#guys I’m so angry right now you don’t even know

[chukys-mouthguard]

I know youve probably been getting a ton of rempe request which I have to add to it too (I’m so sorry) but a good enemies to lovers with a bit of angst would be 😮‍💨

Party’s Over

Words: 3.49k

Featuring: matt rempe x female reader

Genre: angst, fluff; enemies to lovers

Summary: who the fuck invited matthew rempe to your birthday party?

“So, guess what Braden just told me.”

Your friend setting her phone down after reading a text from her boyfriend, an awkward smile on her face. “No, absolutely not, tell him no!”

Not needing her to even give the answer you were already fully aware of what Braden had said. But there was no way in hell you were okay with it.

“If those boys dare to bring Matthew Rempe to my apartment, they are going to get beers thrown in all of their faces!” She laughed as you pointed to the case of beers you were getting unboxed into an ice bucket for the guys to dig into once they arrived. The rest of the girls just silently munching on chips and queso as they all knew this saga between you and Rempe all too well. And as much as they would love for you to join the club and start dating a Ranger like the rest of them, they weren’t planning on that being Matt.

While you loved all of their boyfriends, the one Ranger you couldn’t stand was Matt Rempe. From the day you two met he had gone out of his way to be nothing but a dick to you. Constantly ragging on you, taking jokes too far, and now he was going to be in your apartment. No doubt any little action of his would piss you off to your maximum, simply because he was in your place.

“Look, it’s your birthday, I don’t think he will be an asshole to you today. Plus, they are already on their way here. What are they gonna do, throw him out of the car?” “Yes! That sounds like a great plan!” Rolling your eyes you finished setting up the appetizers and drinks before the guys arrived.

“Hello hello? We heard there’s a birthday going on?” Vinny Trochek called out before the boys filed into your apartment, each of them with a significant other soon joining them, the few single guys and girls introducing themselves as everyone was grabbing drinks and getting food.

You had greeted everyone but were also too preoccupied with being a host, in hopes that it would distract you from how angry you were with Matt being in your apartment.

“Y/n…it’s your party and you’re making drinks for people. What the fuck? Go drink, mingle.” Braden’s girlfriend quick to take the bottle of Tito’s from your hand and push you toward the kitchen island, your sudden presence stopping a conversation between Matt and Chris Kreider. “Oh I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?” You glared at Matt, your tone a bit harsh as he sipped his beer. “Actually yeah, Matt was just saying how good you look tonight.”

Shaking his head in protest, Matt quickly swallowed down his beer, “more like the opposite. I said no such thing, don’t flatter yourself.” He smirked at you while Chris just shook his head, hating the constant immature bickering between the two of you.

“How about, you take that beer bottle, and show it up your ass Rempe? I think that would be such a fun party trick.” Flashing a fake smile you quickly left the kitchen, heading to your bedroom to cool off.

Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you began to second guess your outfit.

knock knock

“Y/n, what’s up? Chris said you stormed off after Matt made some smartass comment. Are you okay?”

“Do I look okay? Like, should I be wearing something different?” Chris’s wife Francesca rolling her eyes as she took a seat on your bed. “Really? Rempe said shit about your outfit and now you want to change? Have you ever thought that maybe the two of you just need to fuck and get it over with or something? I really think this whole act you’ve got going on needs to stop.”

Ignoring her comments completely, you went right to your closet, pulling out a white short sleeved bodysuit and a new pair of jeans. Quickly pulling them on and then pairing them with some heeled black boots.

“Okay, thoughts?”

Francesca lightly chuckling at how self conscious you’d become the second Matt said anything negative about how you looked. “I mean, you look hot as fuck. But, I feel like you’re trying to look good for him now.”

“Don’t be silly, I’m simply just trying to look hot and make him eat his words. And if the boy starts drooling about my tits practically being on display, that’s his problem not mine. Now let’s go do a shot!”

After you reappeared from your bedroom, newly clothed, you couldn’t help but notice how Matt’s demeanor had changed. He kept his distance and didn’t say a word to you. Though he didn’t have to, his eyes on you almost constantly and you were happy to know he was eating his words.

