#anyway here's the best part of the stupid ass 'you have been a mean and bad cashier: now what' video they made me watch the other day

[thesmokinpossum]

the drama of it all...

[breadbrobin]

the trees

clarisse la rue x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of apollo reader]

summary: you have a very specific skill set that helps your team with capture the flag, and clarisse thinks it’s fascinating. in fact, she thinks you’re as fascinating as you think she is.

warnings: swearing, arguments, fighting, PINING, heights i guess (reader is up a tree), possibly ooc clarisse but not too much i hope.

word count: 2.5k

(so the brainrot has (inevitably) spread to clarisse. there’s gonna be a part two to this as well, so lmk if y’all want it (tbh i’ll probably post it anyway but still). oh and also i love her and i am a clarisse apologist and lover until the day i die)

(sort-of-enemies to sort-of-lovers, but more like idiots to pining idiots (in a tree))

(part 2 here)

———————————————

archery wasn’t the only thing you were good at, but it was by far the best thing you were good at. a daughter of apollo: master of archery, mediocre of music and magical at making weird ass noises. bird calls, animal sounds, imitations—you name it, you could do it.

and those were useful tactics in capture the flag, for sure.

annabeth chase was a master strategist, and you had to give it to her: she remembered everyone’s strengths, weaknesses and alliances while you couldn’t even remember what you’d had for breakfast that day.

as always, you were tucked up in a tree, around halfway up. you weren’t too high, so that you could speak and people wouldn’t automatically know you were above them, but you weren’t too low so they couldn’t see you.

you kind of liked being in the trees now. after three years of capture the flag and around six months of freaking out every time you climbed above ten feet, you were finally used to it. it was almost calming; a way for you to relax after a stressful day and pretend that nothing around you existed.

until the red team came by, that is.

that’s what you were waiting for. the flag was around fifty feet to your right. your job was to be a lookout and a distraction.

it was your favourite part of the game, getting to trick people and shoot arrows at them when they came too close, allowing the blue team members around the bottom of your tree to pop out and disarm their opponents.

it wasn’t a trick you used every time—not even the ares cabin are that stupid—but when you did use it, you had the time of your life.

there was a snapping branch to your left. you straightened up from where you were leaning against the tree trunk behind you and peered through the leaves. you were perched on a thick bough, hidden by leaves and branches, but able to see enough through them that you could do your job.

you could hear voices, but you couldn’t see anyone.

you listened carefully. you knew that voice.

you realised with a start who it was.

clarisse la rue.

fucking clarisse, man. she drove you insane. and not for the reason she drove most of camp insane. no, unlike almost everyone else, you were attracted to her. in fact, you were, annoyingly, in love with her, you’d have to admit. it was infuriating.

you could hear her cutting through the forest. it was strange. she didn’t usually come for the flag. usually, she hunted in the woods and caught stragglers. she didn’t want the glory as much as she wanted the fight. to her, winning the battle seemed more important than winning the war.

regardless of why, you could hear her voice. she was talking to her siblings below you, creeping through the foliage.

the sun was warm on your face and you send up a brief prayer to your father.

from your lips slipped an almost perfect impression of your blue team guards. you’d used this trick last game, but clarisse hadn’t been there, so she wouldn’t know. “i can’t believe they put us on guard duty again.”

they all froze in their tracks, looking at each other, then ahead in the opposite direction from the flag.

you held in a snicker. “ugh, yeah, it’s the worst. i mean, why can’t we do anything fun? i wanna fight clarisse!”

you could see the smirk curling on her lips and you had to stop yourself from blushing.

you continued this cat and mouse game. the ares kids below you fanned out, aiming to surround you. it would have been a smart move, if there was actually a flag there and not just a tree.

slowly, they inched in, then leapt out.

“ahh!! you caught us! i’ve been impaled!”

they looked around in fear and confusion but clarisse looked straight up. she always did.

“hey, angel, nice voice,” she mocked. “wanna come on down?”

you shook your head. “no, thanks, i’m comfortable.”

she raised and eyebrow, seeing your arrow drawn and pointed directly at her. “that’s not necessary.”

“isn’t it?” your arrow flew and, though she hit it away, you teammates came pouring out of the foliage, having been waiting for your signal.

a fight ensued. it looked like it was going well for a short while, then the tides turned.

they weren’t as caught off guard as they usually were. hell, clarisse was even smiling!

with what looked like very little effort, the ares campers effectively destroyed your teammates. they were left disarmed and defeated, and you were stuck in a tree. typical.

as her siblings took their weapons, clarisse looked up at you. “you wanna come down now?”

you shook your head. “rather not. the view from up here is pretty good.”

she muttered something to herself, but you couldn’t hear her. then she spoke up. “what if we come up there?”

you drew your bow back immediately and an arrow pierced the dirt right in front of her foot.

she looked down at it, then back up at you, an amused smirk on her face. “right, silly me.”

that surprised you. she was usually cold and cruel in capture the flag, always taking no prisoners and leaving no survivors—in a technical sense. you’d seen people nursing their minor wounds after the games when your siblings forced you to help out in the infirmary (not that you’re much help in there, but regardless), and everyone heard the stories they’d tell of clarisse appearing out of the ferns and attacking ruthlessly. so why was she not being so ruthless today?

she was certainly cruel in her fight against your team members, but any other day, she would have thrown her spear at you or thrown one of your arrows back, or even climbed up anyway. instead, she just smirked up at you, content to wait.

“where’s the flag, bows?” she asked, using a nickname she’d only used a few times, one that referenced both the bows you used and the bows you sometimes put in your hair.

you shrugged. “dunno. they don’t tell me anything. i just get out here and told to be annoying.” your traitorous eyes flickered to the direction of the flag. you’d never been good at lying.

and curse her, clarisse noticed. she always noticed when it came to you, it seemed. whether it was catching you in a lie, catching you when you were admiring her or catching your every move when sparring, she always noticed.

she nodded at her siblings and they moved off. “i’ll wait here. try and flush our squirrel out.”

if they were confused or surprised, they didn’t show it.

once they were gone, clarisse plucked the arrow from the dirt and studied it. “this is new.”

“sam from hephaestus made them,” you said meekly. why would she stay behind? it didn’t make sense. you weren’t a threat, or even a good fight.

her face darkened. “oh. and where is your boyfriend now, then? hm?”

your cheeks flamed. “he’s not my boyfriend.” and it was true. he wasn’t. despite the fact that he liked you and made things for you all the time, your heart was decidedly with another. and she was right below you, tossing your prized arrow aside like an old tissue. “he’s on your team anyway. you should know where he is.”

she smirked again. “oh, yeah. i remember now. that’s right, i sent him to try and get our flag. he didn’t even make it five steps before he was attacked.”

her bitter laugh made your heart clench. was it pity for sam or your feelings for her, or both? you weren’t sure. either way, it was starting to get on your nerves.

it was silent for a long time. she looked up at you every few seconds, then at the tree, like she was gauging how hard she’d have to push you for you to die on impact. her eyes were sharp and her smile was sharper, and fuck you were attracted to her.

you cleared your throat and broke the silence, hearing fighting off in the near distance. you would go and help, but the only way for you to do so would be to tree-hop all the way to the flag, and while you could do it, it wasn’t the best idea. “why did you stay h—what are you doing?” you aimed an arrow at her.

“relax, angel, we both know you won’t actually shoot me.” she was climbing up the tree. fast. “and don’t worry, i’m not gonna push you out or attack you. i don’t like looking up at you.”

call you stupid or whipped or whatever, but you believed her. you lowered your bow but didn’t lessen the tension on your string. she’d almost reached your branch when you swivelled around to face her. you moved fast, your arrow returning to its holster and you body facing the trunk of the tree with your legs swung over each side of the wide bough. your dagger was swiftly removed from its holster and pressed under clarisse’s chin.

she laughed at you.

you faltered slightly. “what?”

“nothing,” she snickered. “i just saw it coming. now scoot back.”

you dropped your dagger and shifted backwards, glad the bough was strong.

she clambered onto your branch easily, sitting facing you with her back against the tree trunk, a smirk on her face.

you sighed bitterly. “you see everything coming.”

she shrugged. “pretty much. but so do you.”

“that’s the gift of divine premonition,” you grumbled. it could be useful sometimes, but all you really got was a sense, a feeling or, occasionally, a single frame of a moment. right now, though, your senses were so clogged with her vanilla-strawberry and leather scent, and with her, that you could hardly think, let alone experience a minor prophecy. not to mention the fact that if you did, you’d probably fall out of the tree.

she shrugged. “isn’t that useful?”

“yeah, when it actually works or doesn’t make me pass out.” you shrugged. “it’s temperamental.”

she hummed in thought, leaning back and crossing her arms. her knees were mere centimetres from yours.

“what are you doing up here, clarisse?” you asked.

she shrugged, but you could see a shift in her demeanour when she said your name. it was like the muscles in her shoulders relaxed for a moment, then tensed again. “didn’t want you to escape.”

“so you let your other prisoners escape?” you gestured to the ground, where your teammates were sitting around fifteen feet from the tree in a circle, plucking the grass.

clarisse raised her eyebrows at you in amusement. “oh, i think they’re fine. they’re too scared of me to do anything, anyway.”

you narrowed your eyes at her. “i don’t think you’re that scary.”

she rolled her eyes. “sure. but everyone else does. so you’re wrong.”

“it was my opinion. my opinion can’t be wrong if it’s my opinion.” that was another thing: you were never one to start an argument, but by god would you escalate it.

“your opinions wrong if i say it’s wrong,” she huffed, her jaw tight.

“not how opinions work, babe,” you said lightly, using your dagger point to carve away at the bark beneath you.

she smacked your hand to stop you. “you’re gonna dull it!”

“the point is already dull!” you protested, poking your finger to show her. it indented, but didn’t draw blood. “see?”

“so, what, you threatened me with a butter knife? i’m offended.”

“it’s the idea of it that cuts deeper anyway. the primal fear of being gutted by a dagger. in capture the flag at least.” you shrugged, carving a wonky flower in the bark. “it’s more about threats than action.”

clarisse rolled her eyes. “and what if a monster comes and attacks you, and all you’ve got is this blunt dagger?”

“you ever seen an archers muscles?” you turned slightly and flexed your shoulders. you could see her eyes follow the sharp lines of your shoulders and back. “i’ll use force. force is more effective than sharpness. you know that.”

“and yet, my weapons are all still sharp.” she snatched the dagger from you and pulled out a whetstone from a pocket in her cargo pants. she began sharpening your blade.

“hey, don’t—“

she smacked your hand with the flat of your own blade when you reached for it, and you withdrawn with a hiss, shaking your hand. she laughed. “i guess force is more important, huh, angel?”

your cheeks were hot. “don’t call me that.”

“why, you worried you might like it?” she looked up, teasing. her eyes narrowed at the look on your face and then she grinned. “you do like it.”

“no. shut up.”

she laughed again, but it was a little softer than usual. she looked back down at the dagger. “did sam make this for you?”

“yeah, w—clarisse!” you gasped as she dropped it off the bough. or, more accurately, threw it off the bough. “what was that for?”

she shrugged. “it’s not that good. i’ll get you a better one from the ares stash. don’t worry.”

you glared at her. “that was mine, though!”

“it was blunt and poorly made,” she protested. “it wasn’t good enough for you.”

the way she said it made you think there was a double meaning there.

“he’s not good enough for you,” she said, softer, proving you right.

your eyes were wide and your cheeks were flaming. “what?”

“you heard me.” her softness was staying, it seemed. if you weren’t mistaken, her hand was reaching for yours. “he’s not. you know he’s not. why do you like him?”

before you could respond, a horn blew in the distance and cheering erupted from around the forest. red team had won.

clarisse didn’t look happy. she leaned back—you hadn’t even realised she’d leaned forward—and glared at the bough between you both.

“congratulations,” you said softly. “you deserved the win.”

“yeah, we did.” her voice carried very little enthusiasm.

you studied her face for a minute, like you were committing every feature to memory. “clarisse…”

she didn’t respond. instead, she swung her leg over the bough and started climbing down. only when she got two branches down did you begin to follow her, hurrying in your attempt to catch up. you couldn’t. no matter how good you were at something, she was better.

she nodded at you as she walked off, your foot caught in a tight spot.

once you’d finally got down, your teammates were surrounding you. some asked you what had happened, some accused you of being a double agent for them, some asked if you were okay.

you answered them all absently as you all walked back towards the stream, but your heart wasn’t in it. what the hell was going on?

you’d reached the stream by the time you realised you’d left your dagger behind, and you were back at your cabin, trying to fall asleep, when you realised that it didn’t bother you at all.

(part 2)

[singmyaubade]

No Longer Yours

James Potter x Female!Reader

IB: In The Cold November Rain by @sweetsweetjellybean (Make sure to check it out, it’s incredible and one of the best I’ve ever read !)

A/N: First, I wanna say thank you to @sweetsweetjellybean for letting me be inspired by her story even though I am stupid, lol, but seriously (not kissing ass), check her series out; it is fantastic. Thank you to everyone for the kind comments, reblogs, and likes. I'm overwhelmed with love, and I'm so thankful that people actually want to read more of what I write but anyways, enjoy!

Summary: James had disregarded you for multiple years, but when you have an epiphany in your final year, how does it feel to taste his own medicine?

Warning: It may contain swearing and soon-to-be smut.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

"Are you sure you don't want me to walk you all the way?" Your mother asked, squeezing your hand.

"I'll be fine," You caressed her hand, "I'm still your baby, though."

She laughed lightly, "Make sure to write always," She held your face with her hands, "Have fun; it's your last year."

You touched her hand on your cheek, "I will."

You hugged her one last time, taking in her scent. Every time you said bye to her, it was as sad as the first, without you crying and begging to stay.

"Okay," She smiled, taking her hands off your face, "Are you still sure you don't wanna wait for James here? I mean, you've done it all these years."

Little did she know, you had been ignoring James's letters, all 128 of them. He had been persistent, asking you what was wrong and begging for a reply to know you were safe.

You even received a letter from his mother, Euphemia Potter, asking how you were and everything was in Paris. You would never have it in your heart to ignore Ms. Potter, so you replied dutifully and happily.

And then you got a letter from him saying,

Dear Y/n,

Are you really going to reply to my mother and not me?

Sincerely,

Your BEST FRIEND, James Potter.

You didn't reply, scoffing at the bolded best friend. The last letter you received was last week, him telling you he couldn't wait to see you and wanted to talk as soon as he got to you.

Bullshit.

"Yeah," You gulped, "I'm just gonna meet him inside."

"Well, I'm sure he misses you," She started fixing your coat, "I mean, you have been in Paris all of this time, and I just think it would be good for you to-"

You cut her off, pecking her cheek, "Love you!" You yelled, going towards the train.

She shook her head, "Be safe!"

You smiled at her, going through the wall to the train. The feeling still felt the same, nostalgic. This was the last time boarding the train, and it felt sad.

You remembered the first time you ever boarded it. James was practically high on excitement on his first day at Hogwarts. You were scared out of your bloody mind, not wanting to leave your mum and dad.

When you had finally stopped crying and holding onto your mother's leg, James was the one to hold your hand and tell you that he would take care of you.

Maybe that was the first time you had realized James was more than a friend to you, or perhaps you were a naive child.

But either way, he was the one that you needed protecting from. You realized he hadn't been your friend since the fourth year.

But this year wasn't about James; it was about you having the best last year of Hogwarts that you could have ever had.

You boarded the train, moving through the compartments to where Marlene, Mary, Dorcas, and Lily usually were.

Compartment 222.

It was pretty lucky; it is where you guys first met.

You opened the compartment, "Did you guys miss me?"

They excitedly cheered, "Now tell me, Y/n, how many French boys did you end up shagging in France?" Marlene asked.

"I would say about thirty, oui oui." You joked in a French accent as they all started laughing.

You sat down next to Dorcas, giving her a side hug. You saw Lily and Mary whisper something to each other, to which Mary said, "Just say it!"

You could see Dorcas in the corner of your eye, shaking her head no aggressively. Apparently, Marlene was the only one not in the plan, continuing to look at her newsletter.

Your eyebrow raised, "Am I missing something?"

"It's really nothing," Lily nervously said.

"Okay, so what is it?" You laughed.

"Well," Lily fiddled with her fingers, "You know how you specifically requested that none of us tell James that you were replying to our letters and not purposely ignoring him."

You said, "Uhuh." Already knowing where this going.

"Well, I accidentally let it slip out over the letter you had spoken to Marlene and me." She admitted.

Your mouth agape, "Lily."

"I know, I know," She groaned, "It was a total accident."

"How do you accidentally slip something out over letter?" Marlene snorted, earning a glare from Lily, but she still looked at her newsletter.

"What did he say after?" You asked, kneading your forehead.

"Why is she ignoring me?" Lily answered, "I just said it was none of my business, nor was I involved."

The group stayed in silence, waiting for you to reply.

You sighed, thinking about how much James would bother you more now that he knew you ignored him.

"Are you mad at me?" Lily asked quietly.

"No, of course not," You smiled, looking at her, "I just don't want to talk to him and explain everything,"

"Who says you have to?" Mary asked.

You looked at her confused, "I just can't ignore him." You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"And why not?" Marlene asked, now looking at you.

You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. You thought about it harder, and why wouldn't you be able to ignore James? Maybe it was hard because you have never done it before.

"So I just don't reply when he tries to talk to me?" You asked.

"Well, I don't support this, but," Lily started, "You could always just walk away when he says something to you."

"Wouldn't that be mean?" You asked.

"What did I tell you in person and in the letter?" Dorcas asked as you looked at her.

"Give him hell."

"So do it." She said.

They were right; you couldn't keep explaining to James what he did wrong; you just had to be done with him. You missed your friendship, but it took a turn years ago; you never said anything.

And you had to start not caring about him.

"So, how was your guy's summer?" You changed the subject, grinning as Marlene went on about how she perfected her Quidditch skills and would finally be the best chaser at Hogwarts.

Then Lily talked about her poetry that she started over the summer and how her sister had ripped a few of them, but she fixed them with a single swish of her wand and appreciated magic more.

Mary talked about how many soap operas she had seen and how she might even go into it after she graduates from Hogwarts.

Lastly, Dorcas talked about how this year was her year to be a seeker and how she got a whole book collection from her sister in New Zealand.

You began talking about how you tasted so many new foods and learned a bit of French, showing off your knowledge of the profound language.

You were interrupted by someone opening the compartment doors, "Hello," Remus greeted as you stood up to hug him immediately.

He caught you as you almost made him fall over by the movement, "Remmy, how much I have missed you," You said, kissing him on the cheek.

"And Y/n, how was France?" He asked, smiling.

"Quite a bore; every man was all over me; I was getting exhausted," You exhaled, sitting back in your seat.

"Well, if you ever want to get with a real man, I'm here, Y/n," Sirius said, nudging next to you as you looked disgusted.

"Did you have to bring him?" Dorcas asked Remus, rolling her eyes.

"He insisted," Remus shrugged.

"There needs to be some form of restraining order against him by all of us," Mary sighed.

"I thought his STDs were enough of a restraining order for us to keep away from him," Marlene teased.

Sirius interrupted before another insult could be made, "Ladies, this Sirius Black hate train is honestly starting to hurt," He pretended to be hurt.

"Aww, poor baby," You said in a baby voice, pinching his cheek as he swooshed your hand away.

"Now, Y/n, why are you ignoring poor Prongs?" Sirius asked as you wanted to throw him out of the train through the window.

"I thought he told you to dance around the question," Remus snorted.

Sirius disregarded, "What did my poor, stupid boy do this time?"

"I'm afraid it's none of your business, Black." You simply said.

"It is my business when my friend is sulking and bringing down my mood," He explained, "So why are you upset with him?" He asked.

Marlene abruptly laughed, "I'm sorry, but he really thought you would be the one Y/n would say something to,"

Sirius fake-laughed, "Oh McKinnon, I'll be laughing like that when you fall off of your arse on the field,"

Marlene mocked his facial expression as he did the same thing to her.

"May I please just arrive in peace without one word of James Potter? I'm begging." You reasoned.

