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aloesarchives · 1 year ago

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Popular Boy (JJK One-Shot)

TW/Warnings: Fem Reader and She/Her pronouns, Angst with Fluff ending, Profanity, Smoking from Shoko and Suguru, Highkey Miscommunication Trope, Cheesy cliches, this one-shot being way too long than it's supposed to be, a little OOC Satoru and Suguru

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem! Reader

AU: Modern/High School AU!

Pronouns: She/Her(any gal could read this, but Reader is slightly coded to be introverted, good at drawing and crafts, and a nerd)

Word Count: 10.2k words

Summary: You weren't supposed to fall in love with your best friend Satoru Gojo. But you did anyway. It doesn't help that he is the most popular guy in your school.

(A/N): This is my longest one-shot to date. I went off the rails and wrote this out of this idea and brain dump I had. Un top of being sick, I didn't post for like 2 weeks because I was working on this and having little motivation. But I'm back!

[!!!Unedited and not proofread!!! 1/24/2024 4:27pm CST]

Having a crush on your best friend is the absolute worst. You promised yourself you wouldn’t. But after reviewing your symptoms, you concluded that you are, indeed, in love with your best friend, Satoru Gojo. It's too bad he’s the most popular guy in the school. Suguru is second to him but doesn’t bask in the attention like his friend does.

It all started when you became friends with them in your first year of high school. Shoko was in your class, and you two became best friends instantly. You’d usually eat alone somewhere during break or lunch because the cafeteria was always rowdy, making it overstimulating. One day, your usual spot was taken over. Though it bummed you out your little spot was discovered, it wasn’t yours in the first place, so you went on a search for a new one. After a few minutes of searching, you spotted Shoko smoking in a hidden spot behind the school. She hears you from how your feet crunch on the dirt and asks you to join her. Though you didn’t smoke, you stayed with her. After talking briefly, Shoko asked if you were free after school, taking a long drag out of her cigarette.

You never stayed too long after school, only for your respective clubs, but that’s it. You also had no friends, so maybe this is your chance to get closer to Shoko. Upon agreeing, she smiles before taking her last drag out and extinguishing her smoke in a nearby ashtray. As the two of you returned to class, she told you that her other two friends were coming. Hinting that they were quite the handful. Your expression lightens upon hearing the two new people joining your hangout with Shoko. Perhaps this could be what you needed to step outside of your comfort zone to have a social experience like everyone else your age.

After getting off the train with Shoko, she pulled you along the busy crowd and met the two boys at the subway station entrance. You didn’t, however, expect Shoko’s mystery friends to be Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto—the most well-known boys in the entire school and possibly the whole district. Shoko was making your introduction to them as you grew shy under their gaze. Nervous was an understatement; anxiety was brewing in you like rain clouds forming a storm. What if they scoff at you? Mock you? Purposely pick on you for fun? Each thought raced against each other across your mind that you didn’t notice Satoru placing his hand on your shoulder. It snapped you back to reality as you looked up to avoid being rude.

You’ve heard the rumors and the hushed whispers from every corner of the school about how Satoru Gojo was among the most good-looking guys. How he had blue eyes that matched the sky and hair like snow. You only caught glimpses of him throughout the campus but never saw him up close. But now that you are, you can confirm it for yourself. To you, he looked more ethereal, if anything. His blue eyes were like the endless cerulean sky above, his white hair lightly tousled in the wind; he was beautiful to you.

“Hey, you don’t have to stiffen up around me. I don’t want you to go all shy on me (Y/N). Satoru Gojo, at your service~.”

Extend his hand to shake yours; you return the gesture, albeit clumsily. Satoru chuckles before he unexpectedly brings your hand to his lips. He kissed your fingers ever so gently, feather-like almost. Your body most certainly would have erupted in a blaze by his actions. But it didn’t; you were more caught off-guard. You wondered if he did this to every girl he came across. He just smiled afterward but gets bonked on the head by Suguru, who went to introduce himself to you.

“Satoru, you’re going to scare her off. Sorry (Y/N), he’s always like that. I’m Suguru Geto, and I hope you’re not uncomfortable because of him.”

You quickly dismissed it, trying to ease Suguru’s concerns. After hanging out with them, you knew you found people you would call friends. You never had that much fun until you hung out with them. Going to arcades, eating out together, and wandering the city of Tokyo filled you with non-replicable happiness. After that hangout, the rest was history. Since then, you have always hung out with Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko. You all stuck together like glue every time possible. You never guessed their popularity rubbed off as well. You became known on campus as a well-known upperclassman and now a senior.

But you noticed you spent more time with Satoru than with Shoko or Suguru. You could credit it to his goofy, childish personality that matched your vibe even more. He loved discussing Digimon and was happy you shared the same interest. You two would indulge in each other’s interests and hobbies. It became more evident that both of you had grown closer from when Shoko adopted you into their group. Yet, you told yourself time and time again not to fall for Satoru. In fear of losing what you have with each other because you caught “feelings.” In addition, Satoru had many, many, MANY admirers—girls across the school, district, and the Tokyo Metropolitan area. Many come from prominent backgrounds, blessed with being gifted, or simply beautiful in every way. While you didn’t mean to self-sabotage yourself, you were beautiful and brilliant in your own right; you were being realistic. How could someone like Satoru Gojo, from a wealthy and prominent family for centuries, go for someone like you? It was wishful thinking at that point, but it was stretching itself thin even then.

Anyhow, this brings you to the present. It’s December 1st, six days before Satoru’s birthday. You were in your dorm, conjuring up what to get him. It was more complicated than because the man was loaded. He had the money to buy anything and everything he wanted. So what can you get for him that wasn’t already bought? After some time, you had the genius idea to make something for him. You decided on making a bracelet and a framed sketch of him from one of your sketchbooks you occasionally draw in.

While working on your gifts, you were on the receiving end of teasing from Suguru and Shoko, specifically from Suguru. I mean, he was the first one to catch on to your feelings for his friend. Shoko had her suspicions but never mentioned them in case she was delusional. But once Suguru brought it up, she instantly joined in the teasing. It was harmless fun, yet you couldn’t help but rethink your crush on Satoru. Your feelings for him shouldn’t exist, yet you can’t help it. You felt alive, but most of all, you felt comfortable and safe with Satoru. You never hid your lovely personality or felt ashamed of your interests. Satoru was always supportive and was a part of your shenanigans too. As cheesy as it was to admit, it felt like you’ve found your soulmate, your other half. You always relished your moments with Satoru, no matter how short or dumb they were. Sure, you loved your moments with the gang, but it hits differently when it’s only Satoru and you. It was as if your life changed when he came into it.

During the day before Satoru’s birthday, Shoko and Suguru hunched over your desk as you finished the page you were doodling. The smears from the graphite and erased pencil markings showed the fine details to capture Satoru’s features.

“Wow, those look exactly like him. If he were animated, he'd be drawn like this. May I, (Y/N)?” Suguru asked.

You nodded, and Suguru picked up the sketchbook to inspect the page further. Shoko peered over his shoulder to also get a look.

“I think Gojo would love this. Don’t you think so, Suguru?”

“I would think so too, Shoko. It’s a well-thought-out gift (Y/N). Satoru would love it.”

“Wait, (Y/N)! Show Suguru what else you made him!”

Suguru raises a brow at the brunette as you pull up a photo on your phone to show to Suguru. Suguru squinted his eyes a bit to see the picture a bit more clearly.

“You made that bracelet for Satoru? It’s pretty nice. Where’s our (Y/N)?”

“I have them back in my room, Suguru! I just. . . You know. . .”

“So you’re implying we’re not as special as your beloved Blue Eyes White Dragon?”

“SHOKO, you’re not helping!!! OfcourseImadeitmorespecialforhimbecausehereallylikesdigimonandhisbirthdayiscomingup–”

“(Y/N)! I was just joking! Geez, calm down before you pop a blood vessel.”

As you catch yourself from any further rambling, you are about to explain the bracelet to Suguru before Satoru slides the classroom door open. You think it’s him but can’t tell through the mountain of gifts and bags in his arms. But seeing a wisp of his white hair gave you all the more reason that it was Satoru. Satoru plops the pile on his desk as his arms cave in, some gifts falling off the edge and onto the floor. One fell near your desk, so you picked it up and placed it back on his desk.

“Is it Valentine’s Day? What’s with the gifts, Satoru?”

“*sighs* These are from numerous girls all over the school from varying grades. My birthday is tomorrow, so I guess I'll get the early gifts. Though, I don’t know how to return all this to my dorm. You guys wanna help me open them up back in my room?”

You all replied yes and helped Satoru with his pile of gifts. As you put on your sketchbook, you felt a breath tickle your ear.

“Hey, whatcha drawing, (Y/N)? Drawing (favorite Digimon/Pokemon) again? Let me see!”

You caught a whiff of his surprisingly minty, fresh breath. Usually, it comes in hot with the number of sweets he’s been eating, so this was a pleasant surprise to you.

“I’ll show you later when we open your gifts in your room, ‘Toru. You gotta be patient.”

You chided while swatting his all too-close face away from you. Little did you know, a sickly sweet smile flashed on his face upon hearing his nickname. Once the last bell rang, you four headed straight for Satoru’s dorm to open all the gifts he received from the day. Once dumping them into a pile, you each read the note attached to the gifts and opened them up. Some were cool, homemade gifts, others were basic and generic. Most were sweets or baked goods since he is widely known to have a sweet tooth. You all were open and chatty when Suguru grabbed a neatly wrapped velvet box.

“Hey, Satoru, isn’t this from your ex?”

“Which one?”

“Don’t know, let me see the tag. . . From Satomi. . .”

“Oh, her! Let me see, Suguru!”

You cringed hard hearing Satoru talk about his numerous “girlfriends.” As much as you didn’t want to say it, Satoru’s playboy attitude was your least favorite thing about him. All the girls he saw shared one common trait: they never stayed too long with him. Satoru would cycle through many girls every few weeks to maybe a month. He never bothered to introduce them into the friend group, let alone bring them to your shared hangouts. Now that you think about it, he never talks about them when you or the others are present. He never calls them his girlfriends or partners, just sugar-coated words and nicknames meant to sweeten a non-existent fruit that never grew in the first place. You wondered if he would treat you the same if you dated him. But you were thinking too deeply, FOCUS GIRL!!! It’s now or never. Well, not really, but you have the perfect chance to give Satoru his birthday gift! You can make it work for just the two of you! Find him by himself, steal him away to deliver your gift, and possibly confess.

Satoru's birthday gifts from his fans dwindled to only small boxes and clear bags. Shoko and Suguru categorized his gifts as apparel, food, trinkets, etc., while Satoru plopped beside you. You were munching away at some candy, deciding to take a break from opening the cookie cutter-esk presents as your vision became spotty. It was silent for a moment, only the sounds of your other two friends' voices bickering about which pile a gift should go. Satoru shifts his attention towards you, mindlessly popping the candy into your mouth before dramatically yawning, spreading his limbs across his bed. His legs would stretch over your lap. You popped the last candy before throwing the empty bag at him.

“What’s wrong, Satoru? You've grown tired of your gifts or what?”

“That and feeling sore from sitting on the floor. . . Hey! Will you show me your drawing from earlier (Y/N)?”

“Uh. . . I dunno, Satoru–”

“Pleaseeeeeeee?! I promise I won’t crease the pages like last time! Come on (Y/N)!”

Satoru juts out his lip and gives his puppy eyes with praying hands. You glance at Suguru and Shoko, who snickered at your little predicament. You sighed deeply and pulled out your sketchbook for him to see. He was giving you his full attention, asking questions, and complimenting the fine details of your latest creation. You two were smiling and giggling along as you turned the pages. However, you were getting nervous because you didn’t want Satoru to see his page. You hoped he got bored or distracted so you didn’t have to flip through more from your book. Suguru has a sixth sense because he called Satoru’s attention before you flipped to the next page, which would’ve been his.

“Okay, man, we sorted your gifts into these four separate piles, which one should be obvious. . . Look at the time; it’s almost curfew for the girls. I’ll walk them to their dorms, Satoru.”

Before Satoru could protest and tag along, Suguru snatched you and Shoko away and out of the dorm. Satoru stood up perplexed, before shrugging it off and storing his gifts away. Suguru dragged you two to the skywalk and looked dead into your eyes, startling you from his sudden closeness.

“You have to do it tomorrow, (Y/N).”

“Uh, do what, Suguru?”

Shoko and Suguru gave each other a face before looking back at you.

“You gotta confess to Satoru, (Y/N). Do it tomorrow when you give him your gift on his birthday. And before you ask, we knew about your feelings for him way before. It’s painfully obvious, (Y/N).”

Shoko just nods her head in agreement. You knew Suguru had a point; it’s now or never. But you didn’t want to make things awkward for Satoru, let alone pressure him to say yes because he feels terrible for rejecting. Overthinking started kicking into high gear, and you started thinking about every possible scenario Satoru could react to. None of them were of him reciprocating your feelings. Unfortunately, Suguru had to say the dread words no one wants to hear when trying to confess to their crush.

“The worst thing he could say is no, (Y/N).”

Shoko elbows him while you wince at his words. You knew he meant to comfort you, but it didn’t help ease your nerves. Suguru, observant as ever, picked up on it, and from Shoko’s reaction, he knew his words were a miss.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll come with you for support, so it won’t be as stressful going alone.”

Suguru gives you a comforting smile, and you give on in return. Shoko said she couldn’t come because she volunteered to tutor some underclassmen for some Visa gift cards. So she says good luck to you before walking across the skyway and into the building of the girls' dormitory. You gained some confidence and bid Suguru goodnight to finalize your gifts. You framed Satoru’s page in a sleek dark blue frame and knotted Satoru’s bracelet. The marble beads of the bracelet were white, cerulean blue, and black. Complementing each with a small interchange charm in the middle where an Agumon charm dangled freely. You wrapped up both gifts and placed them in a mildly used paper bag you had from when you went shopping.

As the next day rolled in, you were surprisingly giddy to give your gift. You just had to catch Satoru alone and give yourself a good ten minutes to slip in your confession. The problem was you hadn’t seen Satoru at all. Sure, today was a half-day, but Satoru was barely in class. When he was, though, he was flooded by many girls telling him happy birthday or giving more gifts. Since it was a Friday, Satoru didn’t do much after school and would wander Tokyo for the remainder of the day. You knew you were losing time, so doing it right after school was best.

Once the last bell rang, you packed your bag and held your present tightly to find Satoru. However, he was gone from his seat when you looked at his desk. While you tried to find him, Suguru texted you. He said he saw Satoru go behind the school. He also said he would wait for you at the front gate to hear about your results. As you go to the back, you are smiling so hard that it would make your teeth rot. But as you got closer, your sweet smile instantly dropped when you heard a girl’s voice and another voice you made out to be Satoru’s. Your heartbeat repeatedly drummed in your ears as you hid yourself to not be noticed. Trying to even out your breath, you slowly peek your head in a slow, agonizing manner to get a better look. Unfortunately, your curiosity kills your heart as it confirms your worst fear.

Satoru stood smiling, and another girl giggled like a classic school girl in a high-school rom-com movie. You recognized her as she was in the same grade but from a different class. You’ve seen her around but never been a part of Satoru’s unofficial fan club. Yet you could never have guessed she liked him too. You knew you should look away, already seeing what was needed. But the naive sliver of hope forced you to continue watching, hoping it was a delusion your mind conjured up. Although you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you knew the other girl beat you to him as she held Satoru’s hand and smiled up at him. Satoru places a hand on her cheek and probably says something you can make out ‘I love you' before dipping his head to meet hers. A chill washes over your body as your grip on Satoru’s present stiffens, further crimping the paper bag. Shakily, you pulled out your phone and took a picture before turning on your heels and going anywhere but here.

Suguru was ever so patiently waiting on the outcome. He was blissfully smiling. Hoping all is going well and in your favor. He was distracted by his phone when he recognized the sound of your footsteps. He pockets it as he sees your figure walk towards the gates. He cheerfully called out for you but was met with silence. When you walked past him, your head hung low; Suguru knew something was wrong. Concerned, he quickly went after you while calling for you. When nothing works, he steps in front of you to hold your shoulders still to prevent any more movement. Shaking your shoulders, he firmly asks what’s wrong.

