple of days?" He puts his head up to the side of his skull that doesn't have a crack in it.
"No no, it's only the first of October, Horror. You're good."
"oh, good. can i help you?" He looks at you specifically, ignoring the other skeletons in the room.
"Of course- before we continue decorating the rest of the castle..why don't we take a break to do some pumpkin carving? We could show off our work to each other."
"i haven't done that in..years-"
"come on guys, we can see which one of us has the best design."
You motion for everyone to follow you, picking up one of the pumpkins you bought. Killer grabs two of them, and Horror holds one with ease. Dust didn't care to carry anything, so he just followed along.
You make your way into the kitchen, sitting the pumpkins down on the table in there, before grabbing some knives and carving kits. You lay out some old newspapers and place the pumpkins on them.
"So do you guys wanna just wing it or follow a pattern on one of these sheets?"
"wing it, it's more creative." Killer points finger guns at you.
"Improvising it is." You close the small book of patterns, cutting the top off of your pumpkin of choice.
Horror stands beside you to watch, the other skeletons across from you doing the same thing to their pumpkins.
"Alright, time for the gross part." You reach your hand into the pumpkin, beginning to remove the seeds.
"don't they make like..scoops for this-" Dust observes you.
"Yeah but it's kinda fun to do it with your hands, even if it's a bit gross. There should be scoops over there with the kit if you guys wanna use them, though."
Horror completely ignores them and just shoves his hand into his pumpkin, doing the same thing you are, pulling out the seeds and guts.
This process continues for a while until everyone's cleaned out their pumpkins, beginning the process.
Killer decides to go for a cat design, Dust keeping it simple and carving out a classic face with triangle eyes. Horror decided to make the pumpkin into a house, adjusting it to build a small door on the side. He then places a mini pumpkin you got as a decoration in there, drawing a face on it with a sharpie.
"is that a reference to the one meme-"
"yes."
"nice-"
"mhm."
You stand there a moment, trying to think of what you want to carve onto your pumpkin. What to choose, what to choose..
Then an idea hits you, and you get to work, using the carving kit for more precise carving. When everyone finishes theirs, they try to peek and see what you're working on, but you turn the pumpkin away.
"Eyelights off until I'm done."
"the curiosity is killing me- let me seee-"
"Nope, not until it's done, Killer."
Nightmare enters the room, leaning on the counter to observe the group.
"Alright, there."
You turn your pumpkin around so everyone can see, showcasing some mini skeletons, each carved to look like members of the group.
"Like it?"
Killer gives you some thumbs up, Dust gives you a small smile, and Horror admires your craftsmanship.
Nightmare puts his hand over his mouth, not showing the smile beneath it at your goofy little carvings.
"I've succeeded then- we've got our pumpkins for the month. Let's go put them outside- last one out's a rotten egg!" You run out holding your pumpkin, the others chasing you down, and Nightmare walking behind each of you with an amused look.
Everyone having fun is a nice change of pace. He'll let them have this.
[ao3 link :)] <
// WOW y'all like this one. Maybe I should make more "Bad" Sanses oneshots while I work on LOVE AND JUSTICE since it's focused on them-
Part 2 here!
#sleeplessflower's oneshots#sleepless flower's halloween oneshots#spooky scary skele-oneshots#undertale x reader#day 1#killer sans x reader#dust sans x reader#horror sans x reader#nightmare x reader
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3dolc x roe results!
Hey hey, so its finally here! Ik it’s late but here are just some of the results I received from the @cleostoohot and @starliet challenge!
Desired College Acceptance
This is... something I've struggled with for such a long time, so I'm honestly so proud that I've gotten to this point. I was rejected from my no 1 uni in March, and while sure, I got into other places, I was pretty dejected about the rejection. So now after the challenge, I.... drum roll please.... got into my no 1 uni!!! I'm not going to give too many details because I don't want to get doxxed LMAO but, AHHHHH I'M JUST SO EXCITED!!!! I also manifested that my roommate would be one of my best friends(past best friend, not a new one lol), and I heard some bad rumors about the food/dorms there, so I changed it, all to highly ranked stuff with plenty of options lol.
Desired Body
I mentioned this earlier, but manifesting away my period has always been something I aimed to do. This isn't as related to this challenge since I affirmed for it before but, it's been almost a month since the last date that I was supposed to get my period, so I'll take that as a win LMAO.
My stomach also completely slimmed down. I used to have a protruding stomach, but now it’s just so flat?? My thighs and arms are also skinnier and toned, skin is clear and hair-free(only where I want it to be), andddd yup! Literally in love with the way my body looks :pp.
Fluency in Desired Language
I was talking with my parents in our language when they noticed how much better I had gotten at it. I actually feel comfortable enough in it that I could actually argue in it and joke around, and overall, I'm very happy with the results lol.