"Well, at least I can tell him I tried and that Moony was no help." He glared at Remus.

"I told you I wasn't going to talk to her for him; it was all up to you," Remus said as Sirius went outside, and Remus waved everyone goodbye before closing the doors.

You could already tell it was going to be a long year.

After finally sorting the first year, everyone was allowed to dine. One thing you always missed about Hogwarts was the fantastic food; it was always incredible.

You were sitting in between Remus and Dorcas when Remus abruptly got up.

"Where are you going?" You asked, mid-laugh from a joke Marlene had made about Dumbledore and McGonagall in their secret chamber.

"Don't kill me," Remus stated before leaving. You looked confused, and James took the spot in front of you. You rolled your eyes, turning back to your meal.

"Please talk to me, Y/n," James pleaded.

You continued to stay silent, not even giving him a look as you looked at Marlene. She shook her head, and you continued to eat.

"I just wanna know what I did," James begged.

When you still didn't respond, he grabbed ahold of your wrist in an attempt for you to look at him.

"Don't fucking touch me." You spat before getting up and leaving the dining hall, telling your friends you were just gonna meet them in the dorm.

You tried rushing to the common room, but James was behind you.

"Y/n!" He yelled, speed-walking after you.

You continued to ignore him, going to the common room until you were stuck with the singing lady at the door who would not give it a rest.

"You have to talk to me," James demanded while the lady continued to screech.

"I don't have to do a thing you say," You scoffed, "In fact, I would prefer if you screwed off and stopped talking to me."

You went to one of the corridors, trying to escape him, but he followed you.

"Can't you just explain to me what I could've done for you to treat me like this?" He said roughly.

You turned to him, "There is not a single, simple explanation of what you could've done; there is a book of things," You snapped, "And treat you like this? Ever since I fucking stepped foot into your life, you have continued to treat me like shit." You stepped closer, "I stuck with you despite Lily, despite what other people said, and despite what you have shown me."

He continued to stay silent, "And now that I finally stick up for myself, I've done you horribly? Bullshit." You spat, "You have continued to show me exactly why I will never ever love you again, and yeah, for a matter of fact, I did love you, but you don't deserve me and never will."

Your words shocked him, not being able to mutter a word.

"Now you have nothing to say?" You manically laughed, "The smooth-talking and fantastic golden boy that shocked the century has nothing to say? What a pathetic-"

He kissed you suddenly precipitously, his tongue entering your mouth, entangling with yours.

For a second, you were drunk on his mouth, engaging with his kiss with as much passion as he gave you. His hand pulls on your hair lightly, making you moan.

His lips went from your mouth to your neck, sucking hard, red marks into your skin, knowing it would bruise.

Then you remembered everything. You remembered James's bitter words, his voice mocking you, and the boys laughing in the locker room.

You pushed his hard chest off you, breathing hard from the whole interaction. He looked at you, breathing as hard as you; realizing what he had done, he tried to touch your hand, but you pushed him again.

Tears brimmed in your eyes, "You're such an asshole," You cried, going to the Gryffindor common room.

You rushed up the stairs, immediately going into your bed. You couldn't believe what had just happened.

A part of you wanted to be grateful, grateful that you pushed him off, and realized that he only wanted to be with you when he felt convenient.

Another part of you wanted to continue kissing him, laughing with him, hugging him. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you had never figured it would be painful.

What if you had loved James for so long that you didn't know anything but to love him?

It was stupid and pathetic.

You were tired of being stupid and pathetic, you just wanted to move on from James Potter and get away from him, and if that wasn't possible, you had to make him regret being friends with you in the first place.

So you did.

You got up fresh and early in the morning when all of your roommates were sleeping, taking a shower immediately.

You looked in the mirror, your mascara smudged and dark red and purple hickies wearing your skin. You placed a shit-load of powder and concealer to cover up the parts you could.

You tried several spells to cover it up as best as possible, changing into your uniform.

You slipped into the most showing tights you could and wore your skirt from the fifth year that you so obviously outgrew, showing almost your ass cheeks.

You would be thankful not to get a write-up from McGonagall.

You unbuttoned two buttons off the top of your shirt, showing a tiny bit of your bra. It wasn't the most rebellious or seductive, but it could work.

The first challenge of that day was Potions; all of your friends were there, including all of the Marauders. But, thanks to Merlin was also Jacob Carrow's class, the Slytherin Captain that James hated with a burning passion.

They both could not be in the same room without spitting a hateful insult at the other. James once had a dream that you and Jacob had gone out, and he refused to talk to you for an entire day until you convinced him you would never do that.

You never considered yourself a liar.

The only problem was that Jacob was a dickhead, but so was James. You were surprised they didn't get along, maybe in another life.

You went inside Potions with your friend group, and you spotted Jacob Carrow in the back with an empty seat next to him as you told your friends you were gonna sit in the back.

You were thankful none of his friends were around him; it would be ten times more unbearable.

You sat next to him with a wide grin painted on your face, trying not to show your pain.

"Sitting next to me, Y/n?" He smirked, "I thought you were Potter's little puppy."

You tried to ignore your annoyance, "Pets tend to lean away from their owner at points; I guess that's my case." You shrugged.

"I am no Potter; I don't like having little girls follow me and do my shit for me." You could tell he was insulting you, but you stood tall.

"Good thing girls don't like to be in your presence." You snickered.

He smiled, "Love a kitty with claws," He leaned into his chair, "What do you want?"

"Do I have to want something?" You asked, popping your chest out to show your tits as he looked down at your face.

"You finally trying to make your boy toy jealous?" He asked.

You dropped the facade, "Are you gonna help me or not?"

"Control the temper, baby; I just wanna know what's in it for me." His body faced you.

"Isn't James being angry enough?" You asked.

"Nah, I can piss off Potter by just existing." He replied.

"What do you want?" You asked, half-annoyed.

"Meadows on a date with me."

You laughed, "Dorcas would never go on a date with you."

"Then no deal." He said with a fake smile.

"Ugh, fine, I'll talk to her if you just make James's life hell for a few minutes." You said.

"Okay, deal." He smiled, "Do you want me to touch you or,"

"Sure, but don't overdo it." You warned.

"I love when you flatter yourself." He said as James walked in, laughing with the Marauders.

Jacob immediately placed a hand on your thigh, slightly higher than preferred, but you continued smiling.

You started fake-laughing at Jacob's joke, which immediately caught James's attention. You looked behind you, and James's head looked like it would explode.

You looked back at Carrow, touching his shoulder and admiring how much muscle he had.

"What else do you want me to do?" He said through his teeth.

"I'll scoot closer to you, and you can put your hand on my waist." You suggested as he nodded.

You faced the front as Jacob touched your waist, tickling you with his fingers as you laughed.

"Mind keeping it down?" James scowled, "Not everyone wants to fucking hear that shit."

"How about you piss off, Potter?" Jacob mocked as he gripped your waist tighter, which pissed off James even more.

Before James could say another word, Slughorn started the class.

Throughout the class, Jacob would squeeze your thigh or tickle you, almost rising to touch your tits. Whenever he did those actions, you would giggle, earning daggers from James.

Once Slughorn instructed everyone to look inside their microscopes at the different ingredients used in Veritaserum, you took the opportunity to sit on Jacob's lap, looking in the microscope as he bounced you with his knee, causing you to laugh.

This really pissed James off, him storming up to you both. He grabbed your arm, practically flying you off of Jacob.

"Mr. Potter!" Slughorn yelled as the class watched the entire thing.

"Don't you dare fucking touch her," James said brusquely.

Jacob scoffed, "What will you do about it, Potter?" He stood, going closer to James.

You rolled your eyes due to the amount of testosterone in this conversation.

James got closer as you grabbed his hand, pushing him back, "Stop it." You said to him as he looked at you.

He grabbed your wrist, dragging you out of the classroom to an abandoned bathroom.

"James, let go of me!" You yelled as he pushed you inside the bathroom.

He was fuming, and you could tell which scared you. You hadn't seen him this angry since he lost a Quidditch match against the very man's lap you were on.

"You dragged me in here, so is there something you have to say?" You looked at him angrily, hands on your hips.

"Us not being friends anymore doesn't allow you to be a slut," He ridiculed.

You slapped him, "Don't you fucking dare call me a slut; I can do whatever the fuck I want,"

He wiped his mouth with a smile, "You think he gives a shit about you? He would fuck you and then dump you." He said as he moved closer, and you backed up.

"You don't know a thing," You replied nervously.

"He wouldn't even clean you up after," He continued, "He would let you rot there like a slut," Another step closer, which you took backward. You didn't understand if he purposely tried to intimidate or lecture you.

He didn't stop.

"He would tell all of his friends after," Another step, "He wouldn't dare spare you a minute after," Another step, "You would mean nothing," You were backed into the wall now, "But it's okay because you can do whatever the fuck you want."

"James." You kept eye contact with him, his eyes beaming into yours.

His mouth lowered to your ear, "But I think you want me to give a shit; you wanna see me mad." His hand snaked to your waist, "I guess you win." His body left yours, storming out of the bathroom.

Did you really win?

A/N: Y/n: 2, James 0??? There is also an alternate chapter to this because I couldn't stop writing two plots LOL.

taglist: @feast0nmeee @queerqueenlynn @diasnohibng @somebodys-enola @kiwichixta @queerpanickingrn @strnqer @virgogaia @ddddawson @lxriearxella @losa12308 @soosheee @lokifriggason1 @kenqki @volturissideslut @lmfaograyc @melllinaa @iluvfetuszarry @lovelywebber @violetbossler @moonys0chocolate @ourloveisforthelovely @stormymind14 @abq654 @cr1stinx @4-everm-0-re @icantwaittoliveandlearn @aceofheartzzz @ashkuuuu @i-dont-know-me-either @slayingqueenchal @hero-ically @mikeikax @extrainsanity @roryctrlshift @helloitsmeeeeeee @@dittos-blog-dylanobrien @drstargirl @17luvr @eviesmith1810 @fluffycookies22 @valencia-rou @watersquirtpewpewboomm @kentucky-criedfricken @lokisbitch13 @evangelinejxy @youroutdoorbf @ok-boke @madison-rebel @sunshineangel-reads @feast0nmeee @rey26

[alwaysshallow]

― blood on my shirt, rose in my hand

SUMMARY: Simon Riley knows you have bad experiences with dating, but he also knows you don't really need no one but him. He's gonna provide you anything. So you can imagine how he could change, when for the first time, you think you've found the one man who's right for you. To your surprise, weird events happen during the time you date Nick. Thankfully, Simon's there to help you. (11,4k)

READ ON AO3

A/N: this is SUCH a long piece, so some of it is here, but the full version is on AO3. i hope you're gonna forgive me for this one </3

"It's not like I'm ugly, right? I thought about it. If I'm ugly, so that's why it doesn't work out." you sip your favorite wine, looking right at your best friend, who has been listening for the past hour your ramblings about dating.

"You're fuckin' stupid, but not ugly, pet."

He's the best friend in the world – you can say this, meaning it with your whole heart. In fact, he's the best friend everyone probably wished to have, at least in your mind. Not only here for you, but loyal, you can tell him basically anything. He wouldn't say a thing, even if someone was nagging, and he was mostly a good adviser; all the qualities you looked for in a best friend, right?

And he was brutally honest, like right now, but you don't mind it. Simon Riley had this thing, and even if sometimes you were almost offended at his bluntness (like this one time, when he told you you're a crying mess and you act… worse than a toddler), you mostly appreciated it. Your other friends couldn't compare to his honesty, this man was not the one to lick your ass.

Or, so you thought.

"Excuse me?" you raise your eyebrow, laughing, while shaking your head. "You should, I don't know, tell me I'm amazing and they don't deserve me. Or so." you joke; it causes him to roll his eyes.

"That's what I told you. Different words, but the same thingy."

"Right."

It sometimes sucks for you that Simon isn't a girl. He has this unbelieveably annoying guy thing, where he just can't be delusional with you, and he can't just mourn over some hot guy. His way of thinking is… on the other level, he totally skips the mourn part, the part that is pathetic; he's just saying things like "move on" and "there's a lot of them anyway". Again, you love it, but you really wish you could cry about guy being so pretty that it hurts, without him rolling his eyes.

Yet, when you're more in mad mood than mourning one, his attiude is just perfect. He's the one to encourage you to scream, he even brought you a few times to rage room when you needed to smash a few things, not to mention the attiude he was setting you in. Powerful, not giving a shit about a "piece of a man that doesn't deserve you".

Simon sighs. "You're worryin' too much. Really that desperate?"

You huff, as you sink more into the plushy couch in your apartment. "I'm not desperate. It's just…" you take a few seconds to think "being love starved."

"Sex starved, you mean."

"Love starved." you send him a look.

"Mhm. You fancy plushies, hugs, and all shite like this?"

"You're so fucking British, it hurts" you laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I want something like this. Someone to hold me, someone that cares about me and I know it. Sex comes in package, of course, but it's just… ugh, I want a man" you groaned.

You feel as pathetic as ever, when Simon doesn't respond – because how exactly should he? He wasn't vocal about things like this, he usually just nod his head, and there it was, another topic. A miracle it was that he was already listening to your date rambling, not cutting it off because he was uncomfortable or something.

Dreams about your love life… more girly conversation.

Mostly – you know guys who loved talking about it, obviously, and you adore it pretty much, especially when you can know their perspective on some things, but… Riley wasn't really one of them. He had "simple hookups" as he said one day, when you asked him about doing double-dates. It wasn't even an option, he just liked to ocassionally fuck and that's all.

So you stopped trying a few months ago for a double-date. Instead, you focused more on finding a man that would meet your expectations at least in the middle, and that was exhausting, to be honest. Tinder dates were just a disaster after disaster – if it wasn't some catfish, a guy that wanted to marry you and have kids after two weeks of writing, it was most definitely a guy with a desire to bang you quickly.

Romance was dead these days, you noticed. That wouldn't keep you away from trying to find someone, though. Patience was a key in things like these.

"Maybe you will set me up with one your friends? It wouldn't suck. You know them." you think out loud.

"Definitely too much wine f'you." Simon takes your glass, and pours all of the liquid to his mouth, swallowing it like it was some kind of juice, not alcohol. "You don't want a guy from military in your life. Trust me."

There's some sternness to his tone, at which you raise your eyebrow. It was just a funny comment from your side, nothing else – you know by the heart that this man doesn't like the idea of connecting his two worlds. "I know, Simon. Just joking, right?"

You place a hand on his. It's a comedic, yet, heartwarming view, when you see the size difference.

"And, you're pretty cool for a military guy."

He huffs. It seems like pretty cool offends him, but he doesn't say it out loud, so it can be only your imagination working. "You met me before I enlisted. 's different."

"How different?"

"You knew me before military."

He doesn't give you another answer that night, nor the continuation of this one – he brushes you off, like you are some kind of bug that is disturbing him, and brings up another topic, about his deployment. He asks if you can watch his apartment when he's gone, take care of it; it's stupid, Simon knows that you will always agree, but it's the need of asking you anyway.

And, he likes coming home, where he can smell your perfume, where he can see that you made some changes. You tend to do that a lot, mostly buying stuff to his apartment. "It looks worse than room in the hospital" you always say, when he cocks his eyebrow with amusement. He doesn't say that, but he finds it really adorable that you care so much, to make his space… cozier, even if he's not really attached to it. Mostly, it's for your comfort when you come to visit him, and that happens a lot; not like he minds it. Anyone else would be banned from his apartment, but you? Oh God, you wouldn't be, not in the milion years.

You could probably be the worst ever to him; call him names, punch, anything, and he would still be your Simon. It's what he was used to, to being by your side, no matter what time, no matter if you were in the good mood or not; your presence was everything to him.

Not like he'd ever confess that, but it is what you know, silently.

Yet, you are so good to him. Always sending him letters or texting him when he is on deployment. A couple of times, you sent him little things too, if he forgot something, photos included too, but new ones; mostly you captured views, but you were here once or twice. His happiness may not be that visible to outsiders, but his heart is full every time.

"My girl", he'd tell boys when they saw a polaroid of you, swiftly tucking it into his vest because no one was allowed to see it more than three seconds.

Often, Gaz joked if you are actually his girl even if you're not dating, but it sounded so bizzare to Ghost. How would you not be his? Thirteen years of friendship counted as something beyond being only his best friend, no? At least in his mind it was like this. He was used to you dating briefly other guys, but it lasted maybe a few months top. Nothing serious, probably his hookups were more meaningful than your relationships.

So you can easily imagine his confusion, when your mutual friends tell him big news about your new object of interest; someone that he doesn't even know yet, but he's not really his fan on the beggining.

It was just a month of being away.

His eyes are on you now; you are embarrassed, looking anywhere but at him. You don't even speak, you just wave your hand in dismissive manner, trying to change the topic because you don't really want to talk about it. Not in the presence of your best friend, at least.

It works for everyone but Simon, and you know it by the way he looks at you, processing what he just heard. Changing a topic, sudden talkativeness from your side is like buying time in that, time precious to think what to say to your best friend later on.

Because you know for the fact that he'll ask. He always does, and now he has a reason.

You have your reasons why you haven't told him. "It's nothing serious. That's why I didn't tell you." your voice is a little more silent than usual, but he can hear it anyway. You two are taking a walk to your apartment with no one around; and it's awkward one.

Simon seems like he doesn't want to say anything about your poor choice of men. It worries you; he always wanted somehow to make fun of you or make comment. Now, it's just a nod, like he gets it, but you know it's not it. He doesn't get it.

But you don't know what it is.

"C'mon!" you nudge him, and when it doesn't seem to affect him, you stand right in front of him. A little wobbly because of alcohol, your vision isn't so great too, but it makes him stop in his tracks. "Say something."

"Somethin'" he grumbles, and you can't help but roll your eyes. "What? Told me-"

"-I know what I told you!" you cup his face in your hands. Your head is a bit hazy, but the intensions are clear; making him talk and soft. It always works, so you have a lot of hope. "He's a good guy, but I want to meet him a bit closer to be… certain about him, you know? You've heard me whining about boys a bit too much."

"You can tell me everything." he muses, and you can't help but smile at that. Of course – of course you can tell him everything. You never doubted it for a second, and you think of yourself as stupid, doubting that he wouldn't want to hear about it. "Ill be the judge of that, though. Good guy thing."

"I can't be trusted?" you tease, and when he lets out a low chuckle, you grin even more. It's like a reward after him being his grumpy self.

"No." he shakes his head. "You don't know what is good for you. But that's why I'm here."

Under the influence of alcohol, you didn't pay too much of attention to his words; probably you wouldn't pay attention to it even if he'd say this when you are sober. Simon as your protector – it's so natural, you don't even need to think about it as something weird. It's just the way things are for thirteen years, everyone knows this.

Your friends, who were a bit reluctant on the beggining, but two parties later, when he joined the competition of drinking on time and wasn't drunk at all, he won over their hearts.

It was tougher with your parents, when you were in highschool. A little distanced at first, they constantly asked where were his parents (which, you told them, was rude asking, especially to his face), telling you how much of a bad news he could be for you. Suggestion of him ruining your future was the worst, you never thought of him this way; that discussion caused you to give them the silent treatment for a few days.

Apparently after that, suggesting that Simon is around you too much, clinging to your side and giving you "weird glances", they stopped the narrative, admitting that the boy might be damaged, but not broken. You still felt like they're judging their every move, but seeing that he had pretty good life plan, seeing that he thought about military and went here actually? Hell, they completely stopped being suspicious in any means.

Riley just had this thing of charming people, even if they didn't like him in the beggining. He had everything under his finger, trying to keep things under control – it was like that… pretty much since the beggining of his life. You met him when he was an adult, but he always liked to keep things under control; people, things that he cared about. What belonged to him was sacred, untouchable for anyone else.

The possessiveness started in his early childhood with toys, when he absolutely despised everyone who just wanted to touch his things, to lay their dirty, filthy fingers here. In early classes, it was considered just rude.