Three rounds of shots later, everyone was piling into Uber’s to head out, of course everyone finding it funny to put you and Matt in the same car, as well as make you both sit in the back seat together. Keeping your back somewhat to him, you tried to not as much as bump him with an arm or a leg, though his hand had tapped you multiple times as his arm was draped across the back on the seat.

Once at your destination you quickly pulled out your lip gloss and turned on your front camera to aid in your application.

“You know, I never understood the point of lip gloss. Like, it’s just gonna come off on your drinks or when you kiss someone.”

Matt practically whispered in your ear as he peeked his face into the view of your camera, making you roll your eyes. “Yeah well,” turning to face him, you hadn’t noticed how close his face was to yours, causing you to swallow a breath, “guess you’re in luck, I definitely won't be kissing you tonight.”

The group headed inside the club, having a table reserved at the back as to hopefully not draw too much attention having a handful of the Rangers with you. Everyone getting comfortable and situated with drinks as you threw back a few shots to erase the backseat interaction with Matt from your mind. This was your birthday, you were not going to let that cocky asshole ruin it.

The night had so far consisted of Vinny Trocheck getting so drunk he attempted to dance shirtless in your section, Chris and Matt competing to see who could chug their beers the fastest, and you losing track of just how many drinks and shots you’d had. But one thing you knew for sure was that you were about to pee your pants.

“I’ll be right back, bathroom.”

Slowly making your way through the crowd by yourself, Matt’s eyes followed you, making sure you made it to your destination. “Dude, cut the shit. This tough guy act, being dick to her. It’s not working for you.” Matt scoffed, taking a sip of his beer, “Krieds, I have no clue what you’re talking about.” He tried denying it, but Chris could see exactly what Matt thought he was doing. And despite his efforts, majority of the guys could see right through him. “All I’m saying is, for someone who dislikes her so much, you sure do care a lot making sure she made it to the bathroom safely.”

“Look, there’s a difference between me not liking the girl but knowing how to be a decent human being. Should I want her to not make it safely? Gosh Krieds now you sound like the asshole.” Matt attempted to put an end to the conversation, turning away from Chris, though keeping an eye on the bathroom.

After what felt like a thirty minute wait, you were able to evade peeing your pants in public and were headed back to your party. Though not before a drunk guy could try and creep on you, immediately making you remember why you didn’t go out to clubs anymore.

“Hey beautiful, you here alone?”

“Nope, actually here with friends.” Flashing a soft smile you attempted to brush past him in the hall, but he moved with you. “Oh, so you’re the one celebrating a birthday. How about I get you a drink?” Again flashing a smile you shook your head, “no thank you, we are stocked on drinks. I’m good.” The drunken man catching up to you as you could barely maneuver your way through the crowd. His hand snaking around your waist as he pulled you into him. “How about more than just a drink then?”

Immediately pushing against his chest to get out of his grip, you questioned the man but he didn’t let go. However soon enough, another arm reaching around to pull you free, to which you were surprised. Ready to thank the individual who likely saw the event and stepped in, until you saw the face of Matt Rempe appear next to you.

“Pretty sure that’s not any way to treat a lady. You wanna tell me why you put your hands on her?” Rolling your eyes you didn’t bother to stick around for Matt to be the hero and ask for your praises. Matt noticed you run off, but made sure the drunken man wouldn’t cause any more trouble for the night. Heading back to the table and immediately downing a shot before asking your friends to dance.

It was now 2am and you were down for the count, not able to hold your head up and just wanting food and your bed. Your friends helping you to your uber as everyone was more than happy to head home for the night. None of them partying like this in awhile and already anticipating the hangovers that were on the horizon.

“Okay, so as much as I want to take y/n up to her bed, I’ve got to get Chris home before he’s knocked out and I can’t deal with him alone.”

Francesca doing her best to keep Chris awake next to her as you were in the back seat once again with Matt, though you were oblivious to that as you were asleep with your head on his shoulder. “I can take her.”

Francesca a bit shocked at Matt’s offer to help. “You sure you’re not just gonna take her up there and draw on her face or something to mess with her?”