A wretched look contorted on his face when he saw your face. Your eyes are shiny from glossy tears on the verge of overflowing from the edges. Lips in a tight quiver, trying to not let a sob escape from within the depths of your hurt soul. You were trying your best to stay together, but Suguru saw you were hanging on by a thread. He gives you a comforting, tight hug as you begin to cry into him. Letting it all out and providing comforting pats on your back. As you start to calm down, Suguru gently takes you to a nearby cafe where some of your group hangouts and study sessions happen. Considering your current state, he keeps you from paying for your drink. Once he got them and sat down, you told him what you saw that caused this. Suguru chokes on his drink in disbelief upon hearing about Satoru’s doings.

“He what?! Are you sure, (Y/N)?”

You nodded as you pulled up the picture on your phone to show Suguru. His eyes widen even further as he stares at the picture. Returning back your phone, he takes a big sip of his drink.

“So, what are you going with your gift then, (Y/N)? Are you still going to give it to Satoru?”

“I... I. . . Don’t know, Suguru. . . I did make it for him, but I don’t think he’ll care.”

“What makes you think he wouldn’t, (Y/N)?”

“You know what I mean, Suguru. Satoru doesn’t really hold onto any gifts he gets. Unless it’s sweets or something he thinks is cool, he’ll donate, give, or throw it away. My present would collect dust in his room and be forgotten. We literally sorted out his fan mail yesterday.”

You glance over at your initial present for Satoru. The bag has deep creases and wrinkles from death gripping it in your disassociated state. You delicately bring it to your lap, blankly staring at the two dedicated gifts inside. Sighing in defeat, you slowly fold the top of the bag before setting it back in its previous place. You gave Suguru a tired smile, saying how wishful thinking blinded you from reality. Suguru couldn’t help but feel pity. It hurts him to see you like this and blame yourself for dreaming about something he knew would become a reality. But he was thrown in for a loop because he was sure his best friend was hopelessly in love with you. The glances, the consistency of bringing up your name, the extra care he gave when it came to you, IT WAS ALL RIGHT THERE! Was Satoru leading everyone on, you included? Suguru was going to get to the bottom of this. He escorts you back and asks Shoko to stay with you until nighttime.

After filling Shoko in, you looked at the crippled bag sitting alone on the floor. Taunting, making a mockery of you, and constantly reminding you how you really let your feelings get out of hand to let you believe a fantasy. How foolish you are, little stupid fool you were, you think. Getting off your bed, you go over to the bane that reminds you of your naivete as a hopeless romantic. You were tempted to throw the whole bag away; consider burning it all.

Despite thinking of wiping the existence of those gifts from this world, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. They were drawings of Satoru and a handmade bracelet with his favorite Digimon, and you were proud of how they turned out. The time and dedication you put into it really showed how much this man had a chokehold on your life no matter what. Crush, friend, it didn’t matter. He really changed your life; you would be forever grateful for that. Even if that meant you always stayed friends. It was a better fate than being strangers altogether. So you decide to store the bag in an empty drawer for miscellaneous items, not wanting to see it anymore. Shoko was surprised by your actions. Though she would understand you destroying them, she didn’t expect you to keep your gifts. You just shrugged, saying destroying it wouldn’t do you any good. No amount of satisfaction or fulfillment would come from it. Shoko just gives you a hug as you lean into it.

Ever since that day, you slowly stopped talking to Satoru. He didn’t notice it because you would make excuses or leave immediately before he could catch up. He thought you were busy with homework and school. It was brought to his attention when you wouldn’t hang out with him. Whenever he texted you to hang out, you would say you were busy or not feeling good. It got worse when you didn’t attend your group hangouts with Suguru and Shoko. It was always the four of you. Without you, it felt incomplete, and Satoru started to miss you and the vibe you brought. Even when he asked Suguru or Shoko where you were, they would give the same answer you did. And it was starting to frustrate him. Did he say or do something to distance yourself from him? Did he accidentally hurt without realizing it? Why did you suddenly not want to talk to him anymore? He sees you talking to your other friends and classmates without a care in the world. Your lovely lips always curled upwards, and how your cheeks and eyes molded to highlight your face, you were absolute divinity in his eyes. Had you always looked so beautiful to him? Yes, but he didn’t realize that until now since his only way of looking at you is from a distance.

Every time he would try to make his way over to you, you gave a quick side glance in his direction before wrapping up any conversation and leaving. This honestly began to hurt Satoru. He had never dealt something like this with anyone else. Maybe when he had severe fights with Suguru, but they would make up in the end since he knew it was mostly his fault. But this is different because he was in the dark of your avoidance. It was like he was the bubonic plague, and you were straight-up social distancing yourself from him. It didn’t matter when or where; as soon as he entered within a 12-foot radius, you were going in the other direction. This had been going on for almost two weeks! It was now the 21st, the last school day before winter break. Nothing significant was happening today besides the classic winter break assembly. He needed to talk to you so you two could somehow talk it out and make it. It’s ironic how oblivious he was to the circumstances he was in. The roles are now reversed because now he’s pining after you like you had been for him for the past few years. You usually would sit with them during these events, but since you’re distancing, you opted to sit with your peers. When you did sit with them, you would be the furthest away from Satoru.

Satoru should’ve been paying attention to the assembly. But his only focus was you, who was on the other side of the gymnasium. You were sitting on opposite bleachers with one of your underclassmen, Riko Amanai. Satoru wished he could teleport himself to you, pick you up, and go to a quiet place to talk. But he knew he had to be patient to make his move, something Suguru had to remind him constantly. Once the assembly was over, Satoru by-lined to where you were. However, the sea of students eager to leave school is challenging, even for the 6’3 boy. He saw glimpses of you with Riko as you pulled her along and weaved through the crowd out of the school. The resistance he met trying to reach you became so aggravating he was shoving anyone who got in his way. It got to the point where students made room for him to pass through, fearing the wrath of Satoru Gojo in a bad mood.

Alas, once he exited the school, you had already gone off campus to who knows where with Riko and Kuroi, her caretaker. Satoru tightened his fists, and his face bore a scowl as you slipped away again. He would have punched the school’s concrete fence if Suguru didn’t pop up in front of him. Satoru was slightly calmed when he saw his friend, but a twinge of unease settled in when he saw Suguru’s strained smile. To a regular person, it seemed like a genuine smile. But Satoru knew Suguru enough to know when he gave these smiles. This one meant he was in deep trouble. Suguru said he needed to talk to Satoru about something over a bucket of KFC with one of the Visa gift cards Shoko gave them. Satoru followed it, knowing there was more to Suguru’s unidentified mood. However, Suguru just stops in front of the KFC, idly standing with his back to him. Seeing his standoffish behavior, Satoru becomes confused and finally breaks their tense silence.

“Look, Suguru, I know this isn’t the best time. But we need to talk about (Y/N).”

“What is there to talk about her, Satoru?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Suguru. You noticed how (Y/N) has barely been hanging out with us. Giving excuses to not hang out. I don’t understand why this happened so fast. Two weeks ago, (Y/N) was fine. She was laughing with us and being a part of our stupid antics. Then, after my birthday, she slowly stopped replying to my texts and avoided me altogether. Suguru, you got to know something. I don’t want to be left in the dark anymore. I need to know what I did to make her stop talking to me.”

Oh, Suguru knew the reason why you were doing this. You told him yourself. You admitted to Suguru you didn’t know how to act around Satoru anymore, in fear of spilling your confession and making a fool out of yourself. You knew how cowardly it was to do this. Not correctly communicating your emotions and actions to Satoru was self-sabotage, and your relationship with him would suffer severely. You tried to ride out your feelings to the best of your abilities. But you learned that those feelings for Satoru wouldn’t go away no matter what you did. So, you thought the best option was to slowly distance yourself from Satoru to heal your broken heart and save your dignity. Suguru was against this at first. But he let it slide since it was only Satoru and not him or Shoko.

What he didn’t let slide was how he saw his best friend paraded around his latest girlfriend. He knew that relationship wouldn’t last at all because there was one thing he knew about his best friend. Satoru Gojo is a lonely person. No amount of fan girls or guys dick-riding him would fill the void of loneliness Satoru faced in his life. He always was told that he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He was talented and good at anything and everything he did. But with that, people only saw him from afar, never really caring to realize Satoru was like anyone else besides his wealth. Suguru knew you made Satoru feel seen and let him dwell on his antics so he could be a teen, not some high, mighty God people were willing to kiss his feet. Satoru fell in love with you but doesn’t want to admit it. Seemingly taken you for granted. Suguru doesn’t blame you for trying to lose feelings for him. He would, too, if the person he liked gave mixed signals and had a cycle through partners like daily outfits even though they heavily implied to their best friend they wanted you but never cared to tell.

You would have made the first move. But with many rejections, some harsher than others, you decide to wait for the other person to say something first or drop an obvious hint. You aren’t going to drive through a red light, only green ones. You often hear the phrase, ‘Girls who make the first move on a guy get the relationship.’ That is a blatant lie and bullshit because it only works if the guy doesn’t care, the girl asking is conventionally pretty, or the guy already liked or was interested in the girl. You experienced so much rejection that you might as well give up on telling your feelings so as not to be seen as pathetic. You thought it would be different for Satoru because of your powerful chemistry together. But he sent many mixed signals, being flirtatious and teasing you, genuinely looking out for you simultaneously, all the while still never giving a break to dating and having a long line of girlfriends at his beak and call. It was too complicated for you. Then, with the incident, you knew you had no chance with him because it seemed he would never feel the same.

“Do you like (Y/N), Satoru?”

Satoru gave his best friend a bewildered look, his face recoiling.

“Yeah, of course, I like (Y/N), Suguru. What kind of question is that—”

“That’s not what I’m asking you, Satoru. Do you love (Y/N)? Yes or No, simple as that.”

“What are you trying to get at, Suguru?”

Suguru visibly groans at the Satoru’s density. This was annoying Suguru at this point.

“Satoru, be honest with yourself. Admit it, you’re in love with (Y/N). How you look out for her, care for her, and constantly bring her up in conversations every chance you get, the longing gaze you give her when she isn’t looking, always staring at her instead of anyone else in the room. The list goes on and on, Satoru. Stop denying it. Do you love her, or are you just saying that because you want to joke about someone’s feelings?”

Satoru’s voice was caught in his throat; he had his answer, but his body wasn’t giving him a chance to say it. It was like Suguru hitting the nail every time, making Satoru feel cornered. Suguru sighed frustratedly at the silence of his best friend, who usually would have his answers ready in the queue.

“So you never really loved (Y/N) then, Satoru.”

“What! No! I do love (Y/N), Suguru—”

“Then why the fuck do you still indulge in your playboy personality? You and I both know that won’t get you anywhere, Satoru. It’s doing you more damage than good, yet you continue feeding into it! Maybe if you gave a break from your causal flings, (Y/N) would have confessed to you, and the two of you would have been dating by now. God, You’re just a headache, Satoru…” Suguru doesn’t shout, but his sharp tone is on the edge of becoming angry.

Wait, what?

You were going to confess to him?

You like him too?

Satoru blinks owlishly while trying to process this mind-breaking information. You liked Satoru, so the feeling was mutual, right? Then why is Suguru getting mad at him for feeling the same way?

“Wait… Suguru...(Y/N) likes me too? Why didn’t she say anything in the first place? Why didn’t she tell me?”

“Because you already had a girlfriend, Satoru. (Y/N)’s not a home wrecker.”

“Yeah, okay. But I was single for two weeks! She knew that! Why didn’t she confess to me then?!”

“I don’t know, Satoru… Maybe because she was more focused on making your birthday gifts than her confession towards you. How much of her time was dedicated to making them? She was going to confess to you but decided not to.”

“When, Suguru?!”

“ . . .Your birthday. . . (Y/N) was going to give your gifts and confess on your birthday, but you decided to fuck yourself over.”

“ ‘Fuck myself over? What do you mean, Suguru?” Satoru said in a hushed but shocked whisper.

Suguru pulls out his phone, pulls up the picture you took, and shows it to Satoru. Satoru’s eyes widen like saucers, surprised by Suguru’s possession of a photograph that captured his private moment. He grabs Suguru’s phone to take a closer look before looking back up at him, face still bearing the same expression.

“Wait, that happened on my birthday. How did you take this?

“I didn’t take it, Satoru. . .”

“Huh? Then who—”

Oh. . .Oh. . .

Oh no. . .

It all was starting to click for Satoru. Suguru looked unamused as he saw his friend’s gears moving in his head.

“Suguru, I—”

“So, do you love (Y/N), Satoru? Yes or no?”

Satoru stays silent with no motions to verbalize an answer.

“*sighs* Then tell me, Satoru. Do you love (Y/N) because she is beautiful? Or is she beautiful because you love her?”

Suguru left a defeated and devastated Satoru in the streets to be alone with his thoughts. In doing so, he hoped his friend would connect the dots himself. Satoru stood frozen in front of the KFC, finally understanding it. The distance, the consistent decline in hangouts, the short conversations, being ‘happy’ around others but never near him, how your smile droops at the mention of his name, and the solemn expression your eyes wore ever since his birthday all added up. It was all because of him. Sure, it’s both parties at play here.

On the other hand, your actions were just reactions to his own, especially when his loneliness caused him to become desperate in seeking out the attention of multiple girls he would ‘date.’ Consequently, it signaled he was looking for something casual with no strings attached, making you believe giving a confession would be useless to someone like him. But that’s far from the truth.

He couldn’t believe he had done you dirty for so long. You were always in front of him, waiting for him this whole time. You were the one to give him warmth and fill in the void of loneliness that has plagued his soul for so long. But he never gave you a chance because he never cared to ask or consider it. He took you for granted because he knew you would always be there for him through everything and anything; you were his ride or die. Oh, how irresponsible of him that not truly appreciating your presence would lead to your eventual withdrawal.

Now he realized his love for you was real and profound as it was tiered above anything else. The way he flexed his bicep when you linked arms with him to stay close in big crowds, the stars your eyes have when talking about your favorite topic made him have this dumb love-sick look, or your smile that always filled him with love and joy when it’s directed at him, he still wanted to experience these things with you but as more as friends. And yet, he was on the verge of losing it all forever. Three years of friendship/pining would be wiped away in three weeks. All because he was scared to admit his fragile vulnerability behind his pompous attitude. He had to do something; he needed to. Or the only thing he will have of you is the memories you two created. Satoru booked it and ran through Tokyo for ideas on what to do. He didn’t care if he looked absurd. All that mattered to him was finding a way to mend things. The only thing on his mind was you.

Because he knew it was you.

It always has been you.

And he had to pull off miracles to save your relationship with him.

It was the next day; Satoru was carrying a big shopping bag around Tokyo, hoping to find you. After spending the rest of his afternoon and night finding some ideas, he made you what he dubs his ‘I’m sorry’ present, which was also your Christmas present. It contained a 15-inch plushie of (Your favorite Animal/Digimon/Pokemon/Character), a jacket you told him you wanted but was too expensive a while back, and (earrings/necklace/bracelets/rings/any sort of wearable jewelry) in your favorite color as you stared at it longingly when at the mall with the gang, Satoru always made a note of that.

Now, the hard part giving them to you in hopes of talking with him. It would have to be a miracle to cross paths with you. Satoru couldn’t text you since you stopped responding to his attempts at communication. In a vast city being hectic in the upcoming days of the holidays, he needed all the luck he had just to spot you in the crowd. But even if he knew your schedule by heart, there was no sign of you in Tokyo. He could visit your home, but he assumes he’s an unwelcome guest since you lived with your (sibling(s)/guardian/parent(s)/loved one), and you confide in them frequently. As time never stops, he’s losing time. His precious time with you is slipping away, never to return. Both and forth, the wind chill nipped and whipped at his exposed skin. Satoru’s cheeks, nose, and knuckles were rosy as his body worked overtime to keep warm. The puffs from his mouth fogged up his glasses as he forced himself to continue searching just to have a chance to run into you.