When he was older though, he started fighting for various things. Knowing he has the advantage, he used his legs, fists, when he had to, and no one was looking, besides the actual victim. He wasn't stupid; he knew how troublesome the public can be, he also knew the power of manipulation a bit too well to get caught so easily. Wasn't the plan, getting caught; it once happened, but because he wanted to; he even broke his own nose, making it like the other guy did it, just to get what he needed. The reputation of kid who was broken in the childhood, so he's just not opening on others was… suitable, for him. No one could suspect anything, especially when the kid just happened to be "attacked" by one of the popular ones, right?

The idea of power was something that Simon truly desired from the beggining; maybe it has something to do with the lack of his parents in his life, being transferred from one foster family to another. Maybe it's just him being a little fucked up – who knows.

What mattered, was the fact he had you. You, so sweet, so considerate to be by his side, to be protected by him, to be the person who "opened" because of her. Little did you know, he opened just because he wanted to be closer to you, not those fuckers you hang out with.

If you knew his past, you would have another reasons in mind, why he showed up to meet your potential new boyfriend. Jealousy, posessiveness, power complex, him being a control freak who can't give you to anyone he personally doesn't trust – if ever, considering you were his precious best friend. He isn't willing to share.

You aren't really aware of him being this crazy. You think of his flaws, and you see someone that has been damaged, someone that you can and will help, if he just asks for it – or if you'll see he needs it. So, naturally, you help, and grin the widest you can, when you see him in the door. He shows completely unexpected. It doesn't take you long to wrap your hands around his neck, tight, as you hug him.

Happy as always because you can see your friend, happy as ever because moments like these means a lot to you. When he's deployed, you can't even see him, so you're taking all in when he's right in front of you.

"Hope 'm not interruptin'." he murmurs into your hair, as his head is practically buried in them; he has to bend down a little to be at your level, but it's something he enjoys. The power.

"Never." you say immediately, not even hesitating in your statement. "Actually, you found a pretty good moment."

"That I did, eh?" his eyebrow arches, as he straightens up.

"As always. Nick's here, you have to meet him."

|READ THE REST ON AO3|

[rinslutz]

Can i order uuuhhh a dose of second chance romance with satoru? You broke up with him because his ass cheated but now that you guys are starting over, you can't help but still doubt his efforts. (having massive trust issues) but he of course promised to do whatever it takes to gain your trust again. Lots of reassurance pls. We love a devoted Satoru ☹️🤞

ᥫ᭡ “AFRAID” — GOJO SATORU

ㅤꞋꞌꞋꞌ fem!reader, hurt/comfort, exes to lovers, mentions of cheating, gojo pleads on his knees, gojo is pathetic, reassuances

a/n: anon…you awoken something in me. this is much longer than i wanted it to be and its a bit more than you asked for, sorry.

2 weeks 4 days 15 hours 56 minutes 12 seconds. that’s how long it’s been since satoru last saw you. he wishes he hasn’t been keeping track of the time but it’s the only thing keeping him from succumbing to his sadness. he hates himself for being sad. he doesn’t deserve to feel sad. all of this is his fault.

satoru has been wallowing in his self pity for the past 2 weeks. if he didn’t have a class to teach, he’s sure he would never move from his bed. school and home. those are the only two places you’ll find satoru. so when suguru notices that he hasn’t seen his loser best friend in 2 weeks he “kidnaps” him as satoru claims.

“have you even tried talking to her?” suguru asks nonchalantly. satoru’s nose crinkles in annoyance. why would he ask such a stupid question?

“she doesn’t want to speak to me.” satoru says dryly. this conversation is already starting to frustrate him. he runs his hands down his face.

“did you try though?” satoru is convinced that suguru’s only goal right now is to annoy him. if he wanted to talk about his failing relationship with him, he would’ve called him weeks ago.

satoru sighs obnoxiously, “of course i haven’t. she probably doesn’t want me within 10 feet of her. she hates me.” saying that aloud for the first time makes his eyes burn with tears. he rubs them furiously, not wanting to cry in front of suguru.

“so,” suguru pauses to chew the chips he’s been snacking on the whole time. “you mean to tell me you cheated on your girl, she kicked your ass out, and you’re not begging on your knees for forgiveness right now?” suguru’s statement and the crinkling of his bag of chips send satoru’s annoyance into overdrive. he snatches the bag from suguru’s hands, balls it up, and throws it into a nearby trash can.

“hey, don’t get pissy with me because i’m right.” suguru holds his hands up in defense.

satoru doesn’t reply. he is right though. satoru has convinced himself that he should try to speak to you because you wouldn’t want to hear it anyway. in reality, he’s afraid. afraid to face you. afraid to get confirmation that he has lost you forever. but if there’s even a slight chance that begging on his knees would work, he would do it immediately.

you hate him. you hate how even after what he did every part of him, every memory you made with him, every time he told you he loves you, still occupies your brain. the stupid smile still pops into your brain when you’re having a particularly bad day. you wish with some much in you that picturing his smile didn’t immediately make you feel better. it was that smile though. the smile that’s only reserved for you.

you wish you hated him for cheating on him. you’re just hurt. your chest hurts every day. every morning you wake up with sore red eyes from crying yourself to sleep. you hope he’s been crying himself to sleep too, though you doubt it. as desperate as satoru usually acts you expected him to try and contact you. at least once. you got nothing and somehow that hurt more than his infidelity.

the quiet night you’re having is interrupted by the loud and persistent knock at your door. you have no idea who it could be at this hour, so you don’t move immediately. maybe it’s a neighbor wanting to borrow something. if you don’t move maybe they’ll think you’re not here.

“baby?”

your head snaps to the door in surprise. almost immediately, tears spring to your eyes. it hurts hearing his voice for the first time in 2 weeks. you don’t move. you want to open the door but you know you shouldn’t.

“please…can we talk?” it's rare to hear him speak this softly. satoru’s loud knocks begin to soften. you reluctantly get up from your spot on the couch to open the door. you open the door but not all the way, only enough to see his face.

he stands there with red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. he stands there awkwardly. not sure what to do with his arms, they lay flat at his sides.

“can i come in?”

“leave.” you choke out. you refuse to cry in front of him.

“i can’t.” he steps closer to you. “i need to talk to you. i…i need you.”

you wish you didn’t say that. you wish he didn’t sound so broken when he said it. and because you’re weak for him you let him in. even though you let him in you don’t let him more than 3 feet inside.

you two just stare at each other for moments. his eyes rake over you, taking in every part of you. it felt like an eternity since he’s seen you, he had begun to convince himself that he forgot what you looked like. a stupid thought since he often stared at the small picture of you he kept in his wallet.

“i’m sorry.”

you laugh at that and satoru feels like everything is already falling apart. he’s already messed up. your bitter laugh makes the tip of his ears redden and burn in embarrassment.

“you’re sorry? that’s what you came here to say?”

he wants to tell you that it’s not true, but he didn’t come here to say sorry. he is sorry whether you believe him or not.

“you fucked someone else but you’re sorry so it’s okay right?” your voice is harsh and bitter. and if it weren’t for the tears streaming down your face he would assume you’re just angry. you’re hurt instead and he’s the reason why.

“no that’s not what i’m trying to say.” he shakes his head softly, “it’s not okay. i did the one thing you told me you could never forgive me for.”

if you didn’t love him you would laugh again. if you didn’t love him you would kick him out right now. but if you didn’t love him you would feel empty right and somehow that’s much worse.

“i am sorry. i wish i could explain why i did it-”

“cheated. you cheated. instead of saying “it” say the word gojo.”

he swallows that lump forming in his throat. the way you said his name burned his ears. the bitter tone and the fact that it was his last name.

“i cheated and i regret it so fucking much.”

unconsciously he reaches to grab your hand. when you don’t pull away, he grips your hand tighter. if this is the last time he ever gets to touch you, any part of you, he wants to remember the way your soft skin feels against his. he wants to memorize the way your hand fits perfectly in his and the way your hand warms his cold fingertips.

“i love you so much and i need you. i know you don’t need me but i don’t know what i’m doing. i-i can’t think straight, i can barely breathe when i’m not near you.” he has to swallow again to keep from crying.

“i hate you.”

“i know. i hate me too.”

when you don’t say anything satoru thinks he’s making progress. your eyes don’t hold the anger that they once did. then you pull your hand from his and satoru swears the earth shakes. he pulls his hand back to his side. he clenches his fists, his fingernails pierce his skin. he hopes the pain will distract him from the pain of his heart being ripped out of his chest.

“please,” he says weakly.

you don’t want to give in. he’s done nothing to deserve your forgiveness. you hate yourself for wanting to pull him against you to wipe away his tears. you hate yourself for wanting to forgive. you hate him for sounding so sincere.

“how can i ever trust you again?” satoru doesn’t know how to answer that. you shouldn’t trust him again. satoru is confident that he’d never betray your trust again because the pain of being apart from you like this again very well might kill him. and he’d rather died than hurt you again.

he knows that there’s so way for you to be certain that he won’t hurt you again. you can’t see into his brain or his heart. you can’t see the way his soul yearns to intertwine with yours again, forever.

before he can answer suguru’s stupid voice fills his head. “you mean to tell me. you cheated on your girl, she kicked your ass out, and you’re not begging on your knees for forgiveness right now?” he knows he deserves to beg on his knees. you deserve to have him pathetically beg for your forgiveness.

so, without another word, he bends down on his knees. he grabs both of your hands in his and looks up at you. his heart beats heavily in his chest.

“i will never hurt you again. i promise. i will do anything you want me to in order to prove it to you.” his knees were already beginning to hurt. this pain is nothing compared to the pain he’ll feel if you never forgive him.

“you don’t have to forgive me. you shouldn’t. i’m just asking for a chance to prove myself to you.” he grips your hands tighter, afraid you’ll pull away again.

you’re sure you're making the dumbest decision of your life. you’re weak for him and you may always be. when you left him the night you found out he cheated, you left with your heart still in his hands. tonight, you’ll let him keep it for a little while longer.

“one chance. you fuck up even a little-” before you’re able to finish your sentence, your lips are pressed against him. one of his presses against the back of your head, keeping you pressed against him. the familiar warmth of his lips against yours makes you melt against him. you slowly and reluctantly wrap your arms around his waist.

a small sob slips from his lips, making you jump slightly. tears fall from his eyes again, wetting both of your cheeks. his arms grip you tighter, almost as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

“thank you,” he whispers against your lips

he’s late. for anyone in a normal relationship, this wouldn’t be that bothersome. unfortunately for you, you don’t completely trust your boyfriend. not a hundred percent.

it’s eleven pm and he was meant to be home an hour ago. you tried reasoning with yourself. maybe he is stuck fighting a curse? maybe the higher-ups forced him into doing something? you tried thinking of anything besides the one thing that’s nagging at your brain.

he promised and you believed him. you’re starting to think you’re an idiot for trusting him, trusting that he’d stay loyal. how could you have been so dumb?

you’re staying at his apartment tonight, per his request. he promised that he’d be home in time to catch the new episode of your shared favorite show. he broke that promise so what other promises will he break tonight?

you hear the sound of a key entering the door and seconds later it opens. satoru walks in quietly. there’s a certain look on his face that you cant read. you assume the worst. before you can think critically you shoot up from your spot on the couch and storm over to him.

“how was it?” your voice is bitter and you hate the way it cracks at the end. you hate the way your eyes are already beginning to burn.

satoru look at you, confused. he’s not sure what you mean or why you’re angry. he’s tired and he’s not sure he can deal with this right now. the events of today and the fact that he needed to stay at work later than usual is taking a toll on his body.

“baby, what are you talking about?” he reaches for you and you back away from him. for a second he feels the memories of that day flood his mind. the familiar way you back away from him, the familiar look in your eyes. you can’t possibly think that right now.

“no. hey, don’t let your mind go to that.” he successfully grabs your hand in his and pulls it to his lips. immediately you feel the harsh beating in your chest slow down.

“did you cheat on me?” you ask. you just want an answer now. you need to know if you’ll be leaving tonight or falling asleep in his arms as usual.

“no. i promised you. do you want me to get on my knees for you again?” the look in his eyes is unwavering. when you don’t answer he falls to his knees in front of you.

“a curse attacked a town and killed hundreds of people. it was pretty powerful and it took me longer than usual. that’s where i was. i promise.” he stares into your eyes. there is no hint of a lie to be found.

“i know it’s going to take you a while to trust me again. i will get on my knees every day and promise not to hurt if that’s what it will take.”

you feel like a fool even though you shouldn’t. he understands that you don’t trust him completely and he’s working toward that. you’re embarrassed even though he’s the one on his knees right now. you nudge his hand and motion for him to get up.

“i’m sorry-”

“no. you have nothing to be sorry for.” once he stands he grabs your face in both of his hands. one of his thumbs brushes against you bottom lip. his eyes are soft as he looks at you.

“i promise.” he doesn’t need to say what he promises. you know what he means. he pulls your face towards his and places a sloppy kiss against your lips.

“i love you.” you don’t reply but he knows you love him too.

©rinslutz

[bitchimasnake-sss]

it got worse ft. choso kamo!

this is part two to my fic "just a distraction". so, i recommend that you read that first lol (but it can be read as a standalone too!)

set-up: after your plan to distract your academic rival backfired so hard, you don't have it in you to seek him out. well, is it a blessing or a curse when he decides he will seek you out instead then?

warnings: PORN WITH PLOT; nsfw thoughts includes cunnilingus, in public, dirty talking. mdni as always :)

"are you serious?" yuuta gave you a skeptical look.

"what?" you defended by hiding your face under a pillow and avoiding your friends' concerned looks.

"i'm sorry but it's the third day you're missing lecture. over a boy. who even are you?" maki continued where yuuta left off.

"she's lovesick, is what she is. or dicksic—" nobara quipped up next.

you threw the pillow at the source of her voice. then, slowly, you looked up at your three friends, who stood there as if observing an animal in the zoo. except this wasn't a zoo, it was your dorm room. and the animal under surveillance was you.

"this was all your plan!" you pointed at nobara accusingly.

"my plan was to go fuck choso's brain out so that you can get an edge over him in academics. my plan wasn't for you to develop a crush on his weird ass."

"i don't have a crush on him!" you tried to cool off your burning face by fanning it, "i just can't see him again. what am i gonna say?? hey choso remember the day i came over during break like a month ago and you went down on me? i can't fucking stop thinking about that or about you! what are your thoughts on that, choso hm?"

"well, when you phrase it so pathetically-"

yuuta cut off the green-haired athlete lest she say something downright stupid, "see, i am sure choso won't bring it up either. he hasn't made an effort to like text you or anything. it's been a whole month, i am sure he doesn't really care all that much?"

"ughh. how is that consoling to hear? that means whatever happened between us probably sucked."

"well you did suck—"

"—nobara!"

"point being." yuuta reasoned, "you need to go to class. gojo sensei is a serious drama queen. he'd probably mark your grade down because you're missing classes for seemingly no reason. and that'll affect your grades.

you groaned and yuuta continued, "just go to class. and if you see choso, avoid him. i am sure he won't come seeking you out."

"fine."

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

well, this was going okay, you guess? i mean, gojo sensei did 100% make weird jokes about your absence in front of the entire class but thus far, nothing else was amiss. choso was holed up in his regular seat near the window far to your left and hadn't been looking at you from what you could notice.

fuck. truly the only one getting distracted was you.

so, halfway through the lecture (that you couldn't pay attention to anyways), you decided you would confront choso and ask him why he didn't text you back or something.

so, you waited till class was over. standing outside the gate, you waited for the raven-haired man to come out so that you could confront him. but the moment he actually started coming towards the door, your feet took you by their own accord. you ran through the hallways and into the library.

that's right, maybe you should catch up on the studying you missed? self-study truly is the best study after all? and not like choso will come hunting you down here, in the library. so, you chose to go take a seat in your usual spot, the one farthest and where nobody came to disturb you.

sighing, you took our your laptop and notebook, setting it down on the table. you took a deep breath and decided you could deal with him when you were ready-

"why did you bolt off when you saw me?" choso asked as he dragged the chair next to you and sat down. he dropped something heavy on the desk and you noticed from the corner of your eye that it was the book you had taken over to his under the pretense of studying.

"thanks for the book. i forgot i left it at yours."

liar.

you had left it at his so you could go back and get it. and the day you went back, hopefully, choso would have remembered some of the steam and gotten you into his bed again.

but you never went and he never called.

"no worries. i was surprised how you would be able to do integrals without it." he stretched his limbs, muscles shifting under the thin material of his shirt. he then propped his right elbow on the wooden table. resting his face on his palm, he looked at you, "why were you missing lectures?"

"personal issues." you replied without looking away from your laptop screen. as if typing your assignment furiously will make him disappear into thin air.

"ah, okay. i thought you got sick or something."

if you were braver, you would have said it out loud. but you were a coward, so, you mumbled, "if you were so worried, you could have texted me or something."

you obviously didn't expect for him to hear that.

"we're not friends. it would have been awkward. what would have people thought if they realized i'm texting the second best student at uni?"

you whipped your face to look at his. but all your anger melted away when you took in his features. his tired eyes, the tattoo on his nose. did he cut his hair? it was slightly shorter, you think? whatever, he was still a dick.

-and dick reminds you...

"i-" you looked at your screen again, hands stilling against the keyboard and resting on the plastic keycaps, "even if we aren't friends. why didn't you text me? was- idk. like, was our last time so bad? even if it was, it's not a gentle-manly thing to do! to ghost a fucking girl out of nowhere!"

"i thought it was a one time thing." he replied back easily, still looking at your bunched features, "i thought you had some built up frustration after seeing the result and you had come take your mind off of it."

"so, what are you saying? was it just 'nother quick fuck session with your classmate? you shoved your pen in his direction, a direct attack by invading his private space. your face scrunched up in disgust, "you do this frequently? am i just the newest addition to the roster?"

as your gaze tangled with his, the sheer intensity in his eyes sent a shiver through your system. he quirked an eyebrow up, his lips pressed into a thin line. the pen slipped past your light grasp and under the desk.

"do you know you're ruining my life?" his eyes searched for yours then travelled down to your lips, "you're actually ruining my fucking life."

and he knelt down.

"choso wh-" your eyes widened as his arm reached under the desk, looking for your pens as his gaze remained trained on you.

adjusting his position, he moved till he was under the desk, hidden by the chair and your legs in front of him. once he found the pen, his sleek fingers pulled his hair back. he carefully tied his flowing hair with your pen.

looking up at you, his igniting touches dragged upwards from your knee to the hem of your skirt.

"wh- what are you doing?" you bit down your lip are his fingers travelled inwards, caressing your inner thigh agonizingly slow.

his forearms pulled your body towards him till you were barely seated on the edge. looking around maniacally to spot any other person, you looked back down at the sight in front of you.

his hair was pulled back, arms around your thighs and tongue licking a clean strip from your mid-thigh. slowly moving upwards, his hot breath danced over your drenched panties.

pressing a chaste kiss to your thighs. giving you a small (almost innocent) smile, he whispered, "i think i should return the favour. be a gentleman, hm?"

his thumb swiped over the wet fabric. the slick allowed him to rub over the swollen nub while his other hand found his erect dick. he bit back a groan as he palmed himself through the sweats.

"choso, stop mhmm no-" you whined as he pushed the fabric aside and swiped over your clit. the pad of his thumb moved methodically- going up and down, to the sides and in tight circular motion- while his lips pressed innocent kisses all over your thighs.

"cho~ nghh someone is gonna see us, plea-please stop—"

"shut up then. go back to your assignment. let's pretend i'm not even here, yeah?"

"chosoo—" you whined slowly, looking around again to see no one was around. once you were thorough with your inspection, you found yourself meeting his sinful gaze, rutting your hips in sync with his calloused fingers.

"—look up or people are gonna get suspicious." he stilled for a second, letting his words register in your head. when he refused to move his deft fingers against your pulsing heat, you finally took your eyes off him. training your eyes at the screen instead, you ignored his rough treatment on your clit.

kissing your soft skin, his fingers played with your drenched core. you closed your eyes, feeling his heavy weight against you body. he sucked on your skin and then looked up at you to give you a lewd look. something between a smug smile and a feral, animalistic desire.