“Oh come on, I’m not that much of an asshole.”

Matt laughed, shaking his head as he looked down at you sleeping.

“Y/n…Y/n, wake up. We are back at your apartment.” Your eyes slowly fluttered open as Matt was attempting to help you out of the Uber. “I can do it myself.” Pulling your arm away from him as you were adamant about getting yourself inside, though only stumbling up the sidewalk and practically breaking your ankle in the process. “Y/n, just let Matt help you please. I gotta get Chris home before he’s sleeping on the street tonight. Stop hating him long enough for him to get you into bed.”

“I will never let this man get me into his bed!”

Francesca shaking her head with a sigh, “that is not what I meant, Jesus Christ…Matt, please let me know if you need anything. But I gotta get this man home.”

Matt laughed as Francesca guided a drunken Chris to their car, knowing that he would never let him live down this moment of being carried by his wife because he couldn’t hold his alcohol.

“Alright, let’s get this over with.”

Matt put a hand to your lower back as he helped guide you inside, trying his best to keep his distance so as to not upset you any more than he already had. The ride in the elevator was silent as you just stared at the numbers slowly counting up until you had reached your floor. Doing your best to walk to the door without issue, though now you were in for it as you tried to fumble with your keys and unlock it.

“Can I-” “No, I got it.”

Quickly opening the door you tossed your bag on the counter, soon collapsing on your couch. Not caring that the walk to your bed would have been only sixty seconds more, you needed to be horizontal and not in these boots any longer. Trying your best to kick off the boots, but having no luck, Matt soon came over to help. Your need for the boots to be off stronger than your want to be Miss Independent.

“I guess I will get you some water, heat up some of the food from earlier…”

His voice trailed off as he walked to the kitchen, your eyes opening to watch him. Why was he being nice all of a sudden? You didn’t like it, after he had made it his mission to be an asshole, all of a sudden he starts trying to be nice? He was clearly trying to get something out of you, praises or thanks for stepping up and taking care of you. Most likely to rub it in your face later and laugh at you for thinking he was a changed man or something.

“I don’t need your help, you know. I can do all of that myself.”

Matt just ignored you, continuing with making you a plate of food before he brought it over to you on the couch. He smiled softly as he held out the plate, and as much as you were starving, you couldn’t bring yourself to accept anything from him. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

He looked at you confused before setting the plate on the island in the kitchen. “Pretending like you care! Trying to be some hero and swoop in to save the day. You know what your problem is?”

“What’s my problem?” He leaned against the island, crossing his arms as he let you continue with airing your frustrations.

“You think that anyone is going to fall head over heels for you and just give you everything you want. You’re so full of yourself. And then, the second a girl doesn’t fold for you, you treat her like shit, like how you did with me. Do you know how annoying it is? Being friends with all those guys, and you’re the only one who hates me? Who talks shit about me, bashing me whenever he can? I fucking changed my outfit tonight because you made me feel like shit about myself! And for what? Because I didn’t drop my pants for you the first day we met or something? Get a fucking grip, and stop thinking so highly of yourself. I didn’t need your help at the bar, and I don’t need your help now if you’re only doing it to hold over my head later or try to use it against me. I don’t need you trying to embarrass me for ever thinking you were actually a nice guy and gave a shit. So if you’re only doing this to look good to everyone else, then please leave.”

You stomped off to your room to change, needing your jeans off and sweats on. Removing your bodysuit and replacing it with a hoodie, a deep sigh leaving your lips as you pulled the fabric over your head.

knock knock

“What!”

Glaring towards the door you saw Matt slowly appear from behind the frame. His demeanor a bit defeated as he tossed a small box onto your bed. “Here.…happy birthday. I’ll call an Uber then head out.”

Your angered facade fading as you looked from Matt to the small box on your bed. Only moving to open it once you’d heard him head back down the hall. As you untied the blue ribbon, you lifted the lid to reveal a beautiful necklace of your birthstone that you had been eyeing for months. Instantly your heart sank, regretting all the words you just spat at him. But, you weren’t actually feeling bad for Matt, or regretting something negative you said to him, you couldn’t. Because you were supposed to hate each other. Though this was an expensive ass gift for someone to buy if they hated you.