Satoru is not religious, nor does he believe in a god. And yet, in those moments, Satoru started to pray. He was praying, begging, pleading for any divinity to hear his desperate cries to come across you. Just a chance, anything, he’ll do anything to see a wisp of (hair color) hair walking along the streets. His strides slowed; every step he took was heavy. Until they eventually came to a stop; his chest puffed in and out after wandering aimlessly along the bustling streets of Tokyo. He exhausted himself to the point that he was unaware he was in front of the school’s gates. He didn’t even notice the gates were wide open, and a familiar figure approached them along the adjacent side. His hands were on his knees, hunched over where a shadow loomed over him. Then he hears a voice so angelic and heavenly that he believes he was hallucinating at first.

“Satoru? Satoru, are you okay?”

Slowly, he lifts his head to meet your gaze, seeing you are bundled up well. You wear a slightly troubled face while holding an umbrella over his head.

“What brings you here, Satoru? I thought you had stayed home today since it was forecasted to snow.”

Once pointed out, Satoru noticed white specks falling in front of him. He stands up at full length, making you adjust your umbrella's height on him. Though his signature grin is on his glossy lips, internally, he is screaming and celebrating that his prayers have been answered. After hours of aimlessly trying to find you throughout the city, you were finally in front of him in the most ironic place. He chuckles at your gesture before gingerly taking your umbrella and hovering it above you two.

“I was going to ask you the same thing, (Y/N).” He gives a warm smile at you.

“The school left the campus and dormitories open so students could grab their things to take home. I forgot some stuff at my dorm, so I came today to get them. Would you like to accompany me, Satoru?” You said, adjusting your empty canvas tote bag on your shoulders.

With no hesitation or thinking, Satoru immediately said yes. He smiled as he walked the two of you to your dorm. But you couldn’t help but glance down at the big shopping bag he was holding. ‘It must be a Christmas present for his girlfriend… she is so lucky.’ you thought. Not a single peep came out of you two throughout the trip to your dorm, even with no words, tension building up in the air surrounding you. Neither one of you wanted to make the first move. It was childish to continue like this. There was no bad blood between the two of you at all. But you were persistent in embarrassing yourself in front of Satoru. Before all this, you were never afraid to have banter or say the most off-the-record stuff with Satoru. But it was different when it was unrequited thoughts and feelings, as you didn’t want to further humiliate your pathetic self. Once you got to your dorm, you said you wouldn’t take long. Closing your door, Satoru leans against the back of it. He watches silently as you diligently gather your needed items and place them inside your bag. Each item is packed into your bag, and he has less time to make his move. He knows he needs to say something because he sought after you for a reason.

Likewise, you were in the same boat. You can feel the tension blanket your body as you retrieve your things. Avoid direct eye contact with Satoru for fear of breaking your facade and folding. While trying to focus on anything that wasn’t him, your eyes kept glancing at the massive bag beside Satoru’s feet. It was a decently sized bag spaced out from the items it contained. By the looks of it, you assumed Satoru went out splurging on his latest girlfriend for Christmas.

‘Wish that was me receiving that bag. . .’ You thought to yourself as you arranged the items to avoid ruining your bag.

Satoru snapped out of his trance when the sound of your shuffling stopped. Your head slightly hung low as you stared at the bag with flat palms. You sighed with your head shaking side to side. You decided to break the silence to ease the tense air in your room.

“I didn’t know you did last-minute shopping, Satoru. Guessing how full that bag is, it’s your Christmas present to your girlfriend. You love spoiling your girlfriends with endless money to burn. Keep doing that, and you’ll go broke, dude. . . Lucky her. . .” You slipped the last part out under your breath. Your smile dropped briefly before returning, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Satoru.

However, you remembered Satoru had excellent hearing. He could pick out of the faintest of whispers. When you realize that, you panicked and faced him. From how his brows were raised, you knew he definitely heard it. Your brain scrambled to find a way to cover the creaks in your walls from your slip-up, causing you to speak up. What you didn’t expect was Satoru doing the same.

“Sorry, Satoru, I didn’t mean that–”

“(Y/N), I need to–”

After catching each other’s words, you both abruptly stop to give space for the other to talk. Satoru gestures for you to go first. Gentleman as every. Feeling the anxiety and embarrassment weighing on you, you didn’t dare to look at him when talking, so your head focused back on your bag.

“Look, Satoru. . . I know how immature this is, but I want to apologize for the sudden change in my behavior and distance over the last few weeks. It was uncalled for, and you deserved a proper answer.–”

“No.”

“It’s because– huh?”

Prompting you to look up at Satoru, to which he had an unreadable expression. His glasses were blocking the creases of his eyes to indicate any of his emotions. A chill of uneasiness ran up your spine when you saw the serious look on Satoru’s face. He walks over to you with his hands in his pockets as he stares down, his expression unchanged.

“No, I need you to hear me out.”

Satoru cut off any chance for you to speak because he and you would be done if you did. He knew if he didn’t find you before Christmas Eve, what you two had would cease to exist. Once winter break ends and school resumes, he and you would be in two separate worlds. Ultimately becoming strangers who once knew each other. The thought of it made him nauseous and clammy to the core. You were the sun that shined in his endless cerulean sky. The moon and stars that gave illuminated his night sky. You gave light to the vast numbness he’d endured for all he could remember. You were the light he had been longing for years. And he was going to lose it all because he was a coward who didn’t have the balls to admit it and used dating as a coping mechanism to fill the hole in his heart. So it’s now or never for him to be vulnerable to you because he feared this was his last chance.

“I know you didn’t mean to distance yourself from me at all. I know you still cared about me and didn’t want to push me away for fear of humiliating yourself. Being me, I didn’t notice at first that you were hurting until you uprooted yourself from my life, and it’s been god-awful without you. . . I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

The genuine sincerity in his eyes as they bore into yours. You noticed that. It came straight out of Satoru Gojo, not from the egotistical, pompous, popular senior, but from your best friend. So you decided to up your ears to what he has to say. When you gave him your undivided attention, Satoru knew this was it, so he spilled it out.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t really appreciated your presence. I took you for granted because I thought you would always be with me, with no chance of leaving me. That bit me in the ass once you slowly stopped being with me. But I know there’s more: the mixed signals I gave off, the playboy attitude, and the lack of self-awareness I had for myself. It was a way for me to not confront the crimpling loneliness and numbness I’ve been having. I indulge in my fangirls and causal relationships, hoping it would fix it. But it was just a temporary solution to a long-term problem. I saw the girls as a means to get my mind away from it, and the girls get to be with the famous Satoru Gojo. . . I’ve done this song and dance for so long that it was a part of my routine. . .”

“Oh, Toru. . .”

God, he missed that nickname you gave him. The way it rolls off your tongue in any tone, it’s seared into his memory and mind. When people, especially his ‘girlfriends,’ try to use that same nickname on him, it fills him with unexplainable rage. That name was for you to use on him, not them. They didn’t have a place in his heart like you do, so he always corrected them to minimize the usage of that nickname. But when you said it, it was soft and tender like the snow falling outside. He knew he was getting to you, and it was working. He relaxes as he closes his eyes, only to open them when your hand gently holds his cheek. Thumb swiping it in a comforting manner. You wanted to say something so Satoru didn’t have to do all the work. For him to admit, he took down all his walls so you could see all of him. To you, it was a privilege and honor to see such vulnerability coming from an individual who was charismatic and oozing with unspeakable rizz. So you continue to listen patiently to see what point your famous friend is making.

“But you disrupted the routine, (Y/N). . . When you came, it felt like I didn’t have to do that anymore. You made me feel free and alive. Allowing me to be my authentic self around our group or just the two of us. But most of all, you made me savor each moment I shared with Suguru, Shoko, and you. I always cherished what I had with them. I cherish what I have had with you over the time I’ve known you. I always did. Maybe that’s why the moon and stars shine brighter when I tell them about you. They know how brightly you shine in the endless sea of regular people. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to admit you already had my heart. . . And in doing so, I hurt you in ways I couldn’t have imagined. . . I am so sorry I had to make you wait so long, (Y/N).”

You hadn’t realized your tears were cascading down the curves of your cheeks. Was this really happening? Did Satoru just confess to you? You think this is all too good to be true, a scenario you conjured up to cope with hopeless romantic delusions. But his voice was full of raw fondness. His face had this lovesick expression, and his eyes bore sheer devotion as his tears were caught in his eyelashes. He really did feel the same way after all. He would’ve resumed pouring his heart and soul out if you hadn’t firmly pulled him into a tight hug.

Though caught off guard by the gesture, he warmly welcomed it as he returned the action. Tears wet his shirt as you clung to his chest. Satoru lightly kissed your head before cradling it like it was the most fragile thing in the universe. The once-thick tension disappeared, and a comforting warmth blanketed the two of you in its place. You two dared not to pull away, taking in the moment that has caused mental gymnastics for both of you. Eventually, someone had to pull away, and it would be you. You smiled so warmly at him with love-filled eyes. You wipe away Satoru’s tears that continue to fall and hit his glasses.

“. . . I love you too, Satoru. I should also apologize because I didn’t communicate my feelings to you. I was scared of how you would react to my confession. I didn’t want to lose what we had, nor did I want to pressure you into saying yes to spare me the heartache. I also didn’t know how to act when I was with you, and I feared I would look stupid. I shouldn’t have thought the only solution was to cut myself out of your life. Though these are my explanations, they don’t justify my excuses. Please forgive me, Satoru.”

“All is forgiven, Sweetheart. Will you forgive me, too?”

“Of course, Satoru. . .”

Satoru starts to dip his head as you both smile at each other. You were going to let it happen, but a thought came across your mind as you softly stopped Satoru’s head. With a pout, Satoru would ask what was wrong before he was faced with a panicked look.

“Satoru! What about your girlfriend?!”

Satoru blankly stares at you before he starts to chuckle quietly. You were truly a kind person.

“Satoru! I’m being serious! Stop laughing!”

“Oh my dear, (Y/N). You truly have a kind and caring heart. I promise you I’m not cheating on her, nor are you homewrecking. She texted me she found someone else and ghosted me right after. I’m all yours, baby~.”

Satoru waves his hand as he pulls out his phone to show you the proof, as you have always been skeptical of his words. Once you visibly relax, your gaze returns to the big shopping bag Satoru carried around. He already knew what you were going to ask and had an answer.

“Why don’t you take a look and open it yourself, (Y/N)? You did say the bag was my Christmas present for my girlfriend~.”

Your face heats up as Satoru retrieves your Christmas present. He holds it out, and you slowly take it from him. His grin becomes a soft smile at the reaction to the gifts in the bag. You squealed at the massively cute plushie as you gave it a happy squeeze. You gasped and were awed when you pulled out the jacket/sweater, gleefully trying it on.

“Give me a twirl, Love.” On command, you spin yourself so he can see how it captures your figure. Anything does look good on you in his eyes.

“I thought this was sold out, Toru! How did you get your hands on this?!”

“I have my ways. Now open your last gift.”

You go to open your last gift, and how your mouth was opened reassured Satoru that he was the best gift giver in the world. Fingers delicately hold up (favorite jewelry), observing the glow and reflection it gave off. It was gorgeous and unique as it had (favorite gemstone) being the main centerpiece. Only the best for you.

“Satoru, you still remember this?”

“Of course I did!”

“But that was over three months ago. . .”

“I know, (Y/N). But the way your eyes lingered on it when we went to the mall, I always noted it. Plus, I thought it suited you the best, so I had to buy it.”

“Oh, how sweet of you, Satoru. Thank you for the Christmas present. I really love them.”

After returning your gifts to their bag, you walked to your dresser to fish something out. Satoru watches curiously as you pull out a crumpled paper bag. Satoru eyes widened as you handed the bag to him.

“ While they are Christmas gifts, they are technically your birthday gifts. I would’ve given them on your birthday but chickened out when I found out you had a girlfriend. So Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday, Satoru. They may not be as good as your gifts, but it’s something, right?”

You offer a smile as Satoru opens his gifts. You giggled at his extravagant reactions, praising and adoring his Agumon bracelet that he instantly wore on his wrist proudly. He pulls out the other gift and is shocked to see the drawings of him. The frame fits in his hands as he analyzes each sketch of himself. The detail and precision that went into each told Satoru you took the time and energy to draw him. But it also made him giddy as he looked extremely handsome and good-looking in each of the drawings. It caused him to blush when he realized this was how you see him through your eyes. As he was looking at your drawing page, he noticed the frame’s stand was attached to its sides.

Turning it around, he saw another drawing on the other side. But this sketch made Satoru’s heart beat out of his chest. The page contains only one illustration of two people walking with smiles. However, those two were him and you walking, smiling at each other, and holding each other’s hands. Satoru’s silence did concern you for a bit, but it was shattered when Satoru went in steadfastly to seal the gap between your lips. Your initial shock wore off before you let him reciprocate his kiss. You can feel his soft and smooth lips; he needs to give you his lip care routine. After parting, Satoru leans his head against yours, his arms not unraveling from you.

“No, they are wonderful gifts. Thank you, (Y/N). I love them. . . and I love you.”

“I love you too, Satoru~.”

Basking in each other’s warmth, eliminating the cold and gloomy atmosphere from outside. As much as you wanted to stay together a little longer, the campus would close soon for the rest of the break, and you must leave quickly. You didn’t want to leave Satoru yet, so you tried to extend it as much as possible.

“Hey, Satoru? Can you walk me home? The forecast said the snow will pick up tonight, and I don’t want to go home alone.”

Satoru gives his classic grin before kissing your forehead sweetly.

“I would love to, Sweetheart. I’ll carry your bags while you can hold the umbrella.”

The snow continues to softly fall as the two of you walk along the bustling streets of Tokyo. Although the white puff clouds appeared every time someone spoke and the tips of Satoru’s face were bright red, Satoru never paid attention to the frigid temperatures. Even in this cold white winter, he can see that your bright aura always gave a comforting warmth he yearned for. Making you stand out amongst the sea of passersby, the bright neon lights of Tokyo, and the white dots that continue to cover the city.

The light that shines and gives light to his dull Cerulean sky. Satoru’s world wasn’t grey anymore as he had finally found his light, you.

Bonus:

—A few days later—

“You think they made up, Sugs?”

“Honestly, I hope they do. If not, we’re fucked, Shoko.”

It had been a few days since Shoko and Suguru had last heard from you and Satoru. Neither has responded to your texts as often as usual, making the two nervous. Then Suguru proposed a hangout before New Year's Eve. He didn’t add it in the group chat because he was unaware of the situation. Opting to ask you two individually instead. Even though you two responded, he was unsure if the storm between you two passed over or was still raging on.

However, his initial worries would be meaningless soon enough. As Shoko and Suguru were taking a drag at the meet-up spot, they spotted two figures approaching them. Squinting their eyes to get a better look, they recognized that it was you and Satoru. Their eyes traveled down a bit to see both your hands intertwine. The love that came from Satoru’s smile and your eyes told them everything.

Though the two smiled and high-fived each other, Suguru grinned ear to ear, which earned a frustrated sigh from Shoko. She then reaches into her coat to fish out her wallet.

“I guess I win, Shoko. Hand over that $25 Visa gift card, please?”

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megameatymatt · 10 months ago

Text

Cookies and Cuts - Jake Webber

summary: Jake find's out about Y/N sh

WARNINGS: swearing, SH (self h@rm), Mentions of blood, Mentions of blades, crying, Mentions of su!c!de, angst, panic attack, overthinking??, mention of death, fem!reader.

requested: yup! right here

word count: 1,029

A/N: Feedback, interaction, and requests are appreciated! stay slutty ok bye💋

--------------------------------------------------------------

pink: y/n

red: Jake webber

9:45pm

"Did you buy the chocolate chips?" You say walking into Jake's kitchen. "How could I forget the chocolate chips?" he says taking a bowl out of the cabinet.

Jake had invited you to his place to make cookies while Johnnie and Carrington were out doing whatever the fuck they were doing. You and Jake have been dating for the past 4 and a half months now.

But no matter how many times he's said he loves you, you're always too scared to get close to him. scared that he might find out about the cuts on your arms, thighs, and anywhere else. You've never brought it up to anyone. Not Jake, not Carrington, nobody.

You hated your scars, they made you feel ugly. but you couldn't stop. cutting became somewhat of an addiction, Your only way to cope. It started with just a way to deal with stress, but now, even a minor inconvenience could send you back to the blades, the blood, and the bandages.

Sometimes, you would look at other girls and wish you could swap bodies. You'd take their clean arms and thighs, and you could give them yours. At least they'd have enough confidence to show their scars and not hide under hoodies and long pants.