"that's right, just do your work okay? i'm gonna handle the rest." he whispered against the blossoming bruise, "trust me when i say that it's taking everything inside me to not fuck you right here, right now."

his lips ghosted over your clitoris as his fingers dipped inside of you. the hot breath set your body on fire as his slim digits played against your inner mechanics. finally, he placed a soft kiss o your twitching, swollen nub and you chose to bite down on your lips instead on moaning his name out.

your hips burned against the wood. your forehead was getting damper and damper with each leisurely lick. and every attempt of writing a word of your assignment was just another incoherent jamble, fueled by his fucked up fantasies.

your pelvis rolled with his finger and the ache built up in your stomach as he went faster and faster against you, still whispering sweet nothings as if honey was his own language.

the ache built and built and built and you closed your eyes as your orgasm finally washed over you like waves. you tucked your head under your arms, resting your forehead against the cool, wooden desk as you silently screamed out.

his fingers slowed down their assault on your twitching body and he pressed one last kiss to your quivering thighs before removing his fingers. fixing your underwear and cleaning off the nectar on his fingers, he climbed up again.

you cocked your head sideways to look at him. he flashed you a grin before taking the pen out and handing it back to you, "here you go. you should be careful with your belongings"

you rolled your eyes, "fuck off."

and he gave you another large smile, relishing in your huffs and jitters.

pulling yourself back up, you truly thought he'd walk away now that you had cum over his fingers. i mean what else was left? he had come and ruined your concentration. he had won at your game. so what else now? why wasn't he leaving?

"uhm" you gave him a skeptical look, "aren't you gonna go now?"

he raised an eyebrow, dragging the chair closer next to you, "want me gone so soon?"

you turned around to face him. you could feel the steam physically rise out of your face out of sheer embarrassment. "i mean i thought we were just... like? you know—"

"—fuck buddies or something?"

"i mean yeah?"

"i don't think we can be fuck buddies. or friends with benefits." when your face fell, he gave you an honest smile, "'cause we aren't exactly friends... and we haven't exactly fucked."

a blush crept up your throat at his ease over such depraved words, "right, yeah."

"but." he dragged his chair outwards and stood up, "we can be. friends, i mean." he looked away from you, pausing. "i mean, i'll text you maybe?"

"maybe?"

"maybe." he tucked in the chair inwards to it's actual position. then his fingers drummed along the wooden chair, "i am still not sure if i wanna be friends with my rival, you know?"

"oh, fuck off."

he started walking away, giving you a last smile over his shoulder, "i'll text you."

you bit back a smile of your own, "i'll wait."

a/n: tempted to make a third part (and finish off the story with a sweet, nice bow) but idk if i should lol. part three is up! hope you enjoy!! tagging: @somejojofanlol @little-art-addiction @seaweed-empire @basilgardener @rkiveinmarvel

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 4

A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.

Word count: 4.9k

Genre: Smut, angst

Warnings: fem!reader, public sex, blowjobs, dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, mentions of morbid games lmao

You haven’t had a chance to talk to Beomgyu about what happened at the party, mostly because you don’t know what to say. You don’t want to ask him about Haeun because you don’t want to hear that they’re together now. And you don’t want to talk to him about Yeonjun and admit to him that you are not actually together when he clearly has someone else. 

As for Yeonjun, you start becoming closer and closer to him–you’re not actually dating but Beomgyu doesn’t need to know that, and the fact that he thinks you are and it’s pissing him off beyond belief is just the cherry on top. 

But due to all this messiness, things become awkward between you and Beomgyu. There is this unspoken tension that neither of you will acknowledge. Even just him coming home and stepping into the living room where you’re at feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. 

Live with your best friend, they said. It will be fun, they said.

You focus intensely on your phone, determined to ignore Beomgyu until he retreats into his room like the virginal creature he is. But to your dismay, he heads straight to you. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Beomgyu asks, rushing to your side and you look at his concerned face with confusion. “What is it, did Yeonjun hurt you?” 

“Huh?” You hum, completely lost. 

“Your face. You look like someone ran over it.” 

You glare at him, showing him your phone pointedly. “I’m just stuck at this game.” 

He rolls his eyes, shoulders relaxing. “Damn, I thought it was serious.”

No shit. It looked like he was ready to scratch Yeonjun’s face off at the mere idea that he hurt you. Which is kinda sweet, you guess. 

“It is serious. This game is kicking my ass.” You complain, brushing past it once again, choosing to focus on the escape room game you’re playing. “I feel like such an idiot. Why can’t I figure this stupid puzzle out?” 

“Let me see.” He sits beside you, plucking the phone out of your hands. 

“Hey!” You protest loudly but he shushes you. “Let the genius do his thing.” 

You bark out a laugh at that. “Now that’s hilarious.” You mock him, but let him try anyway. If only because he looks the prettiest when he’s concentrating on something. 

What? It’s not like you’re going to get over your undying love for him in a day. 

Beomgyu flounders around just as you had expected, clicking all over the screen to try to unlock some hidden clue to no avail. Soon enough, his frustration reaches your level/ 

“What the fuck do you want me to give you, you stupid man?” Beomgyu yells in frustration, repeatedly tapping on the man who won’t give him the phone number he needs. 

“Is the genius struggling?” You mock and though he doesn’t mean it, he gives you the most heart-breakingly adorable pout you’ve ever seen. It takes the combined strength of every single cell in your body to not swoon on the spot. 

“Shut up. It’s a stupid game.” He mumbles and you raise an eyebrow at him. “Or maybe dialing random numbers on the phone isn’t the best strategy when there are like an infinite number combinations possible?”

“Like I said, stupid game.” He asserts, “It’s impossible to solve.” 

“No, you’re just an idiot. Give me back my phone.” You try to take it from him but he refuses to hand it over, insisting, “I’m going to solve it.”

“Beomgyu, come on!”

“I’ll figure it out!”

“No, you won’t, dumbass!”

“Okay, now you’re really not getting it back.” He says and you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. He sighs and tugs on your arm, pulling you onto his lap, “Come here, let’s work it out together.” 

How can you when his breath hitting the back of your neck lights your nerves on fire and the warmth of his body pressed up against yours fries up your brain? 

Still you valiantly push through, coming up with ideas together to solve the puzzle, equally stupid ideas that don’t work, but you don't even care about the game anymore, just enjoying being in his arms, leaning back against his shoulders, surrounded by his warmth and his scent. 

“Okay, that’s it. I’m cheating.” He announces after a long, frustrating stretch of inadequate gameplay, and you grunt. “Yes, please.”

You watch as he looks up the answer to the puzzle you’re stuck on online, practically melting in his embrace. 

“That’s the answer? What the fuck? It doesn’t even make sense.” He grumbles once he finds the answer, the vibrations of his deep voice like a cat purring against you. 

“I know. This is so annoying.” You mutter, no heat behind your words, as he enters the code given from the walkthrough. “Or maybe we’re both idiots.” 

“Nah, nah, it’s the game that’s stupid. We’re so smart.” He denies dramatically and you giggle.  “The smartest.” 

Once he dials the number given to him by the man, a distorted voice answers, giving you a cryptic message before hanging up. 

"Look into the eyes of the bird. What does that mean?" Beomgyu wonders, and a sudden realization hits you. "Oh, oh, there was an owl statue back there!"

"You're right. Good thinking, babe.” He compliments mindlessly, oblivious to the fact that he so casually sent your heart into overdrive. Yes, he has called you that before, but never in a non-sexual context. This whole thing feels so domestic, so relationship-y, and it’s seriously messing with your tattered heart. 

Beomgyu goes back to the owl and taps on its eyes. They turn white and the statue shakes, causing your anticipation to rise… but then nothing happens. 

"Wait, what?" Beomgyu wonders dumbly, and you frown. "Let's look around again. Maybe that did something."

"Okay." His head moves ever so slightly to the side and he takes a deep breath through his nose, frustrated, but if you didn’t know any better, and if your wishful thinking had its way, you would think he was taking your scent in. 

"Oh, there it is. It opened this thing." He says excitedly, jolting you out of your fantasies. "That’s the code!"

"Come on then, open the suitcase!" You gush, joining the excitement. You just love to see him so giddy.  

"Right." 

You watch his eyebrows furrow as he looks around for the suitcase, and you do your best not to bend forward and kiss his pretty nose. 

Damn it. Get yourself together. 

"It's a camera. Let's try to take pics with it." You tell him once he opens the suitcase. 

"I have a bad feeling about this." Beomgyu says, trying to take a picture of the mother character but it doesn’t work.

"Try the child." You grab onto his arms, feeling nervous yourself. 

You click on the child but instead of taking a picture of her, she takes a picture of you. Then the scene turns dark and she starts screaming.  

"What? What is happening? Pull back." You tell him urgently. 

He moves around frantically, stopping at the scene with the mother and now there is a monster behind her. The monster speaks in the same distorted voice, saying it’s taking the mother and leaving the child to you. 

“What the fuck?” Beomgyu asks, creepy music playing in the background. “Bring her back!”

“Oh, don’t feel bad for the mother. She fed her brother urine and dug up the corpses of her family members for a sacrifice.” 

“She did what?” He gives you a look of disgust.

“But even that’s not surprising. I mean she’s the product of the semen her father ejaculated into a jar and combined with the egg he extracted from her dead mother who he killed because he was obsessed with her.” 

“Why do you play these games?” Beomgyu groans, horrified. 

You shrug. “I am fascinated by the morbid. And if I recall correctly, I didn’t ask you to play.”

“I know. I just missed hanging out with you. Even if it’s playing creepy games or just you ranting about your day.” He says sheepishly, turning his head to face you, and you suddenly realize fully how close you actually are. You gulp. “Yeah. I missed hanging out with you too. I guess we’ve both been… busy.” 

“Yeah with the gigs and the parties and all, I guess I’m not around much.” He trails off, running his fingers up and down your forearm, making you shiver. Then looks up at you with a grin. “Hey, remember back when we were so lame no one ever invited us to parties so we would just spend our weekends at home watching movies and playing video games?”

“Remember? That was only like a couple of months ago. You may have forgotten your roots Mr. I’m-in-an-up-and-coming-band but it will always be the loser lifestyle for me.” 

You're joking but you do miss it. You miss when he was your Beomgyu and not Haeun's. Even if it was just in your head. You miss your best friend and not the asshole he became. 

“Yeah, right. You’re such a loser, you’re dating the lead singer of that band.” He mutters challengingly, staring you down. You’re so close, you only have to lean in a tiny bit to meet his lips, and by the way he’s looking at you, you think he wants it too. 

But then his phone rings and the moment is over. You snap back to your senses and quickly get off him, glancing at his phone. It’s Haeun. Of course. You feel so stupid. You’re not his girlfriend. You’re just his dumb friend who thinks she has a chance with him when he never expressed any interest in her and has in fact been in love with another woman–a woman who is now his girlfriend. 

“Baby–”

“Your girlfriend is calling. Answer her.” You tell him harshly, and he flinches, taken aback. He is silent for a second, searching your face for something, before he sighs. “Fine.” 

“Hey, baby.” He answers, looking at you as he uses the exact same nickname he just called you. You roll your eyes, starting the next phase in the game, trying not to let it show how hurt you are as you pointedly ignore him. “I’m good. Heading for bed.”

He pauses for a second during which you pretend you’re actually playing the game as he listens to what she’s telling him, before he says. “Baby, I can’t come over now. I’m tired… yeah, i’m just not feeling that well–No, no, don’t come over. I’m okay. It’s–” 

He shuts up abruptly and you look up to him to see him staring at his phone in frustration. 

“She’s coming over?” You raise an eyebrow and he sighs. “Wants to make sure I’m not sick.” 

“You’re so lucky.” You gush sarcastically. 

“Don’t start.” He warns.

“No. No. I’m really happy for you. Your love with Haeun is so special. So special in fact that you probably only share it with like five other men.” 

He laughs at that. “Oh yeah, it’s not like you’re dating boyfriend of the year either.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You frown, hands on your hips. 

“It means that you’re not the first groupie he’s had. You’re probably not even the only one. Hey, maybe if you stick around long enough, he’ll even introduce you to the others.”

“Fuck you, Beomgyu.” You hiss, grabbing your things and heading to your room.

You know you shouldn’t have goaded him. Things were going well. You were finally spending some quality time together, just the two of you, just like you did before. But then you had to open your mouth and let your ugly jealousy show. 

Doesn’t matter. It would’ve been ruined anyway when she arrived.  You’re not really in the mood for a live sex show. 

______________________________

But if you thought hiding in your room would shield you from it, then you were dead wrong. You can hear them even from under your pillows. You would put on some noise-canceling headphones but Beomgyu owns those and you really don’t want to go to his room and give your worst nightmares form.   

All you have to distract you now is your phone and your frantic messages to Yeonjun. 

You: Junnie. I’m seriously going to kill myself. 

Yeonjun: Are they that loud? 

You: Her mostly. It’s like she’s intentionally trying to make me vomit. 

Yeonjun: Maybe she is. Maybe she feels threatened by you. 

You: Threatened? That’s crazy. 

Yeonjun: You’re right. It’s not like you hooked up with him before or anything… oh wait. 

You: You’ll be my 13th reason. 

Yeonjun: I’m sorry. If you’re so upset, why don’t we go out? 

You: It’s 2 am…everything is closed.

Yeonjun: So? The streets are open. We can walk around. It’ll be fun.

You: I don’t know. Isn’t that kinda dangerous? 

Yeonjun: That’s the fun of it. But if you’d rather stay home and listen to her fuck the guy you love then be my guest. 

You: I’m getting dressed. 

____________________________

“Do you take these late night walks often?” You ask Yeonjun, hugging your jacket close to your body to fight against the chill in the air. 

“Sometimes. When I have time to.” He shrugs, his breath making visible vapor trails in the air. “There is just something so magical about that period of time between midnight and dawn, when everyone else is asleep and it’s just you and the stars. Feels almost magical, you know?” 

“Yeah. I know. It’s like you could say anything and everything and it would be safe from the light of the morning.” 

You know all this too well because you used to spend that precious time with Beomgyu, cuddled together into the late hours of the night watching movies or talking about nothing even when you knew you had an important lecture in the morning or band practice to go to. 

During those moments you thought that Beomgyu could almost feel how you feel. No two people could share what you shared without being in love, right? 

But it was just the spell of the night talking. There was nothing there. Not from him at least. 

You stop for a second, taking a look at the slumbering city around, looking into windows and wondering about the occupants inside–Are they happy? Are they with their loved one? Do they feel the magic around them? 

Does Beomgyu feel the same way you felt about him with her?

You feel arms wrap around you from behind, and Yeonjun rests his head on your shoulder. “It’s so peaceful, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah.” You relax against him, shutting your eyes and willing yourself to stay in the moment, willing the night to work its magic. 

“How cute.” You hear a gruff voice cut through your attempted peace, and your eyes snap open to see a man holding a knife out at you and Yeonjun. 

“Whoa, whoa.” Yeonjun pulls you behind him. “No need to get violent.” 

“There will be no need if you quietly pass over your phones and wallets.” The man gestures with his knife. 

“I can give you the wallets but I have very important files on my phone.” Yeonjun attempts to reason with him but the man gets closer with the knife. “Hand everything over.” 

“Okay. Okay.” Yeonjun tries to calm him down, while you do everything in your power not to shit yourself. You’ve never been held up at knifepoint before! This is what you get for listening to Yeonjun. The man has orange hair! No good ideas could come from him.

“That’s the fun of it.” You mutter under your breath as you get your stuff out, repeating Yeonjun’s earlier words. “Yeah, this is so fun.” 

You shoot Yeonjun a glare before reaching out to hand over your precious belongings, but as the man goes to take them, Yeonjun suddenly smacks his arm, causing the knife to drop out of his hand and onto the floor.

Both men lunge towards it, attempting to recover the knife, and for the few seconds they fight, your heart stops probably a couple of times. If the mugger gets the knife, you’re sure he’ll send you and Yeonjun off with a few new holes in your bodies. 

Thankfully though, Yeonjun manages to swipe the knife in the end, and he holds it out threateningly. Well, as threatening as you can be with your arm shaking. 

“Aha!” He screams at the mugger, who in turn raises his hands up in surrender. “Get away from us.” 

“That’s my knife.” The man says dumbly. 

“It’s mine now. That’s how it works, isn’t it?” Yeonjun counters, sounding a little crazed. “Now get the fuck away before I return it to you somewhere you wouldn’t like.” 

“You wouldn’t.” The man doubts Yeonjun. 

“Yeah? I was crazy enough to wrestle it from you. You don’t know what I would do.” 

“Fine. This isn’t worth it.” The man turns and runs away. 

You and Yeonjun stay frozen for a good few minutes.

“Holy shit.” He breaks the silence, “I can’t believe I did that!”

“I know! I almost passed out. You’re fucking crazy.” You smack his shoulder, “You could’ve gotten us killed!”

“I know. I wasn’t thinking. It all just happened so quickly.” He breathes in shock, then looks around. “We should probably clear out of here in case he comes back.” 

“Right.” 

You quickly walk away, hurried steps accompanied by the occasional disbelieving exclamation until you deem you’re far enough away. Finally, you stop, looking around to make sure the coast is clear and to gather your bearings. 

You don’t know what comes over you, maybe it’s the stress of nearly dying, but you suddenly burst out laughing. “Fuck, I still can’t believe you did that! We could have died.” 

“But we didn’t.” He tries to argue, grinning madly, “And now we got this cool trophy.” He brandishes the mugger's knife, happy with his conquest before a frown takes over his face. “Do you think he stabbed anyone with this before?” 

“Probably.” 

He lets go of the knife and it falls to the ground with a clang. “Ew.” 

You both burst out laughing again, letting the high emotions runs themselves dry. But as your crazed laughs die down, Yeonjun pulls you close and kisses you, expressing that passion in a different way. 

"Junnie…"

"Did the near death experience turn you on too or is it just me." He jokes and you blush. "Maybe." 

You feel his hands fiddling with the button on your pants, but you grab them to stop him. "No, let me do it this time."

“What do you mean?” He cocks his head to the side. You know he knows what you mean but that he just wants to hear it from you. But instead of answering his question with your words, you get on your knees in front of him instead.

He cups your cheek gently. "You don't have to do this, doll."

"I want to." You undo his pants, taking his cock out and giving it a kiss. "Teach me?"

“That is so fucking sexy.” He hisses, gathering your hair in his hand. “Start slow. Don't overwhelm yourself. Just get it wet first."

“Okay.” You lick his cock, gathering your spit as you go and using your hand to spread it over his entire length. Bit by bit, his cock becomes more hard and slippery, letting you easily slide your hand over it, your tongue licking him everywhere from his shaft to the small opening on his head. 

“Okay, that’s enough teasing.You can start taking some of it in your mouth now.”  

“But I like teasing you. It’s payback, baby.” You grin, refusing to pull back, and starting to suck gently on his balls instead. You don’t know where all this confidence was coming from. You’ve never done this before. In fact, before Beomgyu, you didn’t have any sexual experience at all to speak of. 

But Yeonjun is not Beomgyu, and he doesn’t take your brattiness. He tugs on your hair pulling your head back until you’re completely off his cock, then he grabs your face with his other hand and pushes his thumb into your mouth, opening it. “Don’t make me punish you, doll. I want your first time to be nice so be good now.” 

He pushes you face towards his cock and this time you open up, obediently taking him in. “That’s it… no, no go slow.” He cautions when you take in more than you could, gagging a little bit. “I’m not going to fuck your throat. Not tonight, at least.”  

You moan around his length, squeezing your thighs together in need. 

“Aw, doll. He hasn’t been taking care of you, has he?” He purrs and you pull back, shaking your head. “Didn’t let him.” 

“Good.” He breathes, pushing your head back on his cock, encouraging you to take more and more of him, but being careful to not push you too far, always pulling you back when you start gagging. 

To be honest, you’re not doing much. You’re just letting him fuck your mouth, going along with the pace he sets. But he won’t let you slack. 

“Suck on it, baby.” He purrs, hand getting tighter in your hair, and you pucker your lips, sucking his cock every time you pull back. “Ah, that’s it. You’re doing so well.” 

You look up at him, seeing how he’s starting to struggle a little bit, the pleasure getting to him so you double your efforts, bobbing your head as far as you can go and sucking harshly as you go up. 