Setting the necklace down on your dresser, you darted out of your room and down the hall. Stopping in your tracks when you saw Matt still in your kitchen. “Sorry, I’m leaving, it's just raining and I figured I’d wait until my Uber got closer. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

He went back to his phone as you could tell he was embarrassed and upset. Clearly this not being how he planned for the night to go, and you shared in the embarrassment for all the things you’d just said.

“Matt….how did you?”

Playing with the hem of your hoodie you awkwardly closed the distance between the two of you, eventually resting on your forearms against your kitchen island.

“Francesca told me you’d been eyeing it for months. I asked what was something I could you for your birthday, I wanted it to be something nice, special. But, clearly I fucked that up because I’m such an asshole.”

He wasn’t even making eye contact, his voice low as he mumbled his responses, shrugging it off like it was nothing. But it was clearly something.

“I just, I don’t get it…why get me such a nice, thoughtful, expensive gift. If you hate me?”

Matt laughed, finally looking up from his phone. “You really don’t get it do you? I don’t hate you y/n, it’s actually quite the opposite. When Chris told you earlier I was talking about how good you looked, he wasn’t lying. I really did think you looked good. And I felt awful when you went and changed clothes. I mean, you still looked hot as hell, but I felt bad that you thought I really didn’t think you looked good.”

He locked his phone and set it on the island as he made his way over to you.

“I acted that way because I've never met a girl like you. For starters, you never seemed interested in me, and I didn’t know how to take that. You were hard to read, and I thought if I messed with you, I would learn your personality. But you only dished shit right back at me just as I gave it. So I thought you weren’t interested and truly did not like me. Not to mention, coming into this group of people, when everyone is close already. I was trying my best to fit in, but I’m awkward okay? I wanted you to like me, and I fucked that up, clearly!”

You laughed along with him as he ran a hand through his hair. “And, I thought tonight I would fix things. I’d be able to give you that gift, and apologize for all the shit I started. But then, you got so mad at me when I tried helping at the club. And then when we got back here, I know I brought it on myself with being such a dick. But, I figured, there was zero chance I even got to make this right.”

“Well…” You sighed as you walked closer to him, your brain still trying to make sense of all this. “How about we start over? Blank slate, and we can forget everything. Stop this pretending like we hate one another and just be ourselves?”

Holding out your hand, Matt smiled before accepting and shaking it. “I’m Matt.” “I’m y/n.”

The two of you chuckled to yourselves, soon moving to the couch after you’d reheated the food Matt got for you which was now cold.

“Oh, um, aren’t you gonna cancel your Uber?”

Matt looked at you with a sheepish grin, “I never called an Uber.”

Your jaw dropping to the floor as you punched his shoulder. “Oh, so somehow you just magically thought things were going to work out and we’d be sitting right here on this couch? You thought you could easily just win me over and get a second chance with me? Matthew Rempe I swear to-”

Before you could finish your threat, Matt had placed his lips on yours, cutting you off with a kiss. Though shocked by the action, you didn’t fight it. Relaxing into the kiss before he pulled away.

“I just figured, with that gift I got you we were a little past first introductions.”

“You know, you’re lucky your cute Matthew Rempe…”

“Oh, so you do think I’m cute? I knew it!” He shot you a cocky grin as he dipped a chip in some queso. “We still have plenty of beer bottles, don’t make me bash you on the head with one.”

“Sweetheart, I get punched in the face on almost a nightly basis, I think I could handle a little beer bottle.”

[ticktockheartstop]

I just find it sooo interesting how Charles chooses to kiss Crystal after the most emotional day in Port Townsend so far. Let’s review:

1. Charles is clearly jealous of Monty and Edwin at the beginning of the episode: “You? Him? Spending a lot of time?” (Whether this is platonic or romantic jealousy, I’ll leave that up to you… though I definitely have thoughts.)