"Brown sugar?" you say scrolling on your phone as you read through the recipe. "Yup, up here". He walks over and swings the cabinet door open. As you raise your hand up to reach for the sugar, your sleeve rolls up a bit.

You quickly grab the sugar and put your arm back down. But it was too late, Jake had already seen the red cuts that drew across your wrist. You weren't completely sure if he saw it or not, but you avoided his gaze, hoping he wouldn't say anything.

And he didn't. He watches you grab milk from the fridge. As you finally set everything up on the table you gain the courage to finally face Jake. He's still by the cabinet, frozen. "Jake? Are you okay?" You already know what he saw, but you're still trying to play it off.

"Uhm, yeah. I'm fine, just zoned out" He's lying through his teeth. You're not mad he tried to brush it off, you're just scared he won't love you anymore. "Great, let's make cookies!" you say forcing your face into a smile. He smiles back, but his mind is elsewhere, you take a deep breath and start prepping the ingredients.

11:27pm

"I still can't believe you burnt a whole tray of cookies, what a waste!" You say climbing into Jake's bed. "I was a bit distracted okay?" he says pulling the sheets over the two of you. "Yeah, whatever." You say, rolling your eyes.

You've been trying to ignore the situation, but it's been hard. He just went silent, he wasn't cracking jokes or being stupid, he was too scared to even get close to you. You wanted to curl up in a ball and die. You couldn't take it anymore

You pull out your phone and scroll through Instagram. "Hey Y/N?" You turn to face him, His head down fidgeting with his fingers. Then he looks up. "A-, are you okay?" He says staring into your eyes. Your heart drops into your stomach. "Yeah, Yeah i-im good" "You sure?" "Yeah, why are you asking?" He reaches for your arm and rolls your sleeve up to your elbow. His eyes grow wide when he sees your scars, Old and new scattered across your forearm. You quickly snatch your arm away from him and your gaze falls into your lap. Tears threaten to roll down your cheeks and your hands start shaking.

I Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. He hates me. What am i doing here? He can't love a girl like me. Why am I like this?

You drown in your thoughts for what feels like forever, then you hear his voice. "Why?" He sounds like he's holding back tears, his voice cracking. But you can't look at him, you don't want to see what you've done, how you've hurt him. You quickly shake your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. You don't know what to say, where you should start, or if you should even speak at all. Your breathing starts getting faster and he quickly shuffles beside you and holds you. "It's okay, you're fine, just breathe Y/N. In and out, you'll be fine, you'll be just fine"

12:35pm

You've been calm for a while now, but you still haven't said a word. Neither has Jake, he just sat there, pressing your back against his chest. "Why'd you do it? Cause of me? How can I help you get better?" You only knew the answer to one of those questions "No, never because of you. I love you" You choke out. "So what, why'd you do it." He keeps asking you "why", but not even you know the answer to that question. "I don- I don't know, Jake."

You want to cry again, but you hold back. "I-I guess it was a-a way of coping? With l-like stress, and my thoughts." Jake's crying again but you can't bring yourself to look at him. "What are your 'thoughts'?" he says wiping tears off his cheeks. What aren't your thoughts? You shrug your shoulders and Jake asks another question.

"Why'd you never tell me? Have you ever tried to, um, attempt?" Jake struggled and hesitated to get his question out. You knew you didn't have to answer it if you didn't want to. But you did answer it. Talking about it out loud to someone was starting to help you piece your thoughts together. "Scared" you reply bluntly.

"Scared to die? or scared to tell me?" You choke up, failing to hold back your tears. "B-both". He slowly nods to himself trying to understand.

"Do you still wanna talk about this?" He asks worried he might be making you uncomfortable. "Do you wanna know anything else?" you say. "Will you quit?" The question immediately brings you to tears. "It's ok baby, I'm here for you. You're not alone. I wanna help you, i still love you."

tags: @zumarockkkkkkkkk @loveyouuuuuuuuuuuu1 @sturnobsessedwh0re

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stqrglr1 · 1 year ago

Text

Pleasure Pool

Sunghoonxfemreader

Genre: fluff, smut 18+ minors pls dni

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings ig: unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, oral(male and female receiving), cum eating, sunghoons a pussy fein in my head and i stand by that, sunghoon worships reader, reader slightly dom??

Ive went back and added more! I hope you like it!! Have fun!! ;)

[4:27pm July 9]

Theres no light other than the rays that flood between the curtains as the wind delicately blows through the open window of sunghoons apartment. On the bed he lays only in his boxers and his adorably sexy glasses just scrolling through his phone. You walk in, wearing nothing but your bra and panties, fresh out of the shower as you’re looking in his mirror doing your skin care and scrunching your hair to get the water droplets out. You turn to find him just staring at you.

“What you looking at?” You say with a playful attitude. Hoping to egg him on into giving you a plethora of compliments.

“Just a goddess” he says with a playful smile. Beginning to bite his lip as he continues to coat your body with his gaze. Hes so beautiful like this. Almost bare with only a small piece of cloth to cover the delicacy of his groin. His hair plays with his eyelashes as he blinks and stares at you. You hold your gaze on his skin all the bare skin on display just for you. He glows even in the dimly lit room.

“Hardly but i appreciate the compliment.” He sets his phone down beside him showing that you have his full attention. “No, sweetheart its true. You are perfect.” You soften at the words. His eyes drawing heavily on you. He squirms a bit in his seat. Already feeling turned on by your half naked body in front of him. “i love the way you look when you look at me.”

You give him a little show as you walk over to the bed. Crawling across the bed till you’re straddling his hips. “You mean the look of being pussy whipped?” Floods of giggles and soft laughter from both of you. “No, like you love me.” He just nods in agreement as you slowly begin making out with his shoulders. The toned and flexed muscles tough against your tongue as you roll it in circles against his skin feeling every dip of his muscles. God you love his shoulders. You could kiss them all night. Just enamoring the beautiful body he was gifted with. “God you’re sexy when you laugh.” You say hovering your lips over his collarbone. Your favorite. Painting your favorite parts of his body dark colors of red and purple with your tongue is always so sexy to you. Sucking gently and rolling your tongue on the sensitive area making him hiss at the contact. Making him flutter his eyes and gasp at the touch. The way his body shutters and twitches when you hit a sensitive nerve. The bucking of his hips when he gets a little too eager. It’s all so beautiful to you. Everything about him.

Working your mouth up his neck, you feel his hardon as blood rushes through his body. The warmth and pressure against your clit making you let out a petite moan into his ear. He groans in response. Gasping as the wetness of your cunt starts to soak through his boxers.

“Hoon im so needy. Your skin tastes like candy.” He loses his mind, Rolling his eyes gripping the sheets next a little harder. The way your voice echos in his brain sends him over the edge. “Let me touch you please?” He says in a gasp. He hasnt touched you yet. Playing a game in his head that its sexier this way. “Touch me hoon im begging.” He lightly ghosts over your thighs that are on either side of his. Goosebumps form across them. You feel the hairs on his neck stand up as you grip it from the faint touch of his fingers. He travels up your hips and spine. Playing with your bra straps as he kisses the front of your neck, eventually up your jaw and then to your lips. Its light and soft as if its your first. Its passionate and gentle. Hands roaming as the kiss intensifies. Pulling you further into his hips trying for any friction. A guttural moan leaves your mouth. The way you waited all night to feel that. You throw your head back in pleasure. He lets out a dry laugh, out of breath from suffocating himself on your lips. “Needy girl.” He whispers with a fucked out smirk. Eyes hazy and drunk on your mouth. “Ride me sweetheart. Im begging you.” You reply with a small nod. Too dizzy to speak coherently. You lift your hips to shimmy your panties to the side as he shifts his boxers only an inch down to let his rock hard cock spring free, just enough to hurry and get you on it. You give his dick a little kiss with your cunt before swallowing him in. Garnering a small whine from you as you grip your breast and mouth. Every time your tight walls meet his cock you cant help but feel shocked. The way your pussy tightens for him always surprises you.

The way you treat him so good he thinks to himself. He cant help but whine and shake a little at the feeling as your wetness coats his cock. He twitches inside you causing him to jolt a bit into you. “Thats right baby. It feels good huh? You cant help but thrust into me.” You say trying to edge him into fucking your cunt. “Cant help it. M-feels so warm.” Hoon cries. You clench at his words making him groan a loud visceral moan. “Move goddamnit.” He grunts sternly making you comply almost immediately. You begin rolling in circles letting your ass massage his balls as clenches forward into you. You watch his face intently ad it scrunches in pleasure, eye brows furrowed so intensely his glasses slip down his nose. Rich soft moans slip from his lips, he’s practically whining, gripping so hard on your hips you feel like hes trying to rip it right off.

The way his dick hits the nerves inside your walls makes you immediately start jumping up and down. Gripping onto your own chest and rummaging through your own wet hair. The water dripping down your own body onto his creating sensations all over his body. You maneuver to lay on his chest as you continue pumping him in and out of your hole. The new angle making you pant your mouth agape. Hoon just watches as you get yourself off on his dick, kissing your forehead frantically. Going insane at the sensuality of this moment. “M-im close hoon. Bout to cum!” Your nails dig into his sides and your orgasm hits you before you can even process the words; letting out a scream as your juices flood out across hoons hips the act of you cumming made his head fall back his hips subconsciously bucking up feverishly trying to find his own orgasm. He grips your hips and slaps your clit with his navel repeatedly. Making you scream out loud at the contact of his hips tearing into you. Bringing you to your second orgasm as you cum together. He collapses as you try to find balance by gripping his chest, panting heavily, rocking back and forth as you ride out the high. When you get too tired to continue you still yourself. He brushes your hair out of your face with his hands. Cupping your face “That was so beautiful baby. You’re so gorgeous when you fuck yourself on my cock.” You tell him to shut up as you catch your breath making him chuckle at the amusement of you getting pissed at the flattery. You lift yourself off him letting the juices fall out with a gush. You cant help but feel a little clench as you witness it. You can see hoon is still rock hard. He even twitches at the sight of your cum painting his hips. “Wait not yet.” He whines “im not satisfied.” Grabbing your hand trying to make you stay on top of him. You push your hair back as it was falling into your vision. “What more could you need hoonie? I just came all over you.” You’re still so fucked out, you give him a bit more attitude than you thought you would. A little too comfortable with how obsessed he is with you. “Let me eat you out. It always gets me off, baby.” His eyes still hazy from his orgasm. You can see in the quiver of his lip that he’s so very needy still. He’s so in love with you it makes you soften your coldness. Thinking you’d really do anything for this man. The way he worships you, all he wants is to pleasure you. Pleasuring you is his utmost priority. It’s all he wants in this world.

You pretend to think for a second putting your finger to your lips. Smiling to yourself as your hands begin to dance across his abdomen. You know you’re still very sensitive but he looks so cute when hes pleading to taste you. “Okay. Anything for you, angel.” He smiles softly with excitement at your words, he rips his glasses off and tosses them on the side table. Wanting to be able to get fully in every crease of your slick cunt. He shimmies down so that hes right under your hovering hips. “Ready?” He says excitedly. You nod with a smile. He kisses your thighs before gripping your ass, pulling you down onto his face. His tongue flicking in between your clit and your folds taking moments to lick from the bottom to the top to eventually dive into your hole. The wetness of your previous orgasm cold against his lips as he sucks on yours. His nose hitting your clit giving him a satisfactory jolt from you. you begin to shake and tremble as he increases his speed and movement in and out of your hole with his tongue. Cold air from his deep inhale and exhale through his nose counteracting the warmth of his saliva. Creating a beautiful blend of sensation. The sounds of your weak overstimulated moans overfills sunghoon with toxic ego. The thought of making you squirm sends him into a crazy daze he cant get enough of, his member throbbing and twitching at just the weakened frenzied state you’re in.

God he loves this. He loves the way you twitch as his mouth moves in all the right ways. Because he knows how your pussy works. He knows how to make you squirm and plea for more. He reaches up to unclip your bra. Your tits pour out and bounce in front of his face. He reaches to grip them. You take his hand in your and hold as he massages them. The touch of your hands on his as he caresses and handles your breast makes him go crazy. Sucking more intensely on your clit. “Hoon it feels so good! Dont stop!” You begin grinding into his face. The sounds that flood the room make him subconsciously moan and sigh. Sending his eyes into the back of his head in pleasure. He plunges his hips into the air repeatedly making his boxers slip up against his member giving him more friction. Before he knows it he feels streams of liquid pool over his abdomen and under him, soaking the sheets under his weakend bare body. He lets out a hoarse moan that sends a vibration to your core making you flail out of control. His actions become sloppy and messy. His hands slam onto your thighs. Holding you down with increasing pressure as you continue to squirm. he cant tell what hes doing anymore as his orgasm washes over him. He cant stop. Sweat crying out of his pores, his now sweaty hair brushes over the sensitive area above your cunt. The taste of you too sweet, he’s addicted. “P-Please i don’t think i can take anymore!” your body stuns for a moment as you feel the tingle rush through your brain and the heat cascade down your body releasing all the tension that has been building for what feels like hours. Your essence pools all over sunghoons face. Painting it with all the pleasure that plagued your body from just his tongue. He swallows all of it licking in every crease. Gulping as the taste dances on his tongue. Almost drunk on the taste. You watch him as he lightly runs his bottom lip up your sensitive folds with a small motion of his neck. His eyes so dark and full of lust. A devilish smirk crawls across his lips. Shinning from your juices in the dimmly lit room.“You taste so fucking good.” His voice in a deep raspy growl that dances across your brain, teasing the cascading tingles already flooding your brain. You pant and cry out. You plop onto his waist fucked up. Both of you panting heavily like two dogs in heat. You feel like one. You already went three orgasms and all you can think about is sucking sunghoon off now. How his over sensitive cock would feel twitching in your mouth. The sloppy juices of his mixing with your saliva now. You lift yourself back up and kiss him in a sloppy weak open mouthed kiss. Rolling your tongue on his, tasting yourself thats leaked from you inbetween his teeth. You really are so sweet and yummy you think. But you prefer bitter.

You bite hoons bottom lip and hold it between your teeth for a second till you let go and watch it plop back in its correct place on his gorgeous face. Hes still heavy breathing, getting over his intense orgasm. Your arms, weak and shakey but you still muster the strength to crawl and lean our body down till your mouth is level with sunghoons hips. “Need you in my mouth.” You bite then lick your lips. Slowly pumping his softened dick. He hisses as he has now came from only the air, the touch of your hand on him is so sensitive. Yet cant form any words that would tell you to stop. You kiss his tip as he inflates again. His eyes closed and head laying comfortably on a pillow. He grips the sheets as you graze your teeth against his shaft. He subconsciously thrusts into your mouth making you gag. Causing him to moan and cry out in pleas to keep going. You love this view. Just pleasing him as he doesnt have to move a finger to feel good. He begins to grip your hair as you bob up and down his long cock. You always forget how long he is till you swallow him in your mouth. The way he hits the back of your throat is oh so sweet though. You feel him pump against your vocal cords causing you to groan at the pain. He wimpers delicately at the vibration. “So close” he whimpers in a whisper. His nonsensical moans sending warmth straight to your core. You clench around nothing as you reach to rub your clit to feel some stimulation. Sucking hoon off always makes you dripping wet. You just want to cum with him as he floods your mouth. He starts thrusting harder you just tighten your lips and hallow out your throat letting him find his orgasm. You really wonder how he still has enough energy to be thrusting so hard but you aren’t complaining. You rub circles intensely around your clit. “Im-im cumming!!” He screams and growls as he forces himself into your throat to milk himself dry as you feel a waterfall as you squirt all over the sheets beneath you. Rumbling a deep moan against his cock making him moan uncontrollably. Sweet whimpers release from his mouth. He sounds so heavenly.

You release him from your mouth in a sloppy plop. You both pant heavily as he motions you to sit up and come into his arms. You abide weakly. I love you’s coming from each of you senselessly. He holds you close as you both catch yourselves.

#sunghoon #sunghoon smut #enhypen #enha smut #enha imagines #enha scenarios #enha fluff #pussyfein #puss #park sung hoon #park sunghoon

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slimepuparibaba · 4 months ago

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Chaos in Linkon Social Media AU [Rafayel's Birthday]

Part 1: The Plan

Raf's Birthday is in a few days and...