As you do that, you inadvertently pull off him with a pop, but before you can put your mouth on him again, he holds you back. “Spit on it. Get it all wet and sloppy.” 

You bite your lip, doing everything to not put your hand between your legs right now. You gather some spit in your mouth, grabbing his red, hard cock in your hand before spitting on it, immediately using your hand to spread the saliva over his length. 

“Use both hands. Twist them as you go up. Makes it feel like you’re milking my cock.” He groans, throwing his head back, and you stare at him, amazed. You never thought you’d actually have a guy feeling like this before. 

I mean, of course, if it was Beomgyu, he would’ve gathered a crowd around you because of his moans by now, but that’s Beomgyu. He’s a virgin and he thinks everything you do is sexy. But Yeonjun has had a lot of experience. So much so that he probably had more than a couple dozen girls blow him off before. 

Oh. You really shouldn’t have thought about that. Now you’re overthinking it, wondering if he actually likes it or if it’s just alright.  I mean, with Beomgyu he’d be babbling all about how good you’re making him feel and begging you not to stop and–

“Are you okay?” Yeonjun snaps you out of your thoughts. 

“Oh, I’m fine.” You squeak, quickly going back to doing that twisting motion he told you about and attaching your mouth to the tip of his cock, sucking on it as if you wanted to drain him. 

“Ah–it’s just–you were kind of–holy shit, that’s good…” He trails off, losing track of his thoughts. “Squeeze your hands as you do that. You’re not gonna hurt me.” 

You hold onto him tighter, letting your tongue prod at his slit as you suck him off and jerk him with your hands, determined to keep his mind off your little slip. 

“Okay, okay, I’m close. Gonna cum, doll, so unless you want it in your mouth then get off.” He tries to pull you away by your hair but you refuse, sucking on him harshly until you feel a warm fluid filling your mouth. “Oh, shit.”

You whine around his cock as your mouth fills up with his cum. You only pull back when he has no more to give, keeping his seed in your mouth for a second before hesitantly swallowing it down.

“Fuck, swallowing on your first time? What a dirty girl.” He purrs, gently smoothing your hair down from the mess he made of it.

He’s very gentle. He really took it slow with you. You should be happy that your first time was so positive, right?

But as you look up at him catching his breath, the strong taste of him on your tongue brings up an ugly feeling of regret. Oh god, if Beomgyu finds out about this, he’ll be so pissed. 

Why are you even doing this? Just to piss him off? Do you actually like Yeonjun? Do you think you can love him the way you love Beomgyu? And does he like you? I mean, he did tell you that he does, but what does that mean? Given his history and all, how many other girls does he like? How many other girls is he doing this with? 

Suddenly you feel dirty, and the pavement burn isn’t helping you feel less like a slut. 

“You okay?” Yeonjun asks again and you shake your head. 

 “Yeah! It just… tastes weird.” You deflect, and Yeonjun laughs, putting his cock back in his pants and helping you up. “I warned you.” 

“I was curious.” You shrug, throat closing up. “But now I really need water.” 

“I’ll get you some water. But first–” He pushes you against a wall, “Let me repay the favor.” 

He tries to lean down to kiss you, but you put a hand up to stop him. “That’s okay. Technically this was me repaying the favor.” 

“Well then owe me one more.” He suggests, trying again but you turn your head to the side. At that, he finally steps back, sighing. “What’s going on?”

"Are you… are you messing around with other women?" You ask uncertainly. Beomgyu really messed with your head. 

"Did you want us to be exclusive?" He asks, and you step away from the wall. "Oh."

Right. Of course. He’s the lead singer of the band. Of course he’ll have a dozen other women after him.  

"I just figured with you and Beomgyu–"

You’re stupid to think he’ll sit around and wait for you. "No, I get it." 

"I swear I am not as much of a manwhore as you probably now think I am." He insists, “It’s just… we’re not dating, right?”

“Right.” You confirm. 

“But if you want to. We can try.” 

You give him a smile with some effort. “We’ll see.” You look up into the sky. "The sun is coming up. Let's go home."

______________________________

By the time you reach home, all the stars have disappeared, drowned out by the oppressive sunlight, and you hope to god Beomgyu is fast asleep. 

"Want me to come inside?" Yeonjun suggests but you shake your head. “No. I’ll just go to sleep. You should too.” 

“Right.” He sighs and moves to leave but then stops abruptly in his tracks. "You didn't say you wanted–"

"Just let me think, Yeonjun." You interrupt, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek when he still looks unsure. “Good night.” 

You don’t let him say more, stepping inside and shutting the door behind you quietly. You look around to make sure the coast is clear before treading lightly to your room. 

"Welcome home.” Beomgyu’s voice stops you in your tracks, and you wince as you turn towards him, seeing him standing in the door of the kitchen holding some coffee. “I suppose you were with Yeonjun again."

“It's not what you think." You don’t know why you’re lying. You don���t know why you even feel guilty about this. Haeun must be sleeping in his bed right this moment. 

"So you didn't go out and hook up with him?" He asks and you stay quiet, making him scoff. “Of course.” 

You let out a heavy breath. "Beomgyu, I can't deal with this right now. I’m tired.”

“Do you like him?” He ignores what you said, tone serious, and you have to stop and think about it for a while.

“Maybe. What’s it to you?” You say at last, feeling lost. You don’t mean to goad him. You just don’t understand his behavior and it’s time he made some sense of it. 

“I just don’t want you to fuck up my band.” He says simply and you stare at him, even more lost. “What?” 

“If you date him and then you break up, it’ll make everything awkward between me and him. This sort of thing has broken up bands before and I just didn’t want that to happen. I don’t want to lose what could be my future because you wanted some dick.” 

You let out an incredulous laugh, tears stinging your eyes. Is that all he cares about? So it’s not about Yeonjun or even about you. It’s because he’s worried about his precious band.  

“Well, that’s not up to you. Is it?” You ask bitterly, but that just riles him up more and he gets all up in your face. “Like hell, it is. This is my future.” 

“Well, this is my future too. Yeonjun could be the one for me.”

He staggers back. “What?” He breathes, stunned. 

“I don’t know!” You exclaim, feeling completely overwhelmed by everything that has happened today and just needing to retreat back to your room and curl up into a ball until you’re able to push the bad feelings away. 

“I need to rest.” You turn around, running to your room and leaving a shell-shocked Beomgyu rooted to the floor. 

______________________

A/N: feedback keeps me going so drop a message about what you think of the new chapter to motivate me to get the next chapter out faster 😂

and once again

Taglist: @tinkw1nks @lol6sposts @zuzuhasablog @beomsl @seolis-world @stantxtorurmissingout @wonwooz1@yaorzu-blog@allylikesdabee@rkivezzs@malieno @leviathanlee26 @yomomas-stuff @kurisaiyunobara @girlwholovekpop @zuzuhasablog @viaaasdiary @ho3forkpop @skzvcr

[aschriles]

Secret identity shenanigans AU where Danny is an intern at LexCorp and has no idea the guy he's been flirting with these past few weeks actually wasn't a fellow intern, but was the son of his boss' boss, and is also Superboy.

(Yeah, that Superboy. From the Titans. The one who kept flirting with him while they were on the field, and sent him a DM on his Phantom account insisting they met during Danny's internship. In his defense, Kon wore flannel. And glasses.)

Danny might not have the best relationship with rich people (see: Vlad), but he had to suck it up if he was going to intern at LexCorp. Anyway, it wasn't like he'd have to personally deliver Luthor his coffee every morning.

Except that's exactly what happens. Somehow, by some sheer cosmic force of the universe, he ends up interning directly under Hope, aka one of Lex Luthor's personal assistant. Which means he's like, Lex Luthor's personal assistant's personal assistant... or something. In theory, it was perfect. In reality, it was stupid.

It was stupid, because Hope sends him out for Luthor's special coffee (an iced Americano from that one coffee shop all the way on the other side of Metropolis) and pastries (a whole-ass apple pie) at nine in the morning every single day when everyone and their mom knew the traffic was literal hell, then expected him to be back at the office five minutes later. Among other things, of course. For the thousandth time since he got stuck in this hell-hole, he made a mental note to burn all of Luthor's robots to the ground the next time Superman called for the JLD to help out with Luthor's stupid invasions. Stupid Luthor. Stupid coffee. Stupid apple pie.

Danny grumbled under his breath as he speed-walked inside the lobby. "Why can't Luthor just take his coffee and shove it—"

"Up his ass? Yeah, that's what I ask myself aaallll the time."

Danny whipped his head around so fast, he almost tripped on his feet. Sitting on one of the comfy couches was a guy around his age. He looked like a weird cross between a country boy (flannel and glasses) and a punk (messy dark hair, piercings, and was that a tattoo?) but like, in a hot way. He also looked—he looked kinda familiar, in an 'I know I saw you from somewhere' kind of way, but Danny couldn't remember where he actually saw him from. He shook his head, figuring he could deal with it later. "You an intern, too?"

Made sense he wasn't the only intern around, but a part of Danny couldn't help but pity the poor guy if he got stuck interning as Mercy's personal assistant. Mercy was scarier than Zatanna and Nightmare Nurse combined.

Flannel shrugged his shoulders. "I mean, I do some odd jobs here and there, so..." His face lit up, like an idea had suddenly occurred to him. "Hey, I could come with you, if you want. As like, moral support or something. You're heading to Hope's office, right?"

Danny paused. Technically, it's not like there was any harm with letting another intern tag along. Plus, he could use some help with the apple pie. "Sure, man. I'm Danny," he added, since it was the polite thing to do, even if he couldn't go for a handshake because Luthor's stupid coffee and apple pie required both hands.

Flannel grinned, all teeth, and maybe he really was famous, like a model? Or someone from TV? Danny was pretty sure he'd seen that smile before. Maybe Flannel was a random civilian he'd rescued? "Nice to meet you, Danny. The name's Conner Kent, but you can call me Kon."

[a-random-weeb]

NOOOO BUT PURPOSELY TRYING TO MAKE BSD MEN FAIL NNN

ft. Dazai, Ranpo, Nikolai, and Sigma

(You’re gonna write for Chuuya anyways)

Hehehe, this sounds hilarious.

Also, you know I don't write for Nikolai

Anyway here are some short headcannons, like, you thought Chuuya was short? Think again

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

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡

ﾟ。 Chuuya:

　ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

(I tried to put a heart around his name)

•He doesn't like NNN, but participates in it none the less (Only because you begged him to)

•Omg he wants to kill you when you try to make things harder for him

•He figures out your plan pretty quickly, and he's pissed

•You got him to participate so you could tempt him!

•You wear revealing clothes around the house and it pisses him off

•He probably can go the whole month without nutting, but watch out, because the minute it hits December first- well, he had to do 'no nut November', now you have to do 'no walk December' if you you what I mean 😏

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚౨ৎ˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚౨ৎ˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚౨ৎ˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚౨ৎ

Sigma:

•Sigma thinks NNN is stupid

•But, you joke that it's because he's too horny not to participate, and what do you know? He actually participated because of the stupid joke you made

•He tries his best, but in the end he probably fails

•He can't handle it, you dressing up so proactively, you flirting and being all sexy, he needs you

•♪you try so hard, and get so far, but in the end, it doesn't even matter~♪

•^that song is the apitamy of how he feels

•When he fails, he comes too you all dramatically like "I failed No Nut November, omg, this is the end of the worlldddddd"

•Poor thing thinks he's done something wrong 😭

•You just laugh and help him with his little 'Problem'

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩°❀⋆.

Dazai:

•He loves No Nut November

•He makes you participate with him

•He knows your plans to try to get him to fail, but he also has plans to make you fail

•Bro will walk around in his boxers. He will be cuddling with you on the couch (only in his boxers) and out of nowhere pull you onto his lap, and make sure you feel his hard shaft against your ass, maybe even rub himself against you a little. He'll kiss your neck and grind against you, whispering dirty stuff in your ear like "When this month is done, you're mine~"

•Yeah, you're not winning sweety

•The worst part is, he won't let you do him til December! Even if you lose!

•You'll have to get yourself off until then

•Even if you lose, he'll still tempt you, but won't let you touch him, it's Hell

•Have fun waiting~

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⭑‧˚ ⋅ .°જ➴๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⭑‧˚ ⋅ .°જ➴๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⭑‧˚ ⋅ .°જ

Ranpo:

•He doesn't participate in it, he thinks it's pointless

•But he will be really pouty if you participate

•He'll whine and annoy you about it

•He knows what you're trying to do, and he complains so much

•He can't wait for the month to end

+.°×'*•.+.°×'*•.+.°×'*•.+.°×'*•.+.°×'*•.+.°×'*•.+.°×'*•.+.°

Yay, I've posted again! I feel bad I haven't been posting, I'm so sorry guys 😭

[dakotalun]

You Belong With Me | Eddie Munson

pairing: Modern!Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: Part 2--Eddie gets a special visit...but it hurts more than it helps.

warnings: drug use, language, mentions of cheating, sad Eddie

word count: 4.2k

a/n: I've estimated about 7 or so parts to this series and I will be working on them for the next couple of weeks.

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

“Yeah I’m coming!” Eddie says from his room, getting up from his bed and pressing the butt of his blunt into the ashtray on the nightstand. He had been laying in bed, listening to Ozzy, smoking and drinking a beer after he got back from the basketball game a little while ago.

He was pissed at you for yelling at him earlier and bailing on him when it was so out of character for you to do so. But it was nice just sitting under the bleachers alone, oogling the love of his life. Another knock comes as he exits his room, “I said I’m coming-” He swings the front door open and it reveals a sad and red eyed Chrissy.

“Shit Chrissy, are- are you okay?” Eddie steps aside and allows her to enter the trailer.

“Hey Eddie. Sorry to just come over unannounced and all,” Her voice is strained but steady, as if she’s used to speaking after crying.

“No no it’s fine. What’s going on?” He walks over to the couch and sits down, Chrissy following after.

“Jason and I got into a big fight after the game tonight,” Eddie’s ears burn at the thought of Jason being a dick to such a sweet girl then return to normal after thinking about the fight he just had with you, “And I couldn’t be around him anymore so I went for a walk. I thought about things on the way then noticed that I was almost to here and decided to stop by.”

Eddie’s surprised at the words coming from her. She thought of him and decided to stop by, could this be his lucky day?

“Aw I’m sorry that sucks. What can I do to help? Do you need me to go beat him up? Cause I will, I’ll do it right now.” His tone is upbeat and happy but he means every word.

A smile creeps onto Chrissy’s face showing her perfect teeth, “No, no. Nothing like that. I was just wondering if you could, um,” She hesitates, nervous to ask the question.

Eddie puts a reassuring hand on her knee, this being the second time in 2 weeks that they’ve touched. “I’ll do anything, just say the word.” His doe eyes wide and full of truth.

“Can I get some weed or pills or something? I’ve not been in the best headspace lately and I just need something to take the edge off.”

Those were not the words he thought she would say, not in a million years. His face grows warm, nervous about selling to Hawkin’s most famous IT girl. He needs the money but he feels bad for taking it from her, she doesn’t look like she’s taken anything stronger than a baby aspirin in her life, and now she wants weed or pills.

“Are- are you sure? Have you ever smoked before?” She shakes her head, “I know I said anything but I don’t know if I can,”

“Oh,” Her head falls down, clearly disappointed at his words, “That’s okay. It was stupid for me to come here anyway. I’ll get out of your hair, let you get back to whatever you were doing.” She stands up, hands running over her short skirt, both out of nervousness and to cover her ass.

Eddie shoots up quickly not wanting her to leave, “Wait! I mean if you really want some weed then I’ll give you some but on one condition.”

Her baby blue irises meeting his dark brown ones, liek two oceans colliding, “What condition?”

“You gotta smoke it with me. Can’t have you choking to death after taking one puff incorrectly, so? We gotta deal?” He holds his hand out for her to shake, needing another form of touch with her.

“Deal.” Her tiny hand is engulfed in his, the warmth of her skin seeping into his palm.

Eddie tells Chrissy to stay in the living room while he goes and gets a joint and lighter from his room. Returning only a few seconds later he plops down on the couch, exhaling a loud sigh.

“So I’ll start it off for you then I’ll show you how to take a hit correctly,” Chrissy nods at his words.

Eddie puts the blunt into his mouth, cupping his free hand around it to shield the imaginary wind as he lights it, taking a few short puffs just to get it started for her. Once he’s satisfied with his work he pulls it from his lips and hands it to her.

Chrissy looks at it weirdly, not even knowing how to hold it. Eddie notices this and opts to just guide the butt just past her lips, her strawberry lipgloss covering the paper. She looks at him every step of the way, not wanting to do it wrong.

“Alright now all you’re gonna do is breathe in slowly,” She follows his words, taking a slow, deep breathe in, “Good. Good, now,” He pulls his fingers and the blunt away from her lips, “Hold it in for a second until you start to feel that burn in your chest, then exhale.”

She holds for a short second before falling into a coughing fit. Eddie goes to rub her back, soothing the burn he knows all too well from his past. She takes a little to regain her barings again before sitting back up and leaning into the worn out couch.

“Okay that is not as easy as you make it look,” Her voice is hoarse, which Eddie only finds attractive.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, the more you do it the less it hurts,” He takes a long hit, letting the smoke fill his lungs for far too long.

“Okay then, guess I’ll have to try again then,” Eddie just nods and takes another hit before handing it back to her. She follows his steps the same way, only this time she isn’t coughing up a lung.

“Nice job. You’re a natural.” Eddie smiles and the two of them sit there just enjoying the peace and sharing a smoke.

Once it’s down to its last little bit, Eddie puts it out and leans deep into the couch, spreading his legs wide in the process. He lays his arms over the back and looks up at the ceiling. He’s always loved doing this after a good smoke, just sitting there, staring at the ceiling and allowing his mind to wander and eventually go blank.

Chrissy is sitting beside him still, more relaxed than before which brings a smile to Eddie’s lips. The room has been quiet for a while and Chrissy has a question that she’s been meaning to ask.

“So, why do you do it?” SHe says after clearing her throat a little.

“Do what?” He doesn’t look at her, still focused on the ceiling above.

“Why do you act the way you do? Why play that game and listen to that music? You do realize it’s not normal right?” This catches his attention, he brings his head up to look at her, her eyes drifting from his face to her lap where she fiddles with her hands.

“Why are you with Jason when you know he’s sleeping with half the girls at the school?” Eddie’s feeling feisty now, not pleased with the sudden line of questioning.

“I asked you first.” Chrissy retorts back.

“I don’t know what you mean. I act the way I do because that’s who I am, and I play D&D because I find it fun and thrilling. Being normal ’s just not for me, trust me on this one sweetheart.”

“But it could be. If you tried, then you wouldn’t have everyone staring at you and calling you a freak.”

“Yeah but you forget one thing,” Eddie’s sitting up right now, hands on his knees as he gets closer to her. Her eyes are looking at him again, scanning his face quickly, almost worry in her eyes.

“What’s that?” Chrissy’s voice is small and weak, Eddie’s presence now intimidating as he gets right up in her face, a mere inch apart.

“I don’t give a damn what people think.” Chrissy is staring into his eyes now, completely locked in and focused. 

“Your turn, why Jason?” Eddie really is curious as to why she’s with him, and he know’s it can’t only be for the social status, “And don’t say because he’s captain of the laundry basket game.”

“It’s called basketball and I wasn’t going to say that. I like him because he’s sweet and kind and always does the best for others.”

Eddie can’t believe the words she just used to describe him, “Jason? Like Jason Carver, the one who bullies me relentlessly and judges people if they breathe the wrong way? That Jason?”

“Yes Eddie, that Jason.” 

“But how?”

“I know he’s not the best to be around during school but that’s just because his dad is a jackass who won’t get off his back about basketball and his grades. He’s stressed all the time and just needs a break. And when he’s with me he’s thi sweet guy who doesn’t care what others think, just wanting to be the best he possibly can be.”

Eddie looks at her, mouth wide like a fish that’s trying to get air after being pulled from the water. Never in his 20 years of life did he think that he would hear someone say those things about Jason, especially in his trailer! It felt like an out of body experience.