Ending Thoughts
I'm just so pumped right now, and I can't wait to see what wonderful things pop up in my reality next! If I wanted to tell one thing to anyone trying this challenge or just manifesting in general, it would be to just keep persisting. If you read my 3dolc x roe update post, you'll know that I actually did not have a good time the first two days ;-; I was spiraling and honestly had so many intrusive thoughts pop up in my head. However, I just kept interrupting the thought and affirming against it, and then it got much much easier. I let myself take more time(shit happens, i get busy lol) to make up for this, and baam. All my results are here lol. I'm probably going to manifest more stuff with this, so stay tuned!
-cinna
#success story#law of assumption#loa#mine#self concept#manifestation#motivation#manifesting#3dolc#roe#mindset#neville goddard#sammy ingram
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self-ship coded, but anyone can enjoy. <3 i’m still really hung up on armin being your secret admirer. and you finding out it’s him can go two ways:
1. he confesses
telling you that he’s been the one leaving flowers and little poems for months was easier said than done. armin had a lapse of judgement, thought that yearning from the sidelines wasn’t enough and he was done with being a ghost. his confidence was short lived, because now that you were standing in front of him, confused and not catching on to what he’s saying, he wanted to crawl away and hide. this was such a bad idea. you’d be disappointed and weirded out that it’s been him this whole time.
“I, um, I wanted t-to tell you that it’s been m-me. leaving stuff for you.” he sputtered, words falling out of his mouth without thinking it through. he wanted to say something more romantic, like in his poems. you thought it was just a crazy coincidence, that armin was at the same place at the same time the note wedged in between your door said to meet up at. everything became so much clearer. the sonnets were so sweet and seemed so personal, decorated with words only an intelligent person like him would say. they were never creepy or intrusive. armin made them personal and put a lot of thought into everything he had written.
“oh, of course!” you smiled, your face lighting up with amusement and satisfaction. you now knew who the mysterious guy was. you immediately pulled him in for a hug, not hesitating or even thinking twice about it. armin was too stunned to reciprocate the affection, even though he had been longing for some kind of physical contact with you for a while.
“you’re not… upset…?” he questioned. he had envisioned everything going so badly, he didn’t anticipate you’d be happy. excited?
“no way.” you chuckled into his shoulder and squeezed him tighter. whatever was to happen now, you fully accepted it. armin wasn’t just nice. he was kind and gentle, never having a bad thing to say about anyone or anything. armin was intelligent and quick witted. not much could be said for the other folks you’ve been dating on and off. it wouldn’t be right to pass up on someone you knew would treat you with dignity and respect.
“I’m s-so glad.” he sighed. he didn’t even realize he had been holding his breath since before you had even gotten there. the sudden boost of oxygen kickstarted his brain, and he embraced you in his arms in the way he always wanted.
2. he gets caught.
you really weren’t trying to be nosy. your intentions were pure, only wanting to return the journal to its owner. but, in order to get a clue on who it belonged to, you had to open it. you flipped through the pages, not reading anything, just searching for a name anywhere.
you suddenly couldn’t put it down. you noticed a pattern in the way the i’s were dotted, the way this person crossed their t’s and looped their g’s, j’s, and y’s. whoever this journal belonged to was the same person who had been leaving you notes in odd places. places they knew you’d find them. you had been receiving anonymous letters, notes, and poems for months. it was driving you crazy, not knowing who the person was. and now you were one step closer.
you immediately turned to the front inside, searching for a name. on the back cover, in the corner, and in the smallest handwriting that matched the penmanship on the pages and in your messages, was the name armin arlert. you couldn’t retain the shocked gasp you released. you needed to find him, give him his journal back, but then what. he would definitely be humiliated if you said you knew he was your secret admirer, even more so if you mentioned that you looked inside of it. and besides, you and armin were just friends. what would happen next of the topic was brought up?
“i’ve been looking everywhere for this! I thought it was gone for good, thank you!” armin practically snatched the journal from your hand. he clutched it to his chest, then opened and flicked through the pages with his thumb as of to see if anything was ripped out or missing. you smiled, swallowing back the truth armin didn’t know that you knew.
“how did you, uh, know this was mine?” he asked. armin’s shoulders stiffened, waiting for your response.
“it wasn’t hard to figure it out. your name is written in the back, so…” you trailed off and shrugged. armin nodded, believing in half of the facts you divulged.
“thanks for not going all through it. t-there’s some… really personal stuff in here.” his smile was wide and genuine, trifle grateful for your honest deed.
you watched armin strategically stack his journal along with his other books he was carrying. you made the decision then and there to not say anything about knowing he was your closeted fan. the fact that he would be embarrassed beyond life itself was obvious. armin was a shy guy. you hardly ever saw him talk to girls that weren’t you, or sasha, or mikasa. and he never talked about dating, or having a girlfriend. with his anxious disposition, girls weren't a thing that came easily to him. perhaps it was better if armin came forward about his feelings in his own time, rather than being found out and confronted on the spot.
“yeah, of course. no problem.” you bit your tongue and patted him on the back.
2023. do not copy or repost any work by arlertwitch on any other platform. violators will be prosecuted.
#my writing#armin arlert#armin fluff#armin imagine#armin drabble#armin one shot#armin fic#armin x y/n#armin x you#armin x male reader#armin x black reader#armin x reader#armin x fem reader#armin x gn reader#Armin x gender neutral reader
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