...wait, where did everyone go?

NOTES:

This is all unofficial! Me and my friends made the script and I put this all together in Photoshop

This is an AU where the LIs know each other

Each LI also has a named MC so no one is left out or lonely!

Semi-OOC maybe probably

Originally posted on Twitter but the thread broke so WE DOING IT HERE NOW

I know this is late and I'm really sorry, I hope you enjoy this anyway, happy late birthday Rafayel ;;;

Read each different part here!

Our Cast (According to Rafayel's Contacts)

The Boys: Caleb, Xavier, Sylus, and Zayne

The Girls: Aria, Lilia, Mei, Rinne, and Jas

Special Guests: Talia and Thomas

Without further ado, leggo!!!

March 3rd | 10:23PM (Linkon Time): A birthday chat without Rafayel has been made by his beloved bride! Seems she has plans.

March 3rd | 11:05PM (Linkon Time): Jasmine made a post on her Moments

March 3rd | 11:13PM (Linkon Time): Mei made a post on her Moments

March 3rd | 11:23PM (Linkon Time): A very confused Rafayel made a post on his Moments

March 3rd | 11:27PM (Linkon Time): A still very confused and now lonely Rafayel made another post on his Moments

March 3rd | 11:31PM (Linkon Time): A guilty Aria made a post on her Moments

— END OF PART 1 — NEXT ->

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internetscenarios · 4 months ago

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hii idk if uve done them or if i’ve sent it previously in a request BUT!!

do u mind writing just the slowburn isaac x fem!reader where reader is also a member of tgc 🫢 and maybe you could do before moving into the group house & after the moving into the group house?? i hope that makes sense tytyty!! :)

hii omg yes!!! i LOVE. slow burn. im gonna try and write this into a little blurb bcs i havent written properly in so long!

i just wanna say this is in no way like time accurate for when everyone moves in together!! im going off whatever comes to my mind help

also warnings? im not sure i havent put these before but mentions of drinking and being drunk! but thats the part with isaac hehe dw

it was no surprise you and isaac were close friends, practically best friends. you both watched eachother grow as people, while you saw him grow as a content creator.

he saw this as well! being streamers/content creators together was always a thing you could relate about, whether it be feeling burnt out from streaming, or stressed from editing.

taking this as an opportunity in your friend group, the idea of all moving in together had always been in the back of your mind.

“imagine if we all moved in together. that would be so fun.”

you said, clicking at your mouse aimlessly as you sat in a voice chat with isaac.

“really? i feel like it would be pure chaos. imagine the cleaning.”

isaac replied, his tone of his voice seeming tired considering it was around 4am and he had been up editing.

“yeah but still. meeting up with eachother wouldn’t be such a hassle since we could all just go to eachother’s room.”

your words were true. the few times you had all met up before were such good times, but complicated when arranging.

“i guess. it gives me an excuse to see you everyday too.”

your eyes rolled at his comment.

soon enough, you had left the call and laid in your bed peacefully. but that sentence kept replaying in your head.

whether isaac was joking or not, both of your viewers picked up on moments like these. ‘very close friends’, definitely.

within the span of 2 months, you were at the airport. the planning for all of you moving in together had finally come together!

while you decided the easiest option would be too fly over, nick and isaac were roadtripping down. a very long, painful 29 hour drive.

from what isaac had been messaging you they were already on the road and had been for a few hours.

4:25pm

isaac🐧

we are driving!! only around 10 hours left before we get there

you

really? you probably shouldn’t be texting while driving

isaac🐧

well lets hope i dont get into a car accident other wise this 19 hour drive was worth nothing

you

i hope so too!! im so excited to see you all

read, 4:27pm

you smiled cheesily at your phone before hearing that your flight was going too be taking off soon through the airport’s intercom.

luggage in hand, you made your way too the gateway to your plane.

you made your way too the house, getting your suitcases and bags from the uber. you rang the doorbell knowing larry and tanner were already here as they had taken their flight yesterday.

knocking at the door gently, it immediately bursts open and your greeted by the two, wrapping you in a hug.

welcoming you in, they take your belongings and move them too one side too give you a tour. showing you everyones selected rooms, etc, plus the pantry with the singular yet terrifying chicken sandwich.

you all settled down in the living room, waiting for nick and isaac at the time. it was getting pretty late, but you all wanted to be their when they arrived.

through a few hours and giggling and tomfoolery, you heard a ping from your phone.

4:12am

isaac🐧

we are here!!!

basically running too the door, with their cars parked outside and isaac opening the trunk of his car for his luggage, he immediately turns around and spots you.

pulling you into a tight hug and swinging you around, he places you down with the biggest grin on your face.

a few words exchanged between all of you and a hug from nick as well, you all help bring their bags and other items in to push them to the side for now.

you, larry and tanner give a tour. once coming back around to the living room you see yumi on the couch.

confusion rushes over you before you all pull him into a hug.

thinking back on what isaac said, living with everyone would be a bit of chaos. but you don’t mind!

a month and a few days had gone by of everyone living together. nick, larry and tanner were gone for a day or two since they were helping yumi move in! so it was just you and isaac.

the two of you decided it would be fun too drink while he edited, you were all caught up on any editing.

sipping his drink, he spoke up.

“can you imagine we’ve been friends for like.. 50 bajillion years now?”

his voice a little drowsy, considering his slightly intoxicated state.

“i know right. i think it’s really cute we’ve seen eachother grow as people plus content creators.”

you replied, relaxing on his bed frame watching him move his mouse around.

you had been drinking but were decently sober, considering you don’t chug your drink in one handful like someone else.

“yeah.. imagine if we were dating. that would be a whole other story.”

he chuckled, not really thinking before speaking.

“did you know drunk words are sober thoughts?”

you looked over to him, a skeptical yet amused expression on your face.

“i think you’ve had enough white claws.”

a chuckle left your mouth, standing up and grabbing the empty can from his desk to put it in the garbage downstairs.

“i’m being serious! i swear, look it up!”

he looks over to you, his facial expression seeming serious but a little dull from the drinks.

you let out a laugh, sitting back on the edge of his bed as he spun around in his chair too look at you.

“seriously though, imagine it. like us two being a thing.”

“really? i think we would just be the same as we are now.”

“are you trying to tell me something isaac?”

you joked, before looking back at him and noticing his face seeming dead-serious.

“i mean. i don’t know, it depends what you think.”

his eyes avoid contact with yours, but you notice a softer expression on his face.

“what i think? well you really are the sweetest guy ever. and basically my best friend.”

“but, i wouldn’t mind.”

“if this is something you’re serious about i’d rather you ask me when you’re sober.”

you both laughed, but he reached out and put his hand on your knee gently.

“then tomorrow, we can go on a date. we can go to your favourite sushi place and talk about it properly.”

you felt your cheeks heat up slightly, but nodded.

this would be a difficult thing to tell the guys once they were home.

oh my god this was so fun too write but it took me SO LONG. sometimes i literally just give up on writing then wanna do it again liek what is GOING ON!!!!! anyway i hope you enjoyed this… i dont reallly have liek a routine or schedule when it comes to writing or doing requests so i think i just do them if i feel like it

anyway i hope this is okay!!! especially for a little blurb

#the group x reader #tgc x reader #isaacwhy x reader #isaacwhy #the groupchat x reader #the groupchat podcast

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doorlesscub00 · 4 months ago

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The Last Goodbye

Spencer x reader drabble authors note: Hey guys!! This is the first time posting a fic I've written, so please let me know what you think!! all feedback it appreciated and welcomed!! Short write- Less then 500 words, but potential for a second part!! Not proofread either!! The reader isn't mentioned of gender- It's written in second person point of view. Theirs mention of yelling, a bit of toxicity and Spencer out of prison. It is angsty.

He's been more distant lately. You were growing more and more concerned about him. Ever since he got back from prison, he changed. He grew cold. Pushing you away. The constant fights, unable to even hear you. You tried, tried to your last bone in your body... but everyone has their breaking points. 4 years withering away like it was merely a facade.

Here he is. Dismissive and angry. Why is he shouting so loudly and incoherently? You asked him how his day was, and if he was alright, and then the split happened. Spencer is turning into this unrecognizable person, yelling at you for being too invasive, too pushy and nosey. You just wanted to help. And now he is screaming in your face...

Ring... Ring...

He answered the call in two rings, it takes him two calls to answer you. It was like his entire personality shifted... He was kinder, sweeter, understanding... reminds you of the Spencer you once knew... the one you lost.

He looks at you and answers the line... "Yeah I can make it in right now. I don't have anything special going on. Yeah, I know. I'll see you in 20 Emily."

He hung up the phone and spoke coldly, telling you he needed to go back to work, went into the bedroom and grabbed his to-go back, and went straight to the front door and left.

This time would be different, you knew it. You didn't weakly tell him goodbye and to be safe. No. No more of that. You've done it every time he left, but not today. Did he even notice that.? Probably not. He left, and it gives you at least one day to get everything out, at best 12 days. But you wouldn't risk taking your time. Straight to your room and grabbing all of your belongings, throwing them into your car. Questions swarm through your head. Where would you go. What will happen to the thing you can't fit in your car to bring. Would he care you left.? Would he notice your absence when he gets back.. Would he be happy. Maybe try to find you and try to change. Could he change back to the man he once was.. You hope he could go back to Spencer you fell...

Wait! No. Stop thinking about him. You're leaving him to be happier. Free. So then why does it feel like you have a 50 pound weight on your chest. It doesn't matter. You had to do this. You had to leave.. Staying would only make you loose your mind. Be driven to insanity. It's time to hurry. Not another night here. Booking a hotel for the night and going from there would be the safest option. It's already 11:27pm. You threw the rest of the belongings you could carry in your car, leaving quite a bit behind but you needed to prioritize what you took, went back and left your key on his counter and walked out the door..

Looking back one last time, leaving behind all the forgotten laughs, all the petty fights... Your new start begun now. As you started the engine of your car, you started your new chapter in life. A chapter of which you can only go up. Find joy once more. Backing out of his driveway, you knew you could never go back on what you're choosing. And so there you were, dead of night with the street lights to show you the way as you drove away from the empty shell, the once you once considered to be a warm and loving home..

A/n: Okay so I am debating on making a second part to this- or maybe like 2 different endings to the story.? A sad one and a happy one. But let me know what you guys want!! If I should leave it as is, or continue onto it. Anywho, thank you so much for reading my Drabble!! Means the world to me, but for now, goodbye my lovely cubs!! Till next time, have a wonderful day or night!! Better yet, both!!

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kaedesmultiverse · 29 days ago

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❕SHIFTING SCRIPT TEMPLATES❕

SCRIPT TEMPLATES AVAILABLE IN CARRD

updated 6 June 2025 1:27pm AEST

please read below ↓

before you request , please check the templates already linked in my carrd . here’s how to find them!

STEP 1 : go to my carrd , linked in my bio

STEP 2 : click “more info” on the bottom left corner

STEP 3 : click “my templates”

STEP 4 : if the template you are looking for isn’t there , you can request !

HOW DO I REQUEST . . . ?

simple ! there are two ways . . .

OPTION 1 : above the templates , there is a button that will take you to a google form where you can fill out the details of what you’re looking for . i will make sure to check this at least once a week - it shouldn’t take me too long to make a template :)

OPTION 2 : just DM me or shoot me an ask ! if you use the tumblr ask function , i will make a public post , so keep an eye out on my page ( hint : you can turn notifications for me on ! ) . if you DM me , i will send you the link personally as well as uploading it to my carrd .

happy shifting xx

#reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting antis dni #shifting reality #desired reality #shifting community #shifting realities #shifting script #shifting aesthetic #group shifting #script template #reality shifter #shifting motivation #shifting blog #shifters #notion script #notion #kaedesmultiverse

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macgyvermedical · 3 months ago

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The Bite of the Road

Listen. It's a The X-Files fic in 2025. I'm posting it because I am practicing the DBT skill of Opposite Action. As in I'm for some reason posting has been really hard recently and I am making myself post a thing that probably isn't perfect to show that nothing bad will happen, or if it does, that the stress it causes will be manageable and open me up to the possibility of more positive experiences.

It's whump. Mulder jumps out of a moving car, gets covered in road rash, and Scully patches him up in a motel room. If it sounds familiar about 10 years ago I wrote a very similar Avengers fic, so both the statute of limitations is up on that and you also get Two Cakes. Enjoy.

Also I'd like to say I exaggerated the interaction between these two but I really don't think I did. They're just... like that. They say each other's names that often in canon too, I promise.

There was a knock at the motel room door. At first Mulder didn't react. Not moving was the easiest thing in the world right now even if it hadn't been Scully's order.

He was lying on his right side on the bed, shirtless, hugging a pillow to keep himself in position. His left hand held his cell phone, flipped closed, exactly where Scully had put it. Down his upper arm and left side of his back were shallow furrows, like the skin had been shaved off, very slowly leaking a combination of serosanguineous fluid and frank blood which was quickly drying into a tight shell over his skin. A deep bruise was forming under the injury. The whole area felt uncomfortably hot and swollen and throbbed with each beat of his heart.

The knock came again. "Mulder, it's me."

Mulder took a breath. "Come in."

Scully opened the door with Mulder's key and walked around the bed to face him. She dropped a paper shopping bag on the bed as her eyes scanned his body, a quick refresh of the information on his health status. "The pharmacy was closed, Mulder. But I got a few things."

Mulder squinted at the clock radio on the bedside table. The glowing dial read 11:27pm. "Anything good?" He asked. Scully side eyed him.

"3 bags frozen peas, a granola bar, a corkscrew, a box of trash bags, a few bottles of water, acetaminophen, ibuprofen, a tub of petroleum jelly and the first aid kit from the car." She said, pulling out each in turn and laying them in front of Mulder.

"Such classic tools of the doctoring trade."

"We're going to have to make do, Mulder." Scully said, her voice a little disappointed. "Honestly we're lucky the gas station had more than gasoline. According to the attendant the general store we passed 40 miles ago is the closest place open that might have burn pads or bandages at this hour." She paused, letting out a breath.

"Plus it's this or drive 100 miles to the nearest emergency room." Mulder added. "You called Skinner, I take it." He said in response to her tone.

"He's on the hospital bandwagon, and I can't say I blame him." Scully said. "But I told him your preference and that I'd looked you over and miraculously nothing seemed wrong beyond the road rash."

Mulder seemed to relax at that.

"But if at any time you do want to go to the hospital-"

"I won't."

"But if you do-"

"I won't, Scully. I have so many open worker's comp cases I can't even keep track of them. I'm doing the Bureau a favor here."

Scully gave him a wry smile. "Give me your hand." She said as she tipped 4 ibuprofen tablets into the bottle's cap. Mulder held out his hand and she poured the tablets into it. She placed the bottle on the bedside table, then did the same with the acetaminophen, this time 3 tablets, and handed them to him. She went over to the sink, filled a plastic cup with water, and brought it over to him.

Mulder gingerly eased himself into a position where he could take the medications. While he did, Scully peeled a sheet off the bedside pad of paper, drew a line across the top and marked down "2330: 1000mg acetaminophen, 800mg ibuprofen." She turned back to Mulder, who had finished the pills.

Scully handed him the granola bar. "Eat that."

"I thought that was for you." Mulder said.

"It's so the ibuprofen doesn't tear a hole in your stomach." Scully said. "I ate mine on the way back." She added, pausing. "Eat it."

Mulder wasn't sure whether to believe her, but it had been a long day and he, as usual, hadn't had the chance for dinner. He took the bar.

"Do you want to let that kick in or do you want me to get started." Scully asked. Mulder seemed to struggle for a moment.

"Just do it." He said.

"Okay." Scully pulled the pillowcases off the pillows on the other bed, pulled a trash bag from the box, then walked back around behind Mulder. She tucked the trash bag under Mulder as gently as she could, then lined the area over it with pillowcases to soak up the water. She washed her hands and pulled on a pair of gloves from the first aid kit.

She grabbed one of the water bottles. Carefully, she poked a hole in the cap with the corkscrew. "This isn't going to be comfortable, Mulder, but I'm only dissolving off some of the blood, so it shouldn't hurt either. Tell me if you need me to stop."