“Can I ask you another question?” Chrissy is looking at him, ignoring the stunned expression.

“Uh sure. But this is the last one.”

“What’s up with you and y/n?” “Nothing, why?” The hair on the back of Eddie’s neck stand up at the mention of you.

“I didn’t se her with you today at the game and I was just curious. I mean you two are always together, even Jason and I don’t spend that much time together. Guess you guys just have a good relationship.”

“Woah woah woah. Y/n and I aren’t in a relationship. She’s just a friend.”

Chrissy gives him a quizzical look, not fully believing him, “Uh huh, so you guys just carpool together and walk to classes together and eat lunch together because you’re friends?”

“Yes. We do,” Eddie sits up straighter now, feeling like he has to assert dominance in this situation.

“Okay then. I was just wondering,” Chrissy is looking directly in his eyes now, analyzing the vast space of his irises.

His eyes are cool and calm, whilst hers are wide and a little curious. Eddie’s gaze dips from hers to her lips then back up again. Her lipgloss is pretty much gone, most of it on the end of the discarded blunt. They are soft and pink, not at all chapped and worn like his.

Eddie’s feeling bold and a little angry right now. Bold from the weed and angry at you for not believing that he could have Chrissy if he wanted to, so his next moves weren’t quite thought out. So before either of them knows it his lips are on hers. Chrissy gasps into the kiss, it quickly being muffled by his mouth. She knows she should pull away, she knows she shouldn’t be kissing anyone other than Jason, especially Eddie “The Freak” Munson, but his lips taste different and the way he holds himself is in high contrast from Jason.

So she leans in a little, giving back to what Eddie is giving her. They kiss for what feels like forever to Eddie but in actuality it was only a few seconds before she pulls away.

“I-” Chrissy tries to speak but the words fall silent on her tongue before she can even get them out.

“Shit, I’ve been wanting to do that for so fucking long. It’s even better than I imagined,” Eddie has his world famous grin on, happy to have finally made a move on his dream girl. He starts to lean back in for another kiss when one of Chrissy’s small hands touch his chest, pushing him back.

“What? What’s wrong?” Eddie’s concerned now.

“It’s, um, it’s Jason. I can’t do this to him.”

“But the guy is a jerk, you can do better than him,” Eddie puts his hand over the one onhis chest, “I can treat you better than he can.”

Her eyes are still downcast, not even daring a quick glace up to his. She slips her hand out from under his, letting it fall into her lap again. “Eddie I’m sorry. Really I am, but I can’t. I love him, and he loves me.”

The words are like acid to Eddie’s ears, his face burning at the sound. His body goes numb as he falls back into the couch. Chrissy is talking but he can’t understand her, being rejected is already too much to bear.

“You should go.” His voice is cold, harsh; he barely recognizes it himself.

“Yeah, um okay.” She gets up, gethers her things then rushes out the door. The sound loudly reverberating off the walls of the tin can Eddie calls a home.

He sits there. For a good 10 minutes he just sits there, thinking. Thinking about how he just kissed his dream girl, about how her lips felt on his, how good her lipgloss tasted on his tongue, how much he wishes it could’ve lasted longer, how he hates himself to doing it in the first place.

Eddie’s been dreaming of that moment since he was in 7th grade. He hoped she would be his first, in everything; first girlfriend, first kiss, first to have sex with him-he hoped for it all. Now he’s left sitting here, rejected and cold and alone.

What makes him feel worse is that he can’t even go talk to the one person he knows would make him feel better because she’s mad at him for something she was ultimately right about. He just wishes he could take this entire day back and start over.

---

All night you had been laying in bed and wracking your brain for all the possible ways to make it up to Eddie. Going through all these years of friendship the two of you share, thinking of all the things Eddie loves; weed, horror movies, milkshakes from Jay’s Diner, and the cookies you make.

You get up from your bed, the bright light of the rising sun peaking through your curtains. You could only sleep for a few hours that night, too afraid that you had ruined your best friendship. Throwing the blankets off yourself you get ready for the day, choosing comfort more than style.

An hour later you are standing in front of Eddie’s trailer, cookies and milkshakes in hand as you carry a bag of all his favorite horror movies you had just gotten from Family Video. You clock that Wayne’s truck is still outside even though he is normally on his way to work by now, but you don’t pay much attention to it as you knock on the door.

You wait for a few seconds and then are faced with the older man with salt and pepper hair.

“Hi Wayne.” You greet with a smile on your face.

“Hey honey, you here for Ed?” He moves aside to let you in.

“Yeah we uh got into a little fight last night and I wanted to check in on him. Brought milkshakes and cookies.” You hold up the items in your hand. Wayne smiles at your gesture, one Eddie would be sure to love as well.

“He’s been real upset today. Hasn’t said a word to me since I got back from work this morning, rarely comin’ outta that room a his.”

You’re confused for a minute at his words. Eddie seemed mad at you sure but to go as far as to lock himself in his room all day, that was dramatic, even gor him. The look on your face must’ve clued Wayne in on the fact that you had no clue what he was talking about.

“If ya don’t mind, may I ask what you fought about?” HE rubs the back of his neck, a thing Eddie does when he too is nervous, “Possibly get an idea as to why he’s like this.”

“Well he wanted to go to the basketball game last night but I wasn’t feeling up for it. I had tried a few times to tell him I didn’t wanna go but he’s a stubborn one,” Wayne nods his head and smiles a little, “I let my anger get to me and accidentally yelled at him, saying things I did and didn’t mean. But I didn’t think he would be that mad about it, not enough to lock himself inside for hours.”

The two of you standing there in silence, contem,plating all the other reasons for Eddie’s behavior today. The older man looks at his watch then sighs, knwoing it’s time to go to work but not wanting to leave his nephew.

“Go ahead. I’ll see if I can get to him, I’ll call you about what happened later.” Wayne gives you a reassuring smile and a squeeze on the arm before heading out the door and to his late night job.

You take a deep breath in and out, calming your nerves. You set the milkshakes into the freezer, not wanting them to melt as the two of you talked before heading down the short hallway to the metalhead’s room.

It’s rare to see Eddie’s door closed, always an open book in his own house. You knock on his door 3 times, a special order to them, signaling that it was you who was outside of it. Eddie was the one who suggested the two of you got a secret knock, being that both of your parental figures tended to just walk in unannounced and without warning.

The knock was short and sweet, something easy to remember. Eddie was the one who used it most, knocking on your window late at night to steal you away for a night drive or a smoke sesh. 

There is no response from Eddie, so you try the knock again, hoping he just didn’t hear you the thifrst time. Nothing, no response.

“Ed? You okay in there? Wayne said you haven’t left there all day.” You try and keep your voice neutral, not showing the hurt from deep inside that this might be your fault, “Look if this is about out fight last night I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I wasn’t in the right head space and I really shouldn’t’ve talked to you that way.” Still nothing, not even the shifting of sheets could be heard.

“I brought some movies and cookies. Oh and that milkshake you love so much from Jay’s.” You start to get worried now, Eddie has never been this quiet in his life, “Eddie please talk to me. I really didn’t mean to say those things about you and I take back every word. If you really, truly love Chrissy then I will support you. I just don’t want you to get hurt is all, I love you and hate seeing you like this.”

At the mention of Chrissy, Eddie’s heart constricted thinking about what happened last night. And for the first time all day, he speaks.

“It’s not your fault,” The words are soft, the sound in his voice coming out strained.

“Are you sure? I know I was harsh and I take full responsibility for your emotions and my actions. Can I come in? I kinda feel like I need to say this to your face.” You pause a moment, waiting for something, anything. Then you hear the small *click* of his door being unlocked. You open it and gasp at the sight in front of you.

Eddie is laying on his bed, blankets wrapped tightly around him as tissues surround and litter the the places around him. He was crying.

“Shit.” You say under your breath. There is soft music playing in the back ground, you recognize the song to be K. by Cigarettes After Sex. You know the song is on his sad playlist, one he rarely listened to that you knew of. So for him to be listening to it right now is startling.

“Eds?” You walk into the rom fully now, setting the cookies and movies down on the floor by the door. You take a few steps towards his bed, his back is turned to you.

“Eddie, what’s wrong?” You’re now at the edge of his bed, wanting more than anything for him to turn around and look at you. He just lays there, his breathing moving his chest up and down slowly.

“I fucked up.”

“Huh?” You weren’t even sure he said anything that’s how quietly he said it.

“I fucked up, badly.” He turns around now, showing you the aftermath of his endless crying all night. His eyes are puffy and red, tear lines stain his face as a little bit of snot if still lingering on his nose.

You’ve never, ever seen Eddie cry out of sadness before, happiness, excitement, pleasure, sure but not sadness and it worried you to your core to know who or what did this to him. You take a seat on his bed, placing a hand on his thigh, the layers of blankets stopping any sort of heat of his to tough yours.

“What happened? Why do you think you fucked up?”

“Chrissy came by last night…” That’s when your ears perked up, so this was her fault huh? “She wanted drugs but I wasn’t sure she should do them alone since I figured she’s never done them before. Being miss popular “good girl” and all.”

Eddie sits up now, clearing his throat as you just sit there, leting him talk. “I offered to sit with her and teacher her how to smoke properly as to not hurt herself, you know?” You only nod, “Well we were sitting there a few minutes just passing it back and forth, talking occasionally until she asked me a question.”

“Which was?”

“Why do you act the way you do? It seemed harmless at the time, just something that one would ask the town freak,” Your heart pangs at the name he calls himself, “I retorted with a question of my own, following in her line of questioning. Everything was good, then she looked at me. Like really looked at me and I couldn’t hold back anymore, after what you said and the way she just seemed so damn pretty even after coming here with tears staining her face. I kissed her.”

Your eyes went wide. He kissed her. Eddie kissed Chrissy. Eddie Munson and Chrissy Cunningham kissed. The “town freak” and the “cheery good girl” of Hawkins kissed. No matter what way you put it nothing changed. The boy you love, are in love with kissed someone else, someone who had a boyfriend who despised Eddie.

You’re silent, not even breathing as Eddie stares at you, “We only kissed for a few seconds but it was great, her lips were soft and sweet. I wanted to stay like that forever, I could’ve if she didn’t pull away. She told me it was wrong and she couldn’t do it, Jason being the one she loved, even though I know for a fact that he’s fucking other girls around the school.”

The words and thoughts of Eddie kissing Chrissy still heaven’t left your brain, you needed to get them out. “So that’s why you’ve been in here all day. Cause Chrissy rejected you? Not our fight?” You needed a clear answer.

“Yeah. I mean part of it was because we fought, but only a small part, most being because of the kiss.” His eyes are on his lap, where he messes with the chunky rings adorning them. You place your hand over his, stopping th nervous tick.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. You’ll find someone else who doesn’t have a dickwad for a boyfriend and who loves you just as much as you do them and you’ll be happy. I promise,” Clearly you were talking about yourself but he didn’t need to know that. He gives you a smile and pulls you in for a hug, squeezing tightly.

“Thanks sweetheart. You always know what to say to cheer me up.”

“I’ll always be there for you Ed, you know that.” The two of you break apart, you missing the warmth of his body against yours all too much.

“Did I hear something about horror movies and milkshakes?” You laugh at his change in conversation.

“Yes you did. I went to Jay’s earlier to get your favorite, which I still don’t get ow you can drink a birthday cake milkshake but I still bought it.” You stand from his bed, extending your hand out to im, “Let’s get you out of here, watch some movies and eat a shit ton of unhealthy foods.”

Eddie takes your hand without even taking a second thought, letting you lull him to his couch in the other room. The two of you sit there for the rest of the night, watching movies, eating cookies and drinking milkshakes. Everything was back to normal, almost.

Your heart still beat for Eddie but you knew now that you couldn’t do anything to pursue it, knowing it would only confuse and hurt him more. So for now you would stay an arm's length away, letting him pull you in whatever direction he wanted, a smile plastered to your face the entire way.

Eddie Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis @witchwolflea @micheledawn1975 @daydreaming-mood @idfwfeelings @adaydreamaway08 @preciousbumplingbee @rustboxstarr @plk-18 @teary-eyed-egg @needylilgal022 @exploding-bonbon @gagasbee @eddiemunsonsguitarpicc @aol19 @thatwitchyoucouldntburn-blog

You Belong With Me Taglist: @emma77645 @ch4rlie-blogs @lucyteennope @sidthedollface2 @f-me-reid @elvendria @amira0303 @comic-harley @futuristicbirdtraveler @eddiemunson95 @gemnetjournal @sakaur-i @bakugouswh0r3 @sunshineandwitchery @theonceandfuturewinchester @bibieddiesgf @harmfulb1tch @marsflys @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @daydreaming-mood @rach5ive @tlclick73 @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @plk-18 @dreamerjj @ceda1063 @eddiemunsonsguitarpic @suzy2872628 @idfwfeelings @fanfangying1304 @buckybarnescouldchokeme @4bigail @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @siouxiesiouxtryhard @urinternetmom @fuckmylifedudee @aol19

[thecreelhouse]

and what if i said “on your knees” prompt with st…s…ste…. oh i can’t even say it……

loml hello!!!!!!!!! 🥹 hope u like this bestie<3

———

“O-okay, you’re— you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Shoving Steve against a filthy wall in some stranger’s house, you’re determined to make Steve think of something, anything else, other than being trapped in the Upside Down. “C’mon, Steve. I’m not fucking stupid. You’ve been staring at me non-stop lately. Any reason why?”

“Because you’re- you- well,” Steve is trying his hardest to be a gentleman. Or, whatever else is close to that at this point. After diving through the watergate, he’s shirtless and wrapped in bandages, and you’ve only got a mini-skirt on (Yeah, great fashion choice before doing anything related to this hell of a different dimension. Great job!), and somehow lost half your shirt in the process.

You’re not a believer in much, but you’re sure as hell this is fate, or something close, pressuring you to finally make Steve realize you like him just as much, if not more. With your hands holding his arms to his sides, you glance up at him with the biggest gaze, one that sets off the storm awaiting inside him.

It’s the same stare he’s dreamed of time and time again, staring up at him while you’re choking on his cock.

“We could be stuck here for a very long time, y’know.” You purr, running your hands up his sides, careful as your fingertips run over his bandages. “The others are at Nancy’s anyway. We got time to kill. I literally saw you palming yourself when we were walking down the street away from the group— dude, please tell me you’re aware you weren’t that sneaky. You know that, right?”

“I— I don’t want to be mean.” Is all he can bring himself to say, but you laugh, startling him.

“Steve? As much as I love when you’re a gentleman, I’d fuckin’ love to see the old you tell me what to do. C’mon, babe, I know it’s still in you.”

You’re both the worst and best thing to happen to Steve Harrington. You’ve been such a badass through this entire adventure— it’s what you’re calling it, not him— and now you’re begging for King Steve to make a special appearance, boss you around and maybe make you cry, if he’s lucky. He wishes that thought alone, the idea of you crying while he’s ruining you, didn’t make his dick so goddamn hard. You realize how conflicted he looks, wanting to be respectful, wanting to treat you like a person, not just another piece of ass he’s chasing for one night only. You also see the way his eyes darken when you ask him to be his old self, to be mean to you, and you’re determined to lure that part out of him.

“I’m a big girl, I can tell you to stop if I need. Promise, Steve.” You’re hoping this helps, it comes off as begging, like he’s in control, but you’ve got the reins here, even if it’ll all be in his favor. “C’monnnnn, you nearly died, don’t you wanna—“

Steve’s fingers wind through your hair, soft at first, but once he has the handful he was searching for, his grip tightens, hard. You whine at the way he tugs your head up closer to his, nearly meeting him at eye level, but you’re on your tippy toes regardless.

“Nearly died saving your sorry ass. We nearly fucking died, and all you can think of is getting off? Seriously?” Steve’s eyes drop to your lips, pouting with need. “Open.”

Your eyes widen at the way he’s switched so suddenly, mouth falling open on his command. He spits into your mouth, thriving over the sight of you gagging on his own spit, without even kissing you. “That enough? Or you need more?”

Unsure what he was asking this for, you shrug, pussy throbbing as he tugs harder on your locks. “Heard you had the best mouth in our class, wanna prove it?”

Dizzy, you nod softly, in awe of how quick it was for him to jump back into his old ways. “Please? Can I?” A mixture of his spit and yours spills between your lips, right onto yourself. He watches the mess you make with a smirk, one that would’ve killed you back in high school, and still kills you now.

“Only ‘cause you sound so goddamn pathetic right now.” Steve loosens his grip on your hair, but has enough of a hold to push you towards the floor. “On your knees, honey. You said we got time to kill, don’t fuckin’ waste it.”

[sunnys-out]

Your damn cherry chapstick | Alex Morgan

a/n: from this prompt list. Let's pretend that voicemails can actually be this long lol.

Prompt Request: 10. I still remember how you taste...

Warnings: Implied Smut, MDNI, cursing, alcohol

Word Count: 573

Part 2 here

You have one new message

“God, I shouldn't even be doing this, fuck, how long since we talked talked?... I shouldn’t have had that stupid fucking wine... Fuck, like it matters, you probably are going to delete this once you see it’s from me…I’m not here to say congrats on marrying Servando…nah you know that’s not very me.”

Pause

“I regret introducing you to Servando, I really do…I would’ve been the one dancing with you at that Gala. I was just sitting there drinking away at that cheap ass, champagne they gave us and overlooking the campus while you were having the time of your life.”

Pause

“Funny, he looked so happy having you in his arms that day when not even hours before I was in between your legs, Morgan. I thought I had you back completely but you broke up whatever we had and went running to him once we got to the end of the year Gala for Cal Soccer”

Pause

“Do you remember that last time? You showed up at my apartment after skipping your Philosophy lecture wanting to “see me again” after ignoring me for weeks because you were with Servando. Hell, talking lasted 6 minutes before you pushed me against the wall begging me to kiss you…”

“I still remember how you taste, Alex…even the taste of your damn, cherry, chapstick. The sounds you made for me then are ingrained in my head...God, I’ll never forget. The way that it was all because of me and I was the only one who could make you feel that way… you said it yourself. Fuck, I wouldn’t have let you go that morning if I had known it was the last time; maybe things would have been different.”

Pause

“Nah, you knew what you were doing. It was just a fucking goodbye, wasn’t it? Got my hopes up and just broke it the moment you saw Servando?!? Fuck, Alex, you know what, I’m glad I had that career-ending injury in  Portland, I saved myself all that time pining over you, wishing to have your back…”

Pause

“That sounded pathetic of me…’I still remember how you taste, Alex’ like that isn't the sound of pining over someone. Hell, you wouldn’t have said the same for me maybe because I didn’t let you…I was just happy tasting you and having you all to myself.”

Pause

“You know Servando actually texted me asking me if I wanted to be invited to the wedding. Said that I slipped through the cracks in planning…Funny, wonder if that was intentional on your part, babe. Afraid that you’ll leave Servando immediately if you see me. I mean you did that but to me back all those years ago…why wouldn’t you do it again?”...Anyways, Sev, pushed the idea that I give a speech of how I introduced you two…I declined of course…said I was busy.  

Pause 

“Is it cocky for me to assume I was the best you ever have? Probably… Anyways good luck on this marriage thing. Tell Servando that his ass should be happy that I introduced him to “the love of his life”. I hope you remember me the way that I remember you, I love you Alex Morgan, I’ve always had…it’d be ironic if I said don’t be a stranger because you do that all on your own…”

“Don’t you dare text me…I swear to God, Alex Morgan”

End of Message

[daisynik7]

Win a Date with Takada-Chan! Part I

Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: ~4.6k

cw: reader described as having hair, reader has curves, suggestive dialogue, sexual tension, explicit language

Summary: You win a very exclusive contest to join in a group date with Takada-Chan! You’re able to bring a guest, but Sara is busy that day. Who else can you ask? None other than your fake boyfriend Aoi Todo. 

Author’s Notes: Here’s chapter five, enjoy! Thanks for the support on this so far, I really appreciate it. Divider credit to @/saradika. 

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

After recounting to Sara all that was said between you and Todo, her first response is, “What the fuck?!” She grabs your two braided pigtails to twirls the ends in your face. “This was all said right in front of me and Yuji?!” You nod sheepishly to confirm. The two of you are waiting at the bus stop, heading back to your place from Club Coffee. After seeing Todo pull you forward to whisper in your ear, your best friend is naturally very curious at what was said. 

“I told you he was a perv, but I guess you are too. Naughty girl,” she teases, still tugging on one of your braids. 

You cover your face with your hands, embarrassed. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You liked that he was checking you out! You like him!”

“I don’t like him!” you protest. “I don’t even know him!”

“But you’re attracted to him. You can’t deny that.” She stares at you with a brow raised, waiting for you to confess. God, you hate it when she’s right. She always rubs it in your face.

In a quiet voice, you mumble, “Yeah, I’m attracted to him.”

Sara snaps her fingers as if she just solved a case. “I knew it, I fucking knew it! You were in such denial the other day. Now you can drop this stupid act and just fuck already!”

“I don’t think he’s attracted to me.”

“He was staring at your ass all day. And he told you he likes it rough and wants to show you. What do you call that?”

“He was only saying those things to mess with me since I was messing with him! Also, I’m sure if someone put a mini skirt on an inflatable banana, that man would still check out its ass.” You pause to take a deep sigh. “Also, you’re forgetting the most important thing: He’s in love with Takada-Chan. I mean, the dude is already planning their wedding.”

Sara snorts, rolling her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re attracted to this guy.”

You groan loudly. “I know! What is wrong with me?!”

“Well, it’s pretty clear he’s whipped for Takada-Chan, so there’s nothing that can be done about that. We’ll have to think of something else.”

“We don’t have to think of anything else. It’s not like I’m in love with him or anything. I’m just attracted to him. That’s it. I’ll just have to get over it eventually, which I probably will as soon as he opens his big dumb mouth the next time I see him.”

“Look at you, already looking forward to the next time you see him,” Sara says, smirking. 

You can’t believe your sudden feelings for him. Can you even call these feelings? It’s just physical attraction, right? Sure, his confidence is sexy, despite how annoying he can be most of the time. And you know he’s loyal, given his dedication to Takada-Chan. That is something you can respect. You remind yourself that this man hasn’t really done anything nice for you. All the interactions you’ve had together have been argumentative and combative, constantly trying to one up each other. Were there hints of sexual tension here and there? Maybe. But at the end of the day, there isn’t a reason for you to have feelings for Todo, besides your physical attraction to him. You barely know anything about him. 

Whatever this is, you decide the best way to move forward is to drop this silly back-and-forth you constantly have with him. Today, he was mature enough to apologize and call a truce, but you decided to take a little bit of revenge anyways. It was petty of you to make suggestive comments in an attempt to embarrass him. It also didn’t work since he landed the final blow. 

The next time you see him, you make a promise to yourself to be nice, as you normally would. Maybe your feelings for him will become clearer.

~~~ Todo walks beside Yuji towards the train station, hands in his pocket, reflecting. There’s a fluttering in his stomach as he recalls his rival, basically whispering sweet nothings into his ear. I’ll keep the skirt on while you show me how rough you like it.

Holy shit. His cheeks burn red just thinking about it. Todo never surrenders, but in that moment, he had to. He was so tempted to grab her by the hand and take her up on her offer. No woman has ever said anything like that to him. The few he has been with never engaged in dirty talk. Is he realizing just now how much he’s into it? Because damn, he is really into it. His imagination runs wild with thoughts of her straddling him in that fucking mini skirt, her braids bouncing with every movement, giggles and moans escaping from that cute smile of hers.

Holy shit, seriously, he needs to calm down.

“Today was fun!” Yuji’s voice snaps Todo out of his extremely inappropriate subconscious. 

Todo chuckles. “Yeah, it was.”

“You and your rival seem to be getting along better,” Yuji says, with a smirk. 

“Yeah, I guess.”

After a long pause, Yuji asks, “So…are we not going to talk about how you were totally checking her out?”

Todo scoffs. “What’s there to talk about?”

“I don’t know, Todo. You seem pretty smitten.” His brother tries his best to hold in his laughter. 

“I’m not smitten. Don’t be so stupid, brother. It’s not that deep.”

“I just haven’t seen you gawk at someone like that in a while. Other than Takada-Chan, of course.”

Todo whips her head towards Yuji and glares at him. “Now you’re really sounding ridiculous, brother. You know I only have eyes for sweet, precious Takada-Chan.” Yuji chuckles and doesn’t press on the matter further. Todo continues to contemplate in silence. 

It’s not like he is truly committed to Takada-Chan the rest of his life. He may be eccentric and delusional, but he’s not an idiot. He knows deep, deep down that the pop idol and him will never be together. Just as he knows that she never rejected him and that they never even went to middle school together. Deep into the abyss of his being, he knows this is all a fabrication. But he likes living in his little fantasy world of his. He needs it. It gives him something to look forward to, even if it is all pretend. It’s something hopeful. Something positive. Being a Jujutsu Sorcerer is a dangerous job. He knows he puts his life at risk every mission. The reality of his world is harsh, what harm is it to play pretend and hope for something fun in his life? 

He's never had long term relationship. Sure, he’s hooked up with a few different women here and there. It never led to anything serious. Is that even something he wants? A serious relationship? What does that even mean to Todo? 

The biggest cause of stress for him is boredom. Maybe he values a relationship that keeps him on his toes. He likes a woman who can keep up with him. And he isn’t the type of man that is easy to keep up with. When he thinks about his “rival”, he realizes that all their interactions are never boring. He likes her fiery attitude towards him. She doesn’t back down from a fight, even if she knows she’s outmatched. Todo can be an intimidating person, though it doesn’t seem to faze her. 

He knows she’s capable of being nice. She put on the whole act of pretending to be a couple to get Takada-Chan’s attention. Because of her, Todo’s dream of meeting the idol and getting her to know his name came true. She also gave him the signed poster. He still wonders why she did all of that. Is it because she cares for him? A stranger? A stranger who has always been an ass to her? That would be crazy, right? 

Today, he’s seen her naughty side. He knows she said those things to provoke him, but holy shit. It was hot. And it wasn’t just because of the outfit she was wearing. The confidence in which she said it was enticing. The way she touched his thigh, knowing it would rile him up. It’s like she knows what gets him going. 

And what compelled him to whisper those parting words to her? We’ll just have to reschedule. He wanted to get the last say, he wanted the upper hand. But that’s not all it was. Part of him meant it, wanted it. Maybe he still wants it.

She can be naughty, and she can be nice. He’s seen a little bit of both those sides of her. It intrigues him. He likes it. He wants to see more. 

~~~

A week after Takada-Chan’s birthday, the pop idol’s official website releases details on a new contest: Win a Date with Takada-Chan! There will be five winners selected and they can bring a guest. The “date” consists of a party bus ride with Takada-Chan from a predetermined meeting spot to a studio location. At the studio, the lucky guests get a behind the scenes look at an official Takada-Chan photoshoot. After the photoshoot, Takada-Chan will treat her guests to an exclusive private dinner at her favorite sushi restaurant in Tokyo. 

It all seems too good to be true. A whole day with the Takada-Chan? Incredible.

To enter the contest, you must submit a photo of yourself showing how big of a fan you are. Then you must write a little blurb about why you would love to win the contest. You decide to submit the photo of you, Todo, and Takada-Chan doing the Taka-tan Beam in her dressing room. In your description, you write about how much you admire Takada-Chan for her talent, confidence, and overall bright persona. 

The winners are announced two weeks after. Miraculously, you are one of them. You cannot believe your luck. The pop idol gods have blessed you, indeed. 

You tremble with excitement as you speed dial Sara on your phone. 

“Hey! What’s up?” she answers.

“You’ll never believe it. I won the contest!” 

“Are you serious?! Holy shit! Congratulations!”

“And I get a guest! You’re coming with me!”

“Sounds good. When is it?”

“Next Saturday.”

“Next Saturday?”

“Yes!”

“Dude, we’re hosting a huge party at the restaurant. I won’t be able to make it, I’m serving.”

You frown to yourself. “Aw man. Okay. I guess I’ll have to find someone else.”

You hear your best friend snickering in the background, but she doesn’t say anything.

“What are you laughing about?” you ask. 

“You know exactly who you should bring.”

“No. No way.”

“He’s your fake boyfriend, don’t you think Takada-Chan will be suspicious if you don’t bring him?”

“I mean, I’ll make up some excuse. I’m not going to ask Todo.”

“Why not?! We’ve already established that you’re attracted to him. This will be another good opportunity to get to know him better! Or at least gauge how you really feel about him.”

You let out a loud sigh. “You really can’t make it?”

She laughs. “No, I can’t. Just ask Todo. Maybe you two can finally become friends and go to Takada-Chan events together instead of dragging me and Yuji to them.”

“Gasp. I’m hurt. I thought you loved going to Takada-Chan events with me!” you tease. 

“The reason I go to the events is because I love you. But Todo might be the answer to all my prayers. Who would have thought that giant mountain of a body would be my saving grace?”

“Ha ha, very funny. Fine. I’ll ask him,” you say, begrudgingly. Then you add, “And for the record, I love you too.”

You can hear your best friend smile through the phone. “Yeah, I know. Now go get your man.”

“Sara!”

~~~

Todo is in the middle of eating ramen when he looks at his phone to see a notification. It’s a text from someone named “Rival”. Why is she texting him?

He opens their message thread. Besides the new message he just received, the only thing on there is their photo with Takada-Chan. He almost forgot how cute this picture is. 

Rival: Hey, are you free next Saturday?

He drops his spoon in his soup bowl, reading the text slowly. His heart starts racing faster as he types out a response.

Todo: Yes. Why?

He sees the 3 dots. After a few more seconds, she texts back.

Rival: I won Takada-Chan’s date contest. Sara can’t make it, so I’m asking you. 

The contest! Win a Date with Takada-Chan! He entered that weeks ago and never got any response back. He assumed he wasn’t picked. She won?! He’s too excited to text. He presses the phone icon to call her. After a few rings, she picks up. “Todo?”

For some reason, hearing her say his name makes his heart skip a beat. His breath hitches for a millisecond before he responds, “Hey. Yeah, it’s me. You won the contest?”

She chuckles. “Yeah, I did.”

After a few moments of silence, Todo asks, “And you want to take me?”

“Well, Sara can’t make it. So, I figured the next best option would be Takada-Chan’s #2 fan.”

Todo grumbles. “I thought we were past this.”

She giggles. “Yeah yeah, I know, I’m just teasing you. So, are you down?”

“Hell yeah, I’m down. Just text me the details.”

“For sure. I’ll see you next week.”

They hang up and Todo completely abandons his ramen. He’s too thrilled to continue eating. A date with Takada-Chan? It’s official. All his dreams are coming true, minus marrying the pop idol. But he can live with that for now.

It was all thanks to her. His rival. Or maybe he should start calling her his acquaintance? Or friend? Were they even friends? All the thoughts he’s had of her these past two weeks have not been appropriate of someone intending to be just “friends”. It’s safe to say that Todo has not forgotten any part of their interaction at the café. It’s even safer to say that the memory of her outfit that day combined with her flirtatious demeanor lives in his mind rent free. 

Whatever these feelings are, he must contain them next week. All his attention will be on Takada-Chan, and that’s it. He’s determined not to be distracted by anything, or anyone, else. 

~~~

The day of Takada-Chan’s big group date finally arrives. The outfit you decide to wear today is simple: A lilac purple sweetheart dress that ends just right above your knees and white espadrille sandals. You wear a gold necklace with two interlocking circles. Sara has the exact same kind; you bought it as a matching set to symbolize your unwavering friendship, as cheesy as that sounds. 

The meeting location for the group date is about a 20-minute bus ride from your house. You texted Todo the location last week, right after you told him the news. You’re absolutely thrilled to spend the day with Takada-Chan, but also a little apprehensive being on the date with Todo. You’ve replayed your last encounter with him many times over in your mind. You haven’t been able to go a day without thinking about him. When you talked to him on the phone, it was normal. As if you two didn’t exchange sexually charged comments with each other just the other week. What will it be like today? 

You take a deep breath as the bus approaches your stop. Are you more nervous about seeing Takada-Chan or Todo? You can’t even tell. 

From the stop, you walk about five minutes to the meeting location. It’s an empty parking lot. From your understanding of today’s agenda, a party bus with Takada-Chan will pick you up at 1:00 PM. Currently, it’s 12:40 PM. 

The 4 other winners are already there with their plus ones. All of them are men. You laugh to yourself as Sara’s voice plays in your head. “Sausage-fest” is what she would say. 

You check your phone. 12:45 PM. Should you text him to see where he is?

A few minutes later, Todo arrives. He’s wearing a dark purple t-shirt with black joggers. The shirt hugs his body tightly, accentuating every muscle and ab on his rock-hard body. 

Wow, you think to yourself. This is the first time you’ve noticed his attire. Has he always worn outfits like this? He looks good. Really good. 

You swallow the drool that is currently pooling in your mouth as he approaches you. His expression is neutral when he first greets you. You catch him scanning up and down your body, observing you. Then he smirks. “You look good.”

There’s a tingling right below your belly. You take a deep breath before saying, “Thank you. You too.” 

He continues to smirk at you as you look directly into each other’s eyes. You gulp loudly, feeling shy. But you don’t want to look away from him. 

Suddenly, someone approaches you two. It’s one of the other winners of the contest. The rest of the winners follow closely behind him. “Hey.”

“Hello,” you respond. Something about the way they look at you doesn’t seem friendly. 

“Are you the ‘couple’ that Takada-Chan brought into her dressing room?” He puts air quotes around the word “couple”.

Todo steps closer to him, intimidating. “Yeah. What’s it to you?”

The guy smirks, then looks back at the other fans. “See guys, I knew it was all a fraud. Pathetic.”

You scowl at them and ask, “What the hell do you mean by that?”

The annoying guy lets out a malicious laugh before saying, “It’s pretty obvious you two aren’t a couple. You might have Takada-Chan fooled, but not us. We just think it’s pathetic that two fans would stoop so low.”

You hear Todo growling beside you. Not wanting the situation to escalate further, you say, “And what makes you think we aren’t a couple?” You link your arm around Todo’s, glaring at the asshole in front of you. 

“We’ve had reports from other fans saying they’ve seen you two at other events, just bickering and arguing with each other. Sometimes barely even speaking to each other.”

Todo snorts, snarling, “You guys are a bunch of nerds. I don’t give a shit what your ‘reports’ say. Stop harassing me and my girlfriend.” His use of the word “girlfriend” makes your heart skip a beat for some reason. Control yourself, woman! 

You tighten your grip on Todo’s arm and add, “Besides, you act like regular couples don’t fight and bicker. News flash: they do.”

“Well how come nobody has ever seen you kiss or hug like normal couples do?” Some of the guys behind him nod in agreement. 

Todo lets out an even louder snort and laughs. “Is this dude for real?”

This idiot was right on the money about you and Todo pretending to be in a relationship, but you would rather eat shit than admit it. At this point, you’ll do whatever it takes to convince these losers that you’re right and they’re wrong. If it’s a kiss they want, then so be it. 

You grip Todo by the collar and pull him down towards you. “If you perverts want to see a kiss, then fine. What do you say, baby?”

Todo seems taken aback by your sudden action. You desperately try to communicate to him telepathically. If you’re not cool with this, it’s okay, we don’t have to do it! But if you are, let’s prove these assholes wrong!

You see that familiar smirk on his lips as he says in that sexy low voice, “Yeah, let’s put on a show.” He leans down as you get on your tippy toes to close the gap. 

His lips are soft against yours. Not what you expected from a meathead like this. The kiss starts closed mouth, but then suddenly his tongue slide against your lips, begging for entrance. You part your lips just the tiniest bit to feel his tongue swirl around yours. You let out a small moan, involuntarily. 

You break the kiss immediately, Todo’s tongue still sticking out. His eyes are half-closed with a dazed look on his face. You turn away from him, face hot, and say to the crowd, “There. Are you losers happy? Now leave us alone.”

The group of men look at you, ashamed. You hear some of them grumble, “Sorry” as they turn to face away from you. The idiot who did the accusing grimaces at you, muttering, “Whatever.” What a fucking prick. 

With perfect timing, you see a black bus drive into the parking lot. Takada-Chan has arrived. 

You glance at Todo, who now has rosy cheeks. How cute. In a hushed voice, you say, “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know how else to get those bastards to leave us alone.”

He doesn’t say anything. You can tell he’s trying to find his words carefully. Not wanting to prolong this awkward silence, you say, “Let’s just enjoy this date with Takada-Chan, okay?” You grab his hand and lead him in front of the black bus, which has just parked. You fall in line behind the other fans, not wanting to see their annoying faces. Todo’s hand is still around yours. You’re basically holding hands. 

Peering up at him, you whisper, “What are you doing?”

He clears his throat and whispers back, “We have to keep acting like a couple, right? Couples hold hands.” 

You look at him with a bewildered expression, but don’t argue. He’s right. You have to keep this whole act going. For those idiot fans, for Takada-Chan. That’s all it is, right? Just an act.

You adjust your grip so that you are interlocking fingers. This is more convincing. It’s more intimate. His hold around you is firm, his hand massive compared to yours. Oh, the things he could do to you with these hands…

The door to the bus opens and a security guard pops their head out. There’s a clipboard in his hand, presumably to check the list of winners and confirm their identities. Each winner and their guest steps into the bus, one by one. You hear squeals of joy as each fan enters and Takada-Chan greets them. When it’s your turn, the guard, who you now recognize as the same one at the Handshake Event and Meet and Greet, looks at you and Todo holding hands. He smiles and says, “Go ahead.” He didn’t even check for your ID. 

As you set foot in the bus, you see purple mood lighting on the ceiling and hear Takada-Chan’s music playing through the speakers. The pop idol is seated at the far end in her own booth. Two security guards surround her. When she sees you and Todo, she jumps up with excitement and walks towards you. “You’re here! When I found out you were the one selected, I got so excited!” She gives you a warm hug, which you return with your free arm. Todo still has a steady hold of your hand. You expected him to let go as soon as he saw Takada-Chan, but surprisingly, his grip has not loosened one bit. 

“Todo! So glad to see you here with your girlfriend!” Takada-Chan gives him a one-armed hug, which he returns silently. 

You can’t help but wonder what’s going on in his head right now. 

Takada-Chan leans in closer to whisper to you, “I wish you two could sit next to me, but these other fans sat there first. We’ll catch up later.” She gives you one last smile and a wink as she walks back to her seat. 

You and Todo sit in the free spot closest to the entrance of the bus. It’s a bit cramped with the two of you sitting side by side. Suddenly, Todo lets go of your hand and swings it around your shoulders, pulling you in closer to his body. Maybe he thought this would be a more comfortable position. 