Mulder nodded. She let water trickle from the water bottle down Mulder's back, gently loosening the blood and dirt so she could see anything embedded. Even the whole bottle of water didn't quite clean all the blood away.

She saw a few things ever so slightly embedded that didn't flush away with the pink water trickling down his back. Mulder, she thought, had been extremely lucky. But she still had some work ahead of her. Leaving his back to soak for a moment, she went back around the bed, grabbed another water bottle and a gauze sponge from the first aid kit.

"Okay, Mulder, this might hurt some, so if you do need me to stop, tell me and we can take it a little slower." Mulder nodded again.

In the interval, the blood and dirt had loosened a little more. Scully gave another pass, dribbling water down Mulder's back. "Ready?" She asked, gently placing a finger next to a tiny piece of gravel that hadn't been flushed away.

"Yes."

Scully flushed more water around the tiny rock. It didn't move. She rubbed at it with the gauze, feeling Mulder tense under her fingers. "Ahgg" Mulder groaned, his fist tightening on the pillow. The rock came loose. She let it fall to the damp, scrunched up pillowcase.

"Okay, relax, I'm going to give you a minute here." Scully instructed.

"Keep going, I'm okay." Mulder responded through gritted teeth. "The sooner this is done, the better."

"I agree, Mulder, but if you pass out on me I'm not in a great position here."

"If I pass out on you, you can work quicker." Mulder pointed out, his voice less strained now.

Scully snorted. "I take it you're ready for me to continue."

"Finally."

"Okay."

She took his back section by section, working quickly and professionally, flushing out dirt and dried blood and using gauze to remove more stubborn pieces of dirt and debris. She stopped periodically when the tension in his back made it difficult to remove small stones and pieces of debris.

It took nearly an hour of methodical cleaning and rest cycles, but eventually the back and upper arm were clean.

"I'm done with the cleaning part." She told him finally. "You did great." Mulder said nothing, but let himself go completely slack, letting out a breath in relief.

"Mulder?" Scully put her hand on the part of his arm not covered with road rash, her voice concerned.

"I'm still conscious, Scully."

"Good." Scully said. "I'm going to still have to dress the wound, but it shouldn't hurt nearly as much. I just have to make sure the bandages don't stick or we'll get to do that all over again."

She changed her gloves and pulled 4 ABD pads from the first aid kit and the tub of petroleum jelly from the other side of the bed.

Gently, Scully spread the petroleum jelly across the wounds with her finger, then taped down the ABD pads which just barely covered the wound.

"Alright, we're done. Are you still doing okay, Mulder?"

"I'm fine." Mulder shifted slightly and the tape caught at his arm. He wasn't comfortable by any stretch, but the pain in his back was certainly easing now that the medications had kicked in and the area no longer felt as tight as it used to.

"Do you feel like cold might help with pain?" Scully asked. "I got the peas in case we needed to really stop bleeding on your back to get the debris out, but honestly there wasn't a lot of blood."

"Yeah, I'll take the peas, Scully." Mulder said.

Scully laid the bags, now only partially frozen, on the ABD pads.

She collected the pillowcases and trash bag from under Mulder. They were soaked, pink from Mulder's diluted blood. She put the pillowcases in the bag and put it in the bathroom, then collected the rest of the supplies from the bed and set them by the door.

She set the alarm clock for 0530.

#whump #field medicine #the x files #injury #fanfic

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jjjjeonww · 6 months ago

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lee jooyeon - "your number one boy."

genre - angsty romance word count - 679 ~~in which jooyeon just wants to be your number one boy. inspired by rosé's "number one girl" author's note: i posted this at 4 in the morning hahahs

oh jooyeon. he was a total loser, a weirdo even, well maybe a handsome loser. you were the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. your beauty made him for fall for you at first, but after getting to know you more, he fell for you. everything about you. but he fell too deep. not only did he fall for you, but lots of people did. so all he wanted right now, was not only to be one of your close male friends, but to be the number one boy in your eyes. he wants you to see him and think 'oh thats my jooyeon.'. he fell too deep that its not even funny, he even wrote in a random notebook of his that is now his most treasurable book called ‘y/n.' which is based on you, on all the interactions you've both have had, all the things he loves about you, but its none of those creepy stalkers things, its all poems and romance. but there was one page that he wrote that stood out, one that was probably the most dejected thing he has ever written.

"i'd do anything to make you want me. i'd give it all up if you told me, that i'll be the number one boy in your eyes. tell me that you need me, tell me that i'm loved, tell me that I'm worth it, and that i'm enough. what's it gon take for you to want me…?".

jooyeon had become so attached to you that he didn't want to show his true feelings to anyone else. late at night, whenever insomnia took hold, he would take the notebook and reread the most heart-wrenching page. these words were the embodiment of heartbreak, each one carrying the weight of his unspoken love and longing for you. he would sometimes even break down into tears as he read the page, overwhelmed by the intensity of his emotions. these moments of solitude in the dead of night were the only times he allowed himself to succumb to the overwhelming feelings he harboured for you. as he closed the notebook, he would quietly wipe away his tears, vowing yet again to keep his true feelings concealed, even from you. until one day, hopefully he could confess them.

but for now, he couldn't bring himself to reveal his feelings fearing rejection, he would rather endure the pain of concealing his emotions than take the chance of losing you completely. he loved you deeply, but he had convinced himself that it was better to keep his love buried within his heart than to risk the chance of losing you entirely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✶.˚⟡˖ ࣪ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it was one of those sleepless nights again. the clock on his bedside table read 11:27PM. jooyeon got out of bed, walked over to his bedside table and flipped through his notebook until he found the page he was looking for. taking out a pen, he wrote a new line in the page.

"tell me that i’m special, tell me i look handsome, tell me i’m a little angel, sweetheart of your city, say what i’m dying to hear, 'cause i’m dying to hear you."

he stared at the words he had just written, his heart heavy with emotions. the silence of the night was broken only by his own breathing as he continued to stare at the words. he knew he'd never have the courage to say this to you, but writing it in his notebook was good enough for now. jooyeon then closed the notebook and stared at it for a little while before setting down the pen right beside the notebook. he walked back over to his bed and plopped down onto it. he took his phone and went through the apps. no new messages or notifications, everybody was probably asleep at this time. but should he? should he? "fuck it. we ball." he thinks to himself. and ding! your phone buzzes.

#jjjjeonww #yunawritings<3 #jooyeon #lee jooyeon #jooyeon x reader

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da-rulah · 1 year ago

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The Mayor's Daughter - Mary Goore x f!Reader [Part 2]

Summary: Mary has something of yours from your last encounter. You have something of his. In a standoff, Mary suggests you meet to make the trade off, so you can pay your ransom.

Little does he know, you have a secret weapon up your sleeve... or rather, his sleeve...

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Word Count: 9k

Warnings: Teasing, lingerie, nipple play, choking, biting, cunnilingus, oral sex (f receiving), being gagged, squirting, manhandling, contraception mentioned but raw p in v sex still, angst, hurt

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3

A/N: SO listen, this was supposed to be a silly little series of smut one shots with Mary that was low priority and something to do between other fics. Then... I started plotting. And now, the plot is plotted. So here you go, heathens - more Mary filth, except now we got storyline... Huge thank you to @her-satanic-wiles & @angellayercake again for beta reading!

Oh, and I now have a ko-fi if you fancy leaving me a little tip, but no pressure. Love ya!

You stared at your phone, the unread notification on your screen lighting up with each time you hit the side button. You hadn’t opened the message, only able to see the preview but it was enough.

After two weeks of radio silence from Mary Goore, he’d finally text you late this afternoon.

R u willing 2 pay ur ransom yet doll?

You’d maybe stared at it for a few minutes, thinking of ways you might be able to sneak Mary in, or you could sneak out yourself. You knew your parents were home this evening; they’d invited your father’s deputy and his wife for dinner. You were not invited.

“Just business, darling,” your father had told you. “Not for children.”

That had pissed you off beyond belief. You weren’t a fucking child anymore; hadn’t been for a long time. But that’s daddy for you... Treating you like the same pigtailed little girl in the photo frame on your dresser, sat on her father’s shoulders at a Fourth of July parade. She looked happy, innocent.

But that was well over a decade ago.

And so, still simmering with a hint of anger and a flame stoked in your rebellious little soul, you decided you were indeed ready to pay your ransom.

You were ready for round two with Mary fucking Goore.

I have what you need. 8:30pm. I’ll leave my window open. Be quiet, daddy’s downstairs. No funny business, Goore. I’ll have my secret weapon ready if you try anything stupid.

A few minutes went by, when the ‘sent’ turned to ‘read 5:43pm’, and the three little dots popped up on his side.

Wouldn’t dream of it. C u l8r doll.

You smirked at your screen, a thrill rushing through you at the thought of another night with Mary Goore...

Mary sat in his old black van across the street from your house, staring at the only light that was on upstairs. He’d been here early, around 8pm, and seen a couple pull up in a fancy car through the ornate gates that shut your house off from the rest of the street. Your father had greeted them with a firm handshake and a cheek kiss at the porch. Some kind of work thing, he assumed, scoffing at the nature of the situation he found himself in.

Climbing through your window in the darkness of night to fool around with the Mayor’s daughter while he conducted a formal business meal downstairs. How cliché...

As he’d watched, he bit at his thumb nail, plotting his route to get to the window. He could climb up the trellis panels along the edge of your garage, shuffle his way along the guttering and climb in that way... First, he’d have to climb over the tall iron railings without impaling himself on the spikes around the back of the house and away from the security cameras along the porch.

He checked the clock on his dashboard, hissing a quick ‘fuck’ realising he was out of time; it was 8:27pm. It was now or never.

Mary scrambled his way over the fence of the back yard, carefully dodging the view of cameras and the French doors that he could see your father through, sat at the dining table with his guests. Miraculously, he hadn’t impaled himself on the railings, though he did manage to snag his already ripped jeans, but that was no real loss to him.

Climbing up the trellis should have been easier than it was, but he hadn’t accounted for the thorns on the roses that were growing up them. He quickly learned his lesson after blindly grabbing and piercing his palm in multiple places, almost stumbling and falling a few feet off the ground.

But eventually, Mary made it up on the garage, and shuffled his way along the guttering to your open window. With a less than graceful forward roll and a clatter of trinkets falling to the ground from the desk he’d knocked them from beside the window, Mary was in.

“Could’a told me I’d be pulling some Top Gun shit to get up here, doll...” he grumbled, dusting himself off and sucking at the puncture wounds on his palm as he turned around to find...

An empty room.

“Doll?” he asked, looking around to see if he’d missed you, but you were nowhere to be found. Mary’s shoulders slumped, huffing in annoyance as he found himself in a room that frankly was the exact opposite of his personal taste.

Patterned wallpaper from decades long since passed coated your walls, covered in pretty pink peonies. Pretty pink and white bedding draped over a large bed in the middle of the room, frills and lace neatly assembled with a well-kept collection of stuffed animals and scatter cushions against the headboard. Sparkly trinkets and polished ornaments sat on most surfaces he could see with the naked eye, clearly collected over the course of your childhood.

It looked like a kid’s bedroom... A little princess’ dream room. Not the bedroom of a young woman of your age, and certainly not the kind to fuck a guy like him in the stall of the men’s bathroom at a dive bar.

In your absence, Mary took the time to look closely at some of the trinkets lining your dresser; a necklace rack with pretty little pendants hanging neatly in different metals; a little gold tray filled with pretty stones and crystals you’d collected; a tiny little ornament of a pink kitten; a white half-burned candle that smelled faintly of roses.

You really were the cliché Mary thought you were, huh? Mary was little more than a touch of excitement and rebellion in an otherwise pristine little life – he could live with that, he supposed. He too had felt a thrill in claiming you as his two weeks ago in that bar, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about doing it again ever since.

As Mary looked around your room, flicking at the necklaces, inspecting the trinkets, he came across the photo frame of tiny little you. He picked it up, smiling to himself at the goofy grin on the little girl’s face, the pigtails tied up with pretty red ribbons that matches the dungarees she wore. He shook his head with a little laugh, noting the Mayor in the photo and how much younger he looked. Office had aged him, that was for sure.

How he’d come to find himself in this predicament, he had no idea. How ironic that the daughter of the Mayor to the very town that loathed him had become his booty call.

Well, you would be if he could fucking find you.

Putting the photo frame back in its place, Mary looked around one more time, noting there were two doors in the room. He figured he’d try his luck – if he were quiet enough, he wouldn’t be caught. Your parents had no reason to be upstairs with guests over, and maybe you were in a second living room or something? This house was definitely big enough to have two.

Mary crept over to the door closest to him, reaching for the handle. He’d just grasped it in his palm, when he heard a click behind him.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” your pretty little voice warned, more stern than he’d heard it before. Mary froze, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I think you just lost, doll...” he teased, standing up straighter yet still facing the door.

“Lost what, Goore?” you enquired, leaning up against the doorframe of the bathroom you’d just been in, hiding from him as you applied the final touches to your make up. Mary began to turn towards the sound of your voice, then.

“Your little game of hide and see-” He stopped in his tracks, the last syllable getting caught in his throat as his eyes fell on you.

There you were, this pristine little daddy’s girl, leaning up against the doorframe with cherry red lips so ridiculously enticing, scantily clad in pretty red lace. The matching set you’d prepared came with a garter belt, only attached to strips of elastic around your upper thigh. The straps of the bralette contoured the curve of your breasts, similar straps of elastic sitting high on your hips. The lace only covered what it needed to, the straps themselves doing most of the enticing.

But what really got him, was the leather jacket you wore over the top of it, covered in spikes, badges, patches and chains.

His leather jacket.

You smirked at Mary’s silence, watching his eyes drink you in as you showed off more than he’d got to see that night at the bar... This wasn’t rushed, this wasn’t on a whim. This had been planned, specifically to scramble his brain the second he saw you. And if the way he readjusted his jeans and his jaw dragged across the floor was anything to go by, you’d succeeded.

Mary scraped his jaw back from the floor, collecting himself and settling his gaze on your eyes, feigning a look of deviance and irritation.

“So, this is your secret weapon, huh?” he asked, gesturing towards your outfit – or lack thereof. “I told you I wanted that back,” he said, his voice deep and vaguely threatening.

“I propose a trade. Do you have them?” you asked, holding your open hand out towards him.

Mary patted at his chest as if looking for something, hands travelling down to his front pockets of his jeans, then to his back, where he let out an “ah-ha!” and pulled the familiar white lace of your panties from your last encounter from one of the pockets. “You’ll see they’re completely unharmed...” he dangled them out towards you.

“Put them on the bed and step away...” you warned, keeping up the facade of a ransom exchange just a little longer. Mary did as you asked, slowly stepping towards the end of your bed and gently laying your panties on the edge, before holding his hands up in surrender and stepping back a few paces.

You walked to the bed, picking them up and inspecting them for any damage at all. Mary watched you from afar, amused and shoving his hands into his pockets. With a satisfied hum, you balled the panties up and threw them back down onto the end of your bed, turning on your heels to look at him.

“See, doll? Completely unharmed. Now... your turn,” he smirked, his eyes drifting back over your body, enjoying every inch of skin he could see beneath his jacket.

“Can’t I keep it just a little longer...? It suits me, don’t you think?” you asked innocently, twirling around for him to catch a good glimpse of your ass peeking from beneath the leather.

Mary pinched at his chin, unashamedly watching your ass as you modelled his jacket for him. “Hmm,” he hummed, “I suppose... it does have a kind of charm on you, doll.”

You giggled, the sound momentarily scrambling the frequencies in his brain again before he shook his head and refocussed. You stepped towards him, biting your sultry red lip as you looked him up and down with the same hunger he had shown you.

“So... do I get to wear it a little longer?”

“Maybe just a little, doll...” he shrugged, waiting as you slowly approached him.

“Just a little?” you pouted, coming to stand in front of him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He kept his hands to himself, tucked back into his pockets. “Why just a little longer?”

“Because, doll... I ain’t gonna be able to stop myself ripping it off ya pretty fuckin’ soon,” he threatened. You grinned, pulling your body to rest against him, breasts pushed into his chest and hips grazing his half-hard length in his tight jeans.

“Enough talk, Mare... You came here to fuck me, so fuck me,” you told him, hovering your lips close to his.