He feels like a giant teddy bear, except he’s rippling with hard muscle. You’re so close that every time you breath, you inhale his scent. He smells like clean linen and ocean breeze. You turn your head slowly to face him, and to your surprise, his gaze is already on you. 

~~~

When she turns to face him, Todo can’t help but stare down at her lips, hungrily. He wants to continue where they left off. He wants to kiss her again, taste more of her on his tongue, make her moan once more against his mouth. She’s so close to him, he can smell the intoxicating scent of the shampoo in her hair. He’s about to go feral if he doesn’t try to contain himself. 

He swore to himself he wouldn’t let anybody distract him from today. But he didn’t expect to kiss his pretend girlfriend in front of all those dweebs. He also didn’t expect to like it. And boy, did he like it. 

His arm is still wrapped around her, holding her close. She looks so good today, in her little purple dress. The neckline plunges just enough to tease him, leaving the rest to his imagination. Her collarbones are titillating, he wants to plant wet kisses all over, marking them as his. She wears a dainty gold necklace, giving her a look of innocence that seems to turn him on even more.

She stares at him with wide eyes. Her mouth is moving but isn’t paying attention to what she’s saying. All he can think about is how sweet her lips are. He just has to lean down a little bit closer to get a taste. 

“Hey Todo, are you listening to me?” She raises her voice, which awakens him from his trance. 

“Huh?”

“I asked you if you’re okay. You look out of it.” There’s genuine concern in her eyes. She’s so cute. 

He smirks. “Yeah, I’m great. Are you okay?”

She smiles softly and rests her head against his chest. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Fuck fuck fuck, she’s so fucking cute. 

After a while, she looks back up at him and says, “Whatever we’re doing, it’s working. Looks like those idiots aren’t even paying attention to us anymore. As long as Takada-Chan still thinks we’re a couple, we should be in the clear.”

His heart sinks. He responds with a simple hum as she lays her head back against his chest. This is all just part of their elaborate scheme to get the pop idol’s attention. It’s nothing more than an act, right?

The ride to the studio is only fifteen minutes. She spends the whole trip leaning on his body. He prays that she can’t hear or feel his heart racing in his chest. Todo glances over at Takada-Chan, who is chatting away with the fans closest to her. She looks adorable as usual, but something feels different today. Not with her, but with the way he looks at her.

Takada-Chan has always been a silly little fantasy. Now he sits here with an actual reality laying on his chest. Someone interesting, someone he respects, someone tangible. 

She’s better than a dream girl like Takada-Chan. She’s real. 

Todo likes her. That’s the conclusion he comes to. He doesn’t want this to be pretend anymore. He wants to hold her, kiss her, get to know her better. He wants all the aspects of being in a relationship without it all being part of an act. 

He knows she might not feel the same way. She still thinks it’s all for show. Tonight, he’ll tell her how he feels. If she doesn’t feel the same way, then they’ll end this strange arrangement they have and he’ll leave her alone forever. Will it crush him? Maybe. But Todo is strong. He always bounces back. Plus, he’ll always have Takada-Chan. 

He really, really hopes there’s a chance she feels the same way. He doesn’t want to go back to fantasy.

[piratefishmama]

Beware The Thorns | Part 1

(a NSFW multi-part ficlet)

“Who was that Eds?”

“Mind your business, shithead” Eddie pocketed his phone, he recognised the number the moment it flashed up on his work phone, a device he always had on him regardless of where he was, he could be at a FUNERAL, and he’d have that phone on him.

In this instance however, it was merely a family dinner. Well… family and the Henderson’s, so yeah. Family. He’d excused himself upstairs and answered as soon as he was out of earshot.

Evidently, he’d been followed.

“I heard you say you loved them… are you seeing someone?” Eddie tried really hard to not be insulted by his tone, a weird mixture of disturbed amazement, with just a dash of disbelief for flavour. Was it that much of a stretch to see him dating someone?

Was it that unbelievable to the person he’d practically grown up with, that he could find someone who’d like him?

Maybe it was. Didn’t mean he had to like it; his job had kept him away from actually… dating anyone.

“Maybe I am, again, mind your damn business.” Of course they didn’t know what he was, what he did to earn his money, he’d spun some lie years ago about an online business because ‘rockstar’ had to… actually have evidence, he had an actual legitimate website to keep the lie going, nothing ever really went through it, but… it worked to keep the questions at bay.

Nobody asked, and he didn’t tell, he was a grown ass adult, he didn’t NEED to tell anyone.

Dustin sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat, good… he’d have never gotten anything out of him anyway “fine, fine don’t tell me… don’t tell meee, your only brother.”

“We’re not even relat—”

“The best man at your future wedding.”

“Since when was I getting marri—”

“The Wan Kenobi to your Obi.”

“What the—”

“I am happy for you though, the both of you! I hope you’ll bring him home someday, I’m sure we’d all like to meet him” Eddie’s eyes widened… he’d never… fuck … he’d never said anyth— “What, you think you’re all crafty? C’mon Eddie, you can’t even sit normally.”

“The fuck has that got to do with anything?!”

“Y’know… gay people… they can’t sit properly… in chairs…? Is that wrong?” at least that proved that Dustin could be uncertain about some things.

“You’ve been on that stupid app again, haven’t you?” He had the decency to look guilty at the very least. “The fuck have I told you?”

“It’s dumb and addictive and I should stop, BUT IT’S HELPING ME LEARN!”

“It’s filling your head with bullshit! Fine, I’m gay, what the fuck ever. Go back downstairs for the love of all that is holy, and just give me a minute to process that you’ve been theorising my sexuality based on how I sit, and don’t you DARE tell anyone.”

“Oh, c’mon Eddie! You’re old enough to come out now, you have your own place, your own business! Plus, we all love you, no judgement here, this is a judgy free zone.”

“I will rip out your larynx and shove it up your ass if you even THINK of telling them.”

“But… how will you know if i’m thi—okay I won’t say anything, i wouldn't say anything. Not my place.” Eddie had levelled him with a look, a single, rage squint look, a look which promised imminent pain if he did not take his nosy ass and remove it from his presence, and he’d accepted that look for what it was. A promise.

Not just a threat.

“I’m gonna have to go early, my… my boyfriend, will be home tonight, the ridiculous idiot never has food in so I’m gonna go sort that out.”

“You’re buying his food for him? Eddie… that’s… he’s not just using you for money is he cause that’s really bad.”

“No dumbass, he’ll give it me back.”

“Right away?”

“YES, right away.”

“Not just promises he doesn’t intend to keep?”

“Dustin, I will brutally murder each and every one of your characters in graphic detail within five minutes of every campaign for the next year if you do not—”

“Okay!” Hands up in surrender, Dustin took a step backwards, a threat to his precious characters was no laughing matter, even if Eddie would struggle to make that kind of threat happen, the risk was there! He still had to ask “is… is he good though?” Of course, Eddie could threaten all he liked.

Dustin was his little brother, or as good as! It was his job to be insufferable.

The question however, made him think, he could pick any of them, any one of his clients to mould this imaginary boyfriend from, maybe mix and match, bring him to life from attributes of all of them, that’d be fine right? Nobody but Dustin really knew he was dating so… he wouldn’t be introducing them to him.

Perfectly coiffed brown hair… a warm smile… big, strong hands, a constellation of pretty moles dotted in places Eddie knew far too well. There was no amalgamation of faces, no mixture of personalities to make the perfect one, just a soft smile, warm hands, broad shoulders, muscle, and perfectly soft, thick brown hair… his favourite.

“Yeah… he’s… he’s great, Dustin… you’d like him” big strong softie he was, and it was so easy falling into the role of his boyfriend too, he’d been paying for that package for what felt like forever, he felt like he knew the man inside and out, like the back of his own hand.

He was the only one to have paid for that package continuously for over more than a few months, even Hagan only paid for it every now and then, never continuously. He thought Steve would have gotten tired of him by now but… It’d been two years.

Some people expected MARRIAGE after two years in a relationship.

Steve Harrington seemed to want him more and more by the day and the surprising thing, was that the thought didn’t invoke the same level of panic that he were SURE it would if anyone else were to have those wants, those needs of him.

He felt… comfortable with Steve, safe with him. Like he could show hints of himself, the real himself without the fear of losing him, of putting him off.

“You look so dopey smiling like that, y’know? You must really like him, huh?” He’d been smiling? Fuck… “Well… anyone who can make you smile like that just thinking about him is alright by me, I’ll cover for you, you can go sort his food out if you want.”

This was fine… totally completely fine. Would be better if Dustin could actually keep his mouth shut but alas. Dustin had a history of foot in mouthisms that'd gotten them into trouble after trouble after trouble years on the trot.

Eddie probably shouldn't have continued to tell him stuff, but that was his little brother so. He had to.

“Uh… yeah… yeah I like him. Thanks, I’ll… grab my coat, just tell em I feel sick or somethin so I’m goin home” he didn’t say goodbye, Dustin probably did that for him, just grabbed his coat and snuck out like he used to do as a teenager when he simply couldn’t be bothered dealing with his fathers drunk ranting about queers being put in cages.

He did have to come to one very unfortunate conclusion after that conversation though. After seeing Steve instead of a mishmash of faces, after being unable to put a random face to the title and spin it as truth.

Feelings were there. Real feelings. The mushy shit. The wants for more that he couldn’t have. The Pretty Woman syndrome without the corny and frankly rushed happy ending.

It couldn’t continue anymore, what he had with Steve had to end. Feelings… real feelings… he couldn’t have real feelings for his clients. It put his whole career on the line, his way of life gone in an instant all because his heart had to go all gooey for someone who probably didn’t even give a real fuck about him.

This was fine.

After the evening was done… he’d end it, terminate their contract. It was for the best. Steve deserved better than him anyway.

Part 3

[ilguna]

Could I get a piano session of "Suburban Legends" off of 1989 TV + Finnick Odair?

☼ suburban legends (Finnick Odair) ☼

warnings; swearing,

wc; 2k

prompt; Piano Sessions: Suburban Legends by Taylor Swift.

--

There is nothing that can save the sinking ship that is your relationship with Finnick.

A part of you knew that you would not make it through the summer when you started dating him in the spring. As much as you would have liked for it to be false, realistically everything began falling apart about a month in. If you had tried to fix it then, maybe this wouldn’t be happening, but instead you chose to wait.

You knew full well what was going on between him and Daniah, even before you’d started dating him. The lengths he’d go, the hoops he’d jump through—just to be able to see her for a few hours. He was so careful to hide it from you, coming up with these excuses that could never actually be feasible. 

You figured them out pretty quickly. And that should’ve been the deal breaker right there. You remember thinking it would be a better idea to end it than to continue to entertain him, or let him walk over you. If the thought of you being broken up didn’t hurt so much, you would’ve gone through with it, too.

You chose to forgive him, without ever telling him that you knew he was cheating. You wanted to initially, you spent nights rehearsing what you would say to him. You went through the phases of being angry, and then the sadness that came with it. While the infidelity would’ve taken the love out of anyone else, your heart beats for him.

Finnick is your best friend. Or rather, was. You trusted him, especially in moments that you never should have. He hasn’t done anything like that before, so you gave him the benefit of the doubt. Whereas, if it were any other boy in District Four, you wouldn’t have let it get this far. 

You never would have given them the light of day, but you handed it over to Finnick as if it didn’t mean anything to you. Lately, you’ve been blaming it on the magnetic pull that he possesses. He attracts a certain crowd, one that you shouldn’t classify in, but here you are anyway. 

Finnick is—for a lack of a better word—cool. He earned that title sometime after he won his Games, proving to the rest of the victors in Four that he was more than just a boy. He’s one of them. He deserves a place in their stupid hierarchy.

And he got it, of course. Why wouldn’t he? Finnick set the record for the youngest victor in history, one that likely won’t ever be broken again. In his first year of mentoring at fifteen, he brought you home. Which held the attention of the Capitol for the next two years, shadowing over you. He became one of the most important Darlings.

In District Four, Finnick became one of those victors that no one could get too close to without getting anxious. He had everyone wrapped around his finger, whether he wanted them or not. Which allowed him to fit right in with the victors that made the important decisions.

Despite the many attempts you’ve made to join them, they never had room for you. It didn’t matter who’s ass you kissed, if you went through a whole style change, or if you were suddenly popular in the Capitol. They didn’t want you, not until you started dating Finnick, which then got you a rite of passage.

It was a blessing and a curse after that. As you spent every waking moment trying to brag the same way they did. You dug up every secret that you’d been holding on to for special occasions just to impress Finnick. To get him to look at you the same starry-eyed way that he saw them.

The way he sees Daniah.

She’s everything that you’re not, you can see that now. She won a couple years after you did, when there was finally enough spotlight to share. She’s got the same air around her that Finnick does. They’re practically the same person, which must be why they get along so well.

But you know what they say, right? Opposites attract. They can teach each other new things, and give new opportunities. Even if they aren’t really meant to be together. Except, the only one benefitting in this situation is you, and it’s not even what you want.

You want Finnick. You want him to love you and no one else. Is that really too much to ask for?

“Are you enjoying the party?” A hand wraps around your waist, snaking to your stomach as Finnick pulls you back into him, leaning over your shoulder. “Because it looks like you’re planning an escape.”

It wouldn’t be the first time you came up with an excuse to get out of a house party like this. You don’t know why they insist on having one every weekend, they turn out to be the same as the party before. They aren’t even the talk of the district like they used to be.

“I’m having fun.” You ignore his comment, twisting in his arm to look at him.

Finnick’s curls are damn near perfect this evening, he must’ve washed his hair this afternoon to get them to look so good. Before you became his girlfriend, his bronze hair used to be a frizzy mess, unsure of how to take care of it. You taught him a different routine, and ever since, people can’t seem to keep their hands to themselves.

Neither can you.

You fix the few on his brow, he lifts a glass to his lips, tilting his head back to finish the cup. It’s likely a mixed drink, he told you earlier that he wasn’t feeling the classic drinks. It doesn’t seem like a big change, but to the people in this house, it will be.

Finnick reaches for a coaster with two of his fingers, placing it on the glass table before setting his cup on top of it. He then turns his attention to you, free hand cupping the side of your face, swaying with the music. There’s a small smile playing on his lips, gazing into your eyes.

With the two of you in your own bubble, you shift in a small circle. He holds you close to his chest, his hand rubbing your lower back. While your body begins to warm up with the love radiating off of him. How are you supposed to believe that he doesn’t want you too, when he does something like this without being prompted?

He leans forward, stealing the last of your space, lips coming for yours. You suck in a breath, wanting to dodge the kiss, because you know that it’s a bad idea. If you want to break up with him tonight, then you can’t push it. You can’t test your limits again.

It’s too late.

Finnick stops moving when his lips press into yours, wanting it to be soft, gentle. You can feel your heart skipping beats, excited that he’s touching you this way. And when he pulls back, your bones ache for more. You even catch yourself thinking that you could do this forever with him. Nothing has to change.

You could go to the Capitol together, hand in hand, showing everyone there that he’s yours. That you managed to catch the boy that they can’t get to stay. He wanted you, a girl that’s nothing like them or anyone that he surrounds himself with at home. A victor, but a lesser known one. One that doesn’t mind being quiet, one that’s fine with being overlooked. You would forget about everything else, including the way they treated you. 

But you can’t, and you won’t. 

“Finnick, we need to talk.” You tell him, hands loosening from his shirt. “And I’d rather do it in private.”

“Is everything okay?” He asks, face twisting with worry.

You press your lips together, which is telling enough to Finnick, because he takes your hand tightly to guide you through the packed house. This week, the party is being hosted at his place, which means that no matter where you go, the conversation won’t be interrupted. His people are too polite to go wandering and snooping where they shouldn’t.

He brings you upstairs, down the hall, and into his bedroom. He lets you step inside first, where you get an eyeful of his unkempt bed while he shuts the door. A bed that the two of you have shared. How many times has he brought Daniah here, too?

“Are you feeling alright?” Finnick asks, coming around.

You shake your head, “No, Finnick, I’m not.” You meet his eyes. “This isn’t working between us.”

His eyebrows twitch, his cocking to the side briefly before he straightens up. He breathes out a laugh, reaching for you. “What do you mean, (Y/n)?”

You avoid his hands, pushing them away. “I mean that we’re in two different places, and I am not what you’re looking for.” You watch his face smooth out, beginning to understand. “I don’t belong here.”

“You don’t have to belong here, (Y/n). Not as long as you’re with me.” He sighs. “And you are what I’m looking for. We wouldn’t be dating if I wasn’t.”

“Daniah.” Her name slips from your mouth before you can catch it. Finnick visibly pales. “Cayden, Sitara, Emrin.” You list. “Are they also not what you’re looking for?”

“They mean nothing to me, honey.”

“They mean enough, if you’re sneaking away to be with them everyday.” You hold up your hand. “I’ve already made up my mind. We’re finished.”

“I haven’t talked to them in a very long time.”

“A week is not a long time.” You point at him.

“Since we began dating in March?” He challenges. “I stopped.”

“You can’t lie to me, Finn. I’ve known this entire time. I’ve just been ignoring it because I couldn’t stand the idea of this ending.” You motion between the two of you. “But I’m over it now. I’m over the lying and the dodging and the stuffy parties.”

You back up for the door, hand reaching for the knob. Finnick is shaking his head, following after you. “You can’t just leave, (Y/n).”

“I am.” You tell him, stepping out.

“You’ll come back.” He tells you, and it’s not because he’s being confident. There’s a look in his eyes, “We’ll get back together. There’s something between us that won’t keep you away.”

He must know this is a chink in your armor, because you hesitate for a second. Does he think about you the same way? You shake your head, trying to rid the thoughts.

“I’m not coming back.”

You turn for the stairs, heading down them quickly. Thankfully, the door isn’t too far from the bottom step. You squeeze between the nicely dressed upper-class, passing the glass table with Finnick’s empty cup. Once you make it to the front door, you know that you’re safe, because he won’t risk chasing you out.

The warm summer air feels nice against your face. You leave the house, and when you swing the door shut, you lock your composure inside by accident. Unable to retrieve it, you let the tears build in your eyes as you leave Finnick’s porch, heading for your house a good number of feet down the sidewalk.

This was the right thing to do. You had to break up with him, because he never would have done it. He had himself convinced the same way that you did, he would have let the two of you drown if it meant you stayed together. As if he couldn’t stand the idea of hurting you.

For your sake, you hope that he’s not right. You don’t want to run back to him.

--

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

[sygneth]

Just a thought but let's stop for a moment and think about how Jean we see in the game is the worst version of himself, not his standard behavior, yes?

Like. He's been dealing with Harry's shit for a while now trying to keep him in line, excusing him to the captain and other precinct members, he's been cleaning his mess and all of this struggling with his own issues, just to hear that Harry "doesn't want to get better, he wants to get worse" and what Jean does is cramping his style and he should finally fuck off. When he comes back to Martinaise thinking that Harry's just playing his usual shit and tries to justify himself in the most stupid way, still being pissed for the fallout they had earlier (I mean, it's quite normal to be pissed after an argument, yeah) and then he finds out that no, Harry has really lost all his memory and doesn't remember shit. What makes him even more pissed, because, you know. You argue with somebody, you maybe expect an apology but you know you won't get it if you won't be the first to reach out, so you decide to do it anyway, and then you find out the other person doesn't remember what they did. And you're still pissed about that argument, and now also pissed, as you don't see any way of making up if they don't fucking remember and you don't really feel like explaining it to them, because you're still pissed. Well, it's not like there is no way, but for now, you're to mad to see it. You just wanted it to be over and you're stuck again.

Now let's add to this equation that one of the most important to him people don't recognize him and he cannot do anything about it. His boyfriend best friend doesn't remember him, at all. Something he didn't really expect when they argued and he left, probably thinking stuff like "this is so over" and "I don't want to know him anymore". (Careful what you wish, for, if you're unlucky enough, you may receive it). Sounds frustrating to me. Sounds like a very bad combination when you're already depressed and feel like shit yourself and deep inside you need someone, because you're a human and have human needs, but you get left with nothing.

Let's spice it up even more with the fact that Jean actually leaving Harry in Martinaise before the events from the game may suggest that some part of him noticed how unhealthy and mutually toxic their relationship was and that was an attempt of getting out of it, and not falling again into the same, old dependent patterns. And yet. If he didn't leave, there is a huge chance Harry wouldn't have drunk himself to oblivion. And well, it probably only adds to Jean being pissed and frustrated. Because if he didn't leave, he would be mad at himself for babysitting Harry once again and fixing his mess. And now he is mad at himself because he let Harry erase his memory. And being a Jamrock boy with no awareness and probably little connection to his own emotions he gets it out on Harry.

Oh yes, and half of the time he's probably really fucking anxious that someone will find out what has happened and they will all get dicked for it, possibly could even lose jobs, and while he wants to think it's all Harry's fault, it's actually their shared responsibility and he knows about it, so it only adds up.

So yeah, that was the worst week probably not only in Harry's life (but he's fortunate enough not to remember the worst part of it), but also in Jean's, and what we see is probably him acting in his worst possible way, as the sky has quite literally fallen onto his head. And I'm not saying it as "he's a real victim of the story". Many people are affected by Harry's behavior and many people are responsible for what happened, including Jean (and not only events from right before the game, but all the little mistakes and misunderstandings and unhealthy mechanisms they both with Harry got themselves into). Also, he's acting like an ass when he is angry and I'm not trying to deny it. I'm just noticing here that the narrative doesn't give us a representative sample of Jean Vicquemare, only the most shitty, pissed, frustrated, and anxious one.