But Mary just laughed, throwing his head back. “Oh, doll... Nuh-uh... You think I’m gonna rush this?” he asked, stepping either side of your feet and pushing you a step backwards simply with the force of his chest against yours. “Last time, we were in danger of gettin’ caught. Had to be quick, hm?” He took another step, forcing you back again. “But I reckon we got some time while daddy shmoozes his guests downstairs... I ain’t rushin’ this time, doll...”

He backs you up until you can feel the frills of your bedding on the bare backs of your knees, tickling the exposed skin but he stops you there, not yet pushing you down onto the mattress. Instead, he lifts one of his hands from his pocket, pressing his thumb to your bottom lip and lightly pulling it down.

“You wear this shade just for me, baby?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. From this close, you could see the details in his make up, the dark circles he painted on with pale skin, the fake blood dripping from his hairline. The fringe of his spiked hair tickled your nose where it came to a point, and you shivered from the tickle and his light grasp on your lip.

“Uh-huh,” you confirmed, Mary smirking in triumph.

“I like it... Wonder how it’d look on me,” he teased. “Let’s find out...”

In less than a heartbeat he dropped your lip, his hand reaching for the lapel of his jacket draped over your body and pulling you to him, pressing his lips to yours. You whimpered at the contact, your mind blanking with the sensation of being able to finally kiss him again after a painful two weeks.

Mary stayed true to his word, taking his time to mould his lips with yours, tilting his head in order to make you more pliant in his grasp. He tasted as he did the last time you met, with the exception of the beer you had pounded together that evening; the lingering taste of cigarette smoke and a vague sweetness from whatever he used as fake blood to drip down his face.

Your fingers wound their way into the shorter hair at the back of his head, tugging at the roots while your arms tightened around his neck. Mary’s grip on his jacket fell to your hips, pulling at the elastic of the garter belt around your waist. He could feel your bare skin beneath it, driving him utterly insane with want. But no, he said he wouldn’t rush this. He wouldn’t. He wanted to savour every touch, every taste, every noise he could from you.

But he also couldn’t bring himself to deny you when you ran your tongue along his bottom lip, a clear indication you needed to taste more of him, directly from the source. And so, he allowed you to invade, tongue meeting in a slow and deliberate show of sensuality.

Somehow, despite being so much slower in his movements this time around, it felt all the more filthy than your encounter in the bathroom stall. Your little mewls of pleasure and his dark little chuckles and groans added something to the moment, a familiar sense of desperation for each other.

Eventually, Mary pushed you to sit at the edge of your bed, tapping the steel toecap of his boots at your inner ankles to spread your knees for him to stand in the space you created. You did so without a fight, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes and curving your back to give him a nice view of your ass over your shoulder. He pinched your chin between his thumb and forefinger, smirking down at you with a smudge of red across his lips.

“Well...? How does your lipstick look on me, doll?” he asked, pouting for added effect.

“Suits you...” you giggled, “but I’m wondering...” You reached for his belt, unbuckling the leather from the oversized skull buckle, “how it’d look smothered along your cock...”

“Fuck, you’re filthy, doll...” he praised, but he gripped your wrists and paused your movements. “But as my memory serves me, you’ve taken my cock in that pretty mouth before, hm? And as fucking good as that was, I wanna try something new tonight. That alright with you?” he asked, a genuine tenderness in his eyes that let you know it was alright to tell him no, that you could back out any second if you wanted.

But the sparkle that said Mary had a plan was still very much prevalent, and you let your curiosity get the better of you. You wanted whatever he planned. You wanted anything Mary was willing to give.

“Whatever you want, Mare,” you smirked, fluttering your eyelashes up at him as you loosened your grip on his belt.

Mary whistled with a smirk and a shake of his head, “Careful sweetheart... That’s a real dangerous door to open.”

Before you could think of a witty response, his hand wrapped itself around your exposed neck, the cool feel of his silver rings contrasting with the heat of arousal that emanated from your skin. With his thumb, he titled your chin up a little more, before he dipped his head to attach his teeth to the space under your ear, nibbling, suckling, licking over the skin as he travelled down your neck, holding you in place while he bent over you.

Because he was stood between your thighs, you couldn’t help but widen them to accommodate him, his body slotting itself in and crowded your senses. You could smell a cologne on him – not one he’d worn last time... was he try to impress you? - that was musky and woody, only complimented by the faint smell of cigarette smoke.

Mary made his way down your neck, holding you tightly as he moved to your chest, paying close attention to the sounds of your laboured breaths and little whimpers as he got closer to the curve of your breasts. To aid his descent, Mary got down onto one knee, his free hand gripping your thigh for stability just as tightly as he held your neck. To your disappointment, he moved back just as he was getting close to the red elastic that sat above the cup of your bra, still holding you in place.

“Look at me, doll...” he commanded, and you did so without question – a little difficult, with the way he was holding your chin higher than it naturally sat. But he held eye contact with you, even as he moved in to lick a wide stripe between your breasts from your sternum, right up to where his hand grasped your neck. Your hips bucked just a little in arousal, but he noticed. Mary didn’t miss a trick.

“Fuckin’ needy little thing, you are. What, you want me to touch you?” His hand on your neck slid up to cup your jaw, two of his fingertips forcing their way past your lips and holding you tight. “Want my tongue? My fingers? My cock?”

You couldn’t answer if you tried, his hand locked in place, keeping you silent save for the pleading whine you let out. Mary laughed, reattaching his lips to your chest and trailing open mouthed kisses down to the curve of your breast, finally mouthing at flesh instead of skin and bone. He bit down on you, digging his nails into your thigh as he did to spread the light pain further across your body. You couldn’t help the gasp you let out, hips rolling on the bed in search of something more.

“Undo this bra for me, doll. My hands are busy,” he told you. You did as you were told, reaching behind you and unclasping the hooks, letting it fall loose on your shoulders underneath Mary’s jacket. With the tension removed from the elastic, he could move the flimsy cups out of the way, nudging them with that delectable nose of his to finally reach the nipples that had hardened for him long ago.

His tongue laved over the bud, heavy breaths flooding from his nose while his mouth was preoccupied with your tits. By the noise he was making, Mary seemed to be enjoying himself, fingertips digging into your thigh against, his rings imprinting on your flesh.

With Mary distracted, you shimmied out of his jacket, wanting to take the bra off completely. When you’d thrown the thin little thing to the side, Mary’s eyes looked up at you with a darkness, a hint of distaste in them.

“Put that fucking jacket back on,” he growled against your breast. “Ain’t nothin’ prettier than tits and leather.” You giggled around the fingers in your mouth and reached for the jacket that lay around you, shuffling until you had it back on. “Good girl,” he mumbled against your breast again, suckling at your nipple while he slid the hand from your mouth down to cup the other breast, pinching in time with his teeth nipping at the other.

Your hands found his hair again, messing with the way he’d styled it and scratching at his scalp as you pulled his head closer to you. You rolled your hips again where you sat, trying desperately to grind against his chest but you simply couldn’t reach from here, and you whimpered at the lack of contact to where you really needed him.

With a popping sound, Mary pulled back from your breast and levelled his face with yours, demanding eye contact.

“Needy little girl wants me to touch her cunt, huh?” he asked, no hint of shame or shyness to him at all. It made your core burn for him.

“Please, Mare...” you whined.

“Said I was gonna take my time, doll. You gettin’ impatient?” He arched an eyebrow, testing you. You were in no mood to hide your lust.

“Mhm...”

“You want my cock that badly?” he asked, a cocky smile playing on his lips. You nodded, giving him your best pathetically needy puppy-dog eyes. He just laughed.

“Tough shit, doll. I’m sure you’re used to gettin’ what you want, but I wanna enjoy this. And frankly, baby, I’m thirsty. I’ve been here all this time, and you haven’t even offered your guest a drink?” he accused, acting insulted. “Just rude, that. Guess I’ll have to get my own...”

A swell of panic rose in your chest, your eyes widening as your eyes darted towards the door to the hallway. He couldn’t... Your father would go nuts, throw Mary out by the collar of his band shirt and ground you for the rest of eternity – even if you were a fucking adult.

Mary followed your gaze and laughed. “Not from there, doll. I got what I need right here.”

Without warning, Mary pulled the feeble lace of your panties to one side, exposing your dripping centre to him and launching himself between your thighs. His lips encircled your clit and with a loud slurp, and he took enough of your arousal onto his tongue to coat the appendage completely. You couldn’t help the loud gasp that forced its way up your throat, Mary’s hand slapping over your open mouth to cut it off.

Now silenced, you allowed the moans to spill freely against his palm as he dove into your core, lapping at your clit, your lips and your entrance like he already knew what you liked, where you needed him. True to his word, Mary drank from you every drop of arousal you produced as if he hadn’t hydrated in days. His make up smeared all over you, a mixture of fake blood and whatever black and white paints he’d used for his dull skull make up. You could see the pink tinge of your lipstick still around his lips, getting messier by the second.

As he focussed on your clit, you howled against his palm, prompting him to remove himself from your core and shush you just inches from your face, warning you with darkened eyes to keep quiet, or he’d stop everything. You may have a big house, but Mary was still very aware of the dinner going on downstairs; he was not about to get thrown out of your house with a raging boner and smeared pussy juice all over his fucking face.

“Seems I can’t keep you quiet, doll... How do I shut you up, hm?” he asked, pressing his hand harder against your lips as he looked around your room for something to aid him. His eyes landed on the white lace beside you, draped over the corner of your bed, and his eyes glimmered with mischief.

With his free hand, he grabbed at your used panties, balling them up and stuffing them into your mouth until he was sure he’d plugged up the source of the noise.

“There. Now do me a favour, pretty girl...” he leaned in to whisper in your ear, the faint scent of your juices hitting your nose from the mess over his mouth and chin, “ shut the fuck up...”

You moaned into the lace in your mouth, muffled well enough that only Mary would be able to hear. The way he spoke to you, took command and degraded you made you so damn weak for him; because you had a weird feeling you were safe with Mary.

Absolutely, he was a son of a bitch, a fucking asshole, a total whore and the filthiest guy you had yet to meet but there was always an air of safety with him, of comfort and a mutual respect you didn’t seem to get with any of the assholes you’d fooled around with in the past. Mary wasn’t exactly your usual type – unwillingly a cliché, you only seemed to fool around with jocks or preppy guys – but that was because you had always, always lived up to daddy’s expectations. You fooled around with the guys your father would approve of, in the hope that someday he may approve of you in the same way.

Mary was the opposite of that and truthfully, the first guy you’d slept with that made you feel anything other than a dull buzz. For starters, he knew where the clit was and what to fucking do with it – but there was an electricity there, the spark of a passion you’d not yet felt with anyone else. Mary knew what buttons to press, how far he could go; he was running off pure instinct, listening to you, feeling you, understanding you.

He dove back between your legs, the jolt of pleasure as his tongue swept over your clit forcing your legs to clamp down around his head. His hands gripped onto your thighs, nails digging into the flesh as if encouraging you, taunting you to try and squeeze until you crushed him. Your moans were caught by the lace in your mouth, muffled but still as desperate as they had always been under Mary’s spell.

You had always thought there was no way a man could make you cum with just his tongue, but you thought the same thing of men in general, having been left unsatisfied without your own intervention during every sexual encounter with a man previously. But Mary had already proved you wrong when he’d made you squirt on his cock – you hadn’t even realised you could do that.

He was determined to make you do the same again, still feeling particularly thirsty for you. He persevered, swiping his tongue over your most sensitive of nerves, winding the coil in your abdomen tighter and tighter... The only warning you gave him was your hands gripping the roots of his hair, your hips shoving themselves against his face right before you squealed against the lace, biting down and once again, squirting as you came from Mary’s ministrations.

Mary growled with hunger as he caught as much as he could, drinking every drop he could reach, rutting against the tightness in his jeans for some kind of friction for himself, now too turned on to hold back. He didn’t stop for air, never pulled away from you until you were physically pushing at his head, overstimulated and in need of a reprieve.

Mary fell back, his hands catching himself on your carpet as he gasped for air, your cum dripping from his chin mixed with fake blood, white paints and your smeared lipsticks. You fell back against the mattress, pressing your fingertips into your eyes in a hope it might ground you as you came down. You made no move to remove the lace from your mouth; it served to still silence the whimpers of aftershocks that rippled through you, your limbs convulsing every few seconds after brief pauses of stillness.

You missed the smugness on Mary’s face as he licked what he could reach from around his mouth, smearing the rest on the back of his palm. Slowly, he crawled back to his knees, slinking his way over your chest and hovering above you like a serpent ready to wrap himself around you and squeeze your life essence from your body. His eyes looked predatory, and your heart rate that had begun to stabilise shot through the roof again.

Mary wasn’t finished.

“Think that’s my thirst quenched, doll...” he smirked, running his thumb along your stained bottom lip, noting how the red had transferred to the white lace gag. “Fuckin’ love that you can do that for me.”

You did your best to smile around the intrusion in your mouth, your eyes doing most of the emoting.

“But y’know what?” he teased, pressing kisses under your ear lobe as his hands travelled down to your breasts again, lightly tracing around your nipple and back up to your throat. “I’m fuckin’ hungry, now.”

With a strength you didn’t know he possessed judging by his scrawny little frame, he gripped the edges of his open leather jacket in one fist, lifted it with enough force that he could throw you backwards, back hitting the piles of stuffed animals and pillows. You yelped, again muffled by the cotton lace.

Mary just laughed. He stood up at the end of the bed, reaching to the back collar of his cut-off band tee and dragging it over his head until it fell to the ground.

“You want my cock, didn’t you doll?” he asked, keeping his voice relatively low so as not to raise suspicion from downstairs. You may have been gagged, but he wasn’t. He had to still be careful. But you nodded at him frantically, squeezing your thighs together in anticipation.

His hands worked the button and fly of his skinny jeans, shoving the tight material down his thighs until he could stand on them to pull one leg out, then the other. He whipped his briefs off pretty quickly too, freeing himself completely. You watched in delight as he fisted his length a couple of times – this was the first time you’d seen him bared to you like this, and frankly, you couldn’t seem to get enough...

His subtle definition over his skinny form had you drooling, eyes following the trail of hair from his stomach to his well-kept pubic hair. You whimpered at the sight of his cock, completely free from confinement, and his thighs that tensed as his fist squeezed at the head of his cock.

Without another word, Mary knelt on the bed, pulling your ankles apart to give him space to shuffle between them. He wanted unrestricted access to your core, and so began pulling the garter belt from your waist along with the garters themselves, so he would finally make progress and get to the waistband of your panties underneath.

This pretty red shade was gonna haunt him at night, he just knew it. He couldn’t get away with keeping it this time; his memory would have to do.

Now fully undressed, Mary had you right where he wanted you – naked and beneath him, with only his leather jacket on. You were the sexiest god damned thing he’d ever fucking seen.

He hovered above you, trailing his fingertips from your neck, down over your breasts and to your thigh, where he hooked his hand under your knee and hiked it up to his hip. He lowered himself, his bare cock sliding against the mess between your legs. His eyes locked with yours, and for a moment he seemed to falter, as if looking for some kind of anomaly in your irises. Suddenly, Mary was pulling the panties from your mouth and instead, pushing his lips to yours for another engulfing kiss.

You held his head in place, raising from the pillows to meet him and move so effortlessly with him. You could taste yourself faintly on his lips, and eagerly you swiped your tongue over his for more of it.

Mary pressed his forehead to yours as he let the kiss fade out, squeezing his eyes shut and bracing himself as he lined the head of his cock up with your dripping centre. He hadn’t prepped you at all, and so he knew that first push he had to go slowly, he had to be careful – but he also knew you’d be tighter than last time, his fingers not yet working you open.

“Tell me you want me, baby...” he whispered to you, nuzzling his nose against yours, lost in bliss.

“I want you, Mare...” You didn’t even hesitate, whispering back. “Please...”

Mary kissed you again, using your lips to try and distract him from the squeeze of his cock pushing into you, slowly filling you so deliciously, so completely... With the strain of keeping his composure, his lips pressed harder against yours. Your fingernails dug into his head as you held him in place, whimpering into your kiss.

When he’d completely filled you, his hips flush against yours, he stilled for a moment and parted his lips from yours.

“You good, doll?” he asked, searching your face for any signs of discomfort. He found none, but he needed confirmation. This felt different to last time, more intimate than the bathroom encounter. Maybe it was because he was surrounded by your childhood bedroom and very aware of how vulnerable that made you to him. Maybe it was because he was able to actually see you this time. Maybe it was because he was pressed up against you, held by you in such a way that he hadn’t had in quite some time, his usual encounters with women fleeting and rushed.

But like Mary had said in the beginning; tonight, he wasn’t rushing.

“I’m good, Mare. Please, move,” you begged, rolling your hips beneath him for the slightest friction.

He obliged without hesitation now he had the green light, slowly rolling his hips to drag his length back through your sopping heat until he could push himself back in with a more deliberate and angled thrust. You gasped beneath him, his hand once again coming to slap over your lips to silence you.

“Careful, baby. Don’t make me gag you again, hm?” You nodded from underneath his palm as he found his pace, filling you over and over and deliciously hitting that same pressure point he’d found last time. “Good girl... You know I love the pretty noises you make for me, but they’re just for me, you hear?” he warned. You nodded again, slamming your head back down into the pillows beneath you, your hands running down to his shoulders to hold onto him.

His hand drifted from your mouth, instead finding purchase on your hip bone to hold you down against the mattress while he drove his cock deep inside you over and over again. Although a struggle, you managed to contain your moans for the time being, biting down on your bottom lip and squeezing his shoulders.

Mary, too, was struggling to keep quiet. He wanted nothing more than to roar in his bliss, to grunt and growl and lose his fucking mind between your legs but he held back, gritting his teeth around the noises he let escape. You saw his struggle, and figured now was as good a time as any to mess with him...

“You feel so good, Mare...” you whispered breathlessly. His brow visibly creased, his eyes boring into yours. “Filling me so perfectly. C-can feel you... in my fucking... stomach,” your sentence broke apart as his thrusts got harder and harder with each of your words, spurred on by your filth.

“ Fuck , baby girl... You tryna make me lose it, huh?” You just giggled beneath him, riling him up further.

“C’mon Mare, fuck me... Gag me if you gotta, but fuck, just lose it. Fuck me, Goore...” You begged.

Mary buried himself in your neck and growled against it, biting at the flesh and ramming his hips into you harder and harder. Your own whimpers slipped from within, and again, Mary had to cover your mouth with his hand to stop them getting any louder, drawing attention to you both.

Between his hand on your mouth and jaw and the other pinning your hips to the bed, you were stuck beneath him, unable to writhe and move much at all below the unforgiving Mary, who – like you had told him to – had lost it. The sight of him was maddening, intoxicating. It had you clenching your walls around him, earning muffled groans and huffs from above you.

“Fuckin’ love the way this pussy grips me, baby. Like you never wanna let me go...” he chuckled, gritting his teeth.

You were so close, that familiar tingle growing desperately by the second, heat pooling and spreading from your core through every limb, like magma spilling from a crater and coating everything in its path.

“M-Mary...” you whispered, nails digging into his back and dragging across the pale skin, leaving red scrapes in their path. He fucking loved that shit.

“What is it, baby? You gonna cum again for me? I get two outta you, this time?” he teased. “Go ahead, cream on my cock. I got you,” he promised; and you believed him.

Even with the grip on your body he had, Mary couldn’t stop you from curling in on yourself, that coil inside you seeming to wind you up like a clockwork toy until you eventually broke, pulling Mary against your chest and ripping his hand from your lips so you could kiss him, releasing all of your energy into a scream that was swallowed by his lips and tongue.

Mary’s hips never faltered, but he felt the way your pussy gripped him, the drag of each thrust so much harder between that and your hands pulling his body taught against your own. His resolve crumbled quickly, hips frantically smacking into yours until he could feel himself on the edge.

Mary hadn’t cum inside last time, and in the absence of a condom, he wasn’t sure you’d allow him. He’d understand, but with your lips trapping his from asking permission, he was beginning to panic, his end rushing towards him like a freight train.

He held off, somehow managing to keep himself from climaxing until your climax had dulled enough for him to pry you from his lips, smacking his forehead to yours as he grunted and took a breath.

“Doll, g-gonna cum... W-where?” he could barely ask a full sentence in the state he was in, but you understood despite the haze of a ridiculously powerful second orgasm.

“On... the pill...” you’d said between breathless gasps, still reeling from more aftershocks and surrounded by the suffocating heat of both your bodies entwined in each other. “Inside, Mare. Fill me,” you told him.

That was the spark to a puddle of gasoline... it ignited him instantly, barrelling headfirst into an orgasm he felt in every single nerve in his body.

You held him, arms wrapped tight around his shoulders as his forehead bruisingly pressed into yours, his jaw dropping as a loud moan began to rip from his chest. This time, it was you stuffing your white panties into his mouth, just in time to stop the noise reverberating on the walls and causing one hell of a scene for your parents to rush in on.

He didn’t still his hips, rather slowed them to savour the feeling of his spend filling you up, warming both your insides and his shaft. His cock was so damn sensitive now, every slow drag through his mess inside you having him jolt against you in overstimulation until finally, he’d calmed himself enough to be able to pull out and collapse into your chest, his leather jacket sticking to the both of you.

For a while, you lay like that; catching your breath and laying in the afterglow of a damn good fuck. It wasn’t until Mary rolled onto his side next to you and spat your panties out that you felt the relief of a cool breeze caused by his movement.

“I got no idea where you got that mouth of yours, darlin’, but it’s gonna get me in a lot of trouble...” he chuckled, running his fingers through his sweat-damp hair, pushing it from his forehead.

“Oh, my mouth? Seems to me, you’re the talker of the two of us, Goore,” you prodded an accusatory finger into his peck. Mary made a “meh” noise, falling into his back and rubbing his hands over his face, only to look at them and notice the mess of colours that transferred to his palms.

“Shit, was that a bathroom you popped out from earlier? I uh... could do with a hose down.” You laughed at him, nodding as you sat up.

“Me first, though. Heard a girl should always pee after sex,” you shrugged. “Helps... something? Whatever.” You stood, clenching your thighs together when you felt the mess that threatened to drip from you. Ah, that’s why.

Mary just chuckled at the way you waddled into your little en suite and waited patiently for his turn to spruce himself up in your shower, teasing you when he’d seen you emerge in a towel with your hair thrown up and out of the way.

Truthfully, he’d hoped maybe you’d have joined him – but perhaps you felt like that was a little too intimate. He had to remember his place, after all. Just a booty call, and booty calls don’t wash each other’s bodies and shampoo each other’s hair.

Now clean, Mary emerged in a towel with his hair still dripping. You hadn’t seen him without his signature face paint since he’d dropped out of school at 15, and he seemed somewhat vulnerable without it; like he’d stripped himself of a protective layer between him and the rest of the world.

Nevertheless, Mary dressed himself again and sat down at the edge of your bed, where you’d sat waiting for him in a fresh pair of sweatpants and a cami top – topped off, of course, by his leather jacket. Mary laughed at the sight.

“Am I not gonna get that back, doll?” he asked, nodding at the jacket as he buckled his belt back up.

“Not yet... Gonna need it, it’s cold out tonight,” you shrugged.

“Oh? We goin’ somewhere?” he asked, arching an eyebrow as he dug into his back pocket for his pack of cigarettes, pulling one from the box and shoving it between his teeth.

You stood and took a step towards him, plucking the cigarette from his teeth and instead pushing it between your lips. “Can’t smoke inside, daddy will smell it.”

Mary’s lips curled into a wicked smile. You really were the hottest little minx he’d had the pleasure of fucking.

You strode over to the open window Mary had climbed in through, climbing out onto the roof and heading for the edge of the apex, climbing down it to the flat platform of the garage roof, safely tucked to the side of the house. Up there sat a little flowerpot filled with sand that you’d put there over two years ago – a makeshift ashtray for your little sneaky smokes.

Mary followed you, both of you taking a seat to the back of the garage roof, overlooking the street shrouded in dim streetlights.

“Little more rebellious than I thought, huh?” he joked, tapping the flowerpot with his foot. He reached over and took the cigarette from your lips, plucking another fresh one from his pack and pushing them both between his teeth. With a zippo lighter engraved with a bat, he lit them both and passed one to you.

“Thanks,” you smiled, taking your first lungful of nicotine. You sighed, content and relaxed.

“Ain’t nothin’ like a cigarette after an orgasm, is there?” Mary chuckled, the cigarette bobbing between his lips as he spoke around it.

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’ for dramatic effect.

As you took another drag, you caught sight from the corner of your eye your parents shaking the hands and kissing the cheeks of his deputy mayor and wife. Their meal must be over, the goodbye pleasantries exchanged as your parents wave off the car pulling out of your driveway. You watch quietly as they turn and head back to the porch beneath you, out of sight from where you sat.

But Mary isn’t watching them. He’s watching you , with a creased brow and a million questions swarming around his mind. It’s not until you turn to look back at him that you notice, and you feel like you’ve somehow been caught doing something you shouldn’t.

“Alright, I gotta ask ‘cause this is killin’ me,” he said, taking another drag of his cigarette and mulling over how to word this without causing any kind of offense – something Mary usually got wrong. “What is it about me that you seem so attracted to?”

His question caught you off guard, your brow creasing in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well... I assume that in order to sleep with me – twice – you'd have to be somewhat attracted to me, right?” he shrugged. You nodded, urging him to continue, as if you still didn’t understand his question. “So, I guess what I’m asking is... what does a girl like you see in a guy like me?”

Your expression darkened, an anger and defensiveness bubbling away inside you. This was exactly the kind of shit you expected; Mary had stereotyped you, just like the rest of them. You thought he might be different, that as an outcast himself who was stereotyped by the entire fucking town he might have given you the same leeway you had him. But no, here he was, putting you back in your neat little box.

“What do you mean... a girl like me?”

Mary noticed the change in your demeanour, but he was just being honest. He didn’t want to upset you, why would he? But he was overcurious, and perhaps, just a little too honest.

“Oh, come on, doll... First night I met you, you were wearing that pretty little sundress and out with your ‘girlfriends’. Then tonight, I climb in through your window like some shitty high school movie and find your bedroom is covered in lace and frills and pink. You’ve got the trinkets and the pretty little ornaments... and your bed is covered in stuffed animals, like you’ve had that collection since you were a kid. You and I ain’t the same, we’re so polar opposite so logically, it doesn’t make sense,” he rambled. All the while, your blood boiled hotter and hotter, anger turning to rage.

“I mean, you’re daddy’s little girl, so sweet and pretty and the town loves you. You’re too damn good for a ‘shit for brains’, ‘punk-ass kid’ like me.” Those had been direct quotes from a couple of cops who’d gotten to know Mary’s face over the years.

“I am not ‘ daddy’s little girl’,” you seethed, “And you don’t know a fucking thing about me, Goore. You’re just like all of them, treating me like some fucking kid who can’t think for herself.”

“I never said that, I just don’t understand why-” he started, but you cut him off.

“No that’s just it, you don’t understand. That’s all people see of me, being his daughter...” you stood, shoving the cigarette between your teeth and walking to the edge of the roof, sitting there and dangling your feet over the edge. Mary stayed put for a second, bewildered and letting you cool off for a moment. Clearly, he’d struck a nerve. Guilt wracks through him, and he awkwardly rubs the back of his head, his hair still damp but now chilled in the night air.

With a sigh, he holds his cigarette between his teeth and gets up, coming to sit down beside you without a word. He notes your scowl, and the way you avert your eyes from him.

“So, go on... what’s the deal with your dad, then?” he asked, looking out ahead of him as he took another drag. He watches you fold your arms over your chest, the leather of his jacket squeaking as it rubs over itself.

“Treats me like a kid, like I’m not a grown-ass woman with her own brain,” you sighed, looking down at your feet swinging over the edge of the garage. “I gotta be this perfect girl all the time, because that’s the image he created for me; the all-American, perfect family. It’s just part of his fucking political career. I don’t get a say, I never have.”

Mary’s nose wrinkles as he thinks to himself, not quite understanding. Surely you were old enough to have your own mind, or at the very least, to redecorate.

“Well, if you think that’s not you, why do you go along with it? You play the part very well...” he says, watching you from beside you.

Your head snaps to look at him, a fresh anger brewing again, like someone had turned the heat right up on the stove.

“You think so? Gee, thanks, Goore,” you mocked him in your best girl-ish, high-pitched bimbo voice.

“I just meant-”

“You don’t get it. Whatever. Why would you? I never asked you to give a fuck about my shit anyway.”

Now Mary was getting pissed off, his mind working its way into overdrive as he looked at you and your little temper tantrum, thought about your life of privilege – something he’d never had. You had money, a big house, nice clothes, fucking bodyguards at the drop of a hat. And he’d had an alcoholic mother, a deadbeat father and a lifetime of people hating him for his love of metal and macabre. Your lives were total fucking parallels, and he couldn’t understand why you got so angry at your life when you had it all.

So, he scoffed at you. “’Your shit’, huh? Sure, your struggle sound real tough, Barbie.”

“Barbie?!” you shrieked, uncaring if someone had heard. “I’m fucking Barbie, now?”

“Just seems to me like you don’t know privilege when you see it, doll. Even when it’s right under your nose.” He could hear it in his voice; he was being an asshole, he had no idea what your life was truly like, but he was so defensive of his own upbringing, his own issues that he wasn’t willing to see that you had any. To him, your life was perfect, and you were just being a brat.

“Fuck you, Goore,” you spat through gritted teeth. Mary smacked his lips, nodding in anger.

“Yep,” he said, shoving his cigarette between his teeth again, now burnt over halfway down. “Y’know what? I’m gonna go. This was fun, Barbie, but this Ken’s gotta split.” He slapped his hands against his thighs before swinging his legs up to the rooftop and standing, dusting himself off.

“Yeah, maybe you should. Don’t think we’re exactly compatible...” you scowled, pulling your knees up to your chest as you smoked, refusing to look at him.

He waits a moment, chewing over whether he should say anything else, try and fix this animosity and maybe even apologise. But he couldn’t bring himself to say the words... Not when he didn’t see what he’d done wrong. Instead, he crouched down beside you, holding his hand out. You turned to stare at it for a moment, wondering what on earth he wanted you to do. Did he expect you to hold it? To say sorry? To go with him?

No, none of those.

“My jacket, Barbie,” he deadpanned, curling his fingers in a ‘gimme’ motion.

You didn’t speak, instead holding your cigarette between your teeth and pulling the leather from your body. The chill hit your skin immediately, but your stubbornness refused to let it show. Instead, you slammed the jacket back in his hand, and turned away from him.

“There, we both got our shit back. Now you’ve got no reason to come back,” you told him.

Mary shook his head, smacking his lips one more time before he headed over to the trellis he’d climbed up, and made his way back down, avoiding the windows and making sure he wouldn’t be caught when he climbed back over the fence.

Just as he got to his van, he turned back around to see you climbing back through your window, shoving the frame closed and storming off into your room where he couldn’t see you. Mary shook his head with an eye roll, yanking his van door open and throwing his jacket into the passenger side before he climbed in and settled into his seat. He was about to turn the key in the ignition, to get the fuck out of there as quickly as possible, but he stopped himself.

Instead, he slammed his palm against the steering wheel, cursing himself out.

“Fucking idiot, man...” he chastised, throwing his head back against the battered headrest of his seat. He sat there for a while, replaying your conversation in his head. He thought of every single way that could have gone differently, how he could have handled that better rather than resorting to his usual defensive self.

After about ten minutes of self-reflection – and frankly, self-loathing – he turned to look back at the bedroom window he’d climbed through that night, just in time to see your light switch off.

What he didn’t know, was that you were still watching him from the darkness of your bedroom... or, at least, his van; parked where it had been all evening. He hadn’t even made a move to turn on his engine, sitting in the street in silence.

But now, seeing your light switch off, Mary sighed to himself and found his keys to switch on the ignition. His engine roared to life, as did his stereo that was tuned to some kind of heavy metal. His headlights switched on, and you watched from your window as his van drove off into the night. Tears streaked down your face, and you became overwhelmed by that suffocating feeling of your only morsel of freedom running away from you, after you’d managed to push him away.

You’d never felt more trapped in your all-American dream-life than you did now.

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