2. Edwin is really trying, for maybe the first time ever, to comfort Charles and get him to open up (because the Devlin case in the previous episode made him realize that Charles has major walls up). Edwin paying, even slightly, is definitely a new, potentially kinda scary thing for Charles.

3. Crystal is really concerned about Charles and not afraid to hide it, and it’s clearly irritating him. So much so that he nearly snaps at her — which he never does to her — and he stops himself, only to say, “As long as I’ve got my best mate and a case to solve, I’m good.” *pause* “I appreciate you. But leave it, yeah?” I just think it’s really significant that Charles didn’t say “as long as I’ve got you guys” or “my mates” or “you and my best mate.” Crystal was a hit of an afterthought, I think.

4. Charles tells Edwin off for not telling him about the Cat King, so much so that Edwin feels the need to say: “I don’t understand why you’re so angry.” Charles is clearly not in the best mood, not thrilled about the case they’re facing, and not thrilled about his “best mate” hiding things from him.

5. Charles nearly watches Crystal jump to her death, and it wasn’t even him who saved her. It was Niko. He looks the most devastated of all of them, and then gives her that big speech of how important it is for her to know that jumping isn’t worth it, because it’s not actually her mom, no matter what it feels like. And she basically tells him he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, because she knows her mom wants to see her.

6. Charles is so jealous, watching Monty flirt with Edwin as he’s stuck digging through a dumpster.

7. Let’s just be clear on one thing: Crystal was the first to “attack” the Night Nurse, even if she tried to do it psychically instead of physically, and no one bats an eye. But then, when Charles gets violent with her after she threatens to take Edwin back to hell and makes him relive all his trauma, all while basically teasing him, everyone FLIPS OUT about him attacking her. It’s honestly kind of unfair, and I’d lose it too if my friends looked at me like that.

8. Charles really loses it for the first time (maybe ever in front of Edwin). He feels like he can’t help Crystal with her problems, and he can’t get Edwin to be honest about what’s going on in his head, so he definitely can’t help him, and it’s heartbreaking. But the real kicker is that the only one who steps up to try to comfort him in that moment is Edwin, because the others are still stunned by his outburst. But Charles flinches away from his touch, because he can’t fathom how anyone could love him or want to be near him in that moment.

8. If that wasn’t enough, as they leave the lighthouse, Crystal is staring at him with major concern. For obvious reasons. But I relate to Charles in the way that that look would drive me CRAZY, and I think it’s so important that later, when offering an understanding ear, Edwin doesn’t let Charles see the scope of his concern for him. That’s why I think Charles responds more politely to his offer to talk to him if he ever needs it.

9. Slightly out of chronological order here, but before going into their respective rooms, Niko says, “I think I’m going to go do something where I don’t have to think now.” And Crystal says, “Yeah, I’m with you.” … and then she goes and makes out with Charles.

10. Idk, it just seems a bit self-destructive of Charles to go make out with a girl right after she says that, and to kiss her for the first time right after she says “I just want something that’s real.” After he spent the whole day being jealous about Edwin spending time with Monty, and keeping a meeting with the Cat King from him, and after Charles lost his mind (understandably). Like, this is not the time to make romantic decisions! This can only end with someone getting hurt.

[keelt9]

Chapter 5

Masterlist

“Could…Could you at least keep your location on?” Mía is at the verge of frustration, but I try to keep it calm. The last thing she told me, probably helps her to realize what it feels like to be an older one.

That happens 20 minutes after I start my animated discussion with the big guy. He is right but I am asking for an act of mercy.

“Miss, I’m sorry, but…” I’m already red with desperation.

“Sir, please, please, just once, call her and she will know what to do!” Thankfully there wasn’t anyone nearby, one more time I arrived extremely late.

“Lad…” His new rejection pulled my last attempt. I didn't travel for more than 7 hours as I heard my little sister complain about my squandering without even telling her a reasonable reason.

I close my eyes and beg with my hands. “Sir, just one time, anyone in the paddock, I’m really, really, playing something huge here, I’m not lying to say this can cost me… more than I’m imagining right now.” 

“You should think before spended it.” I open my eyes, my hands still sticking together.

“I’m not talking about money.”

I don’t know if it was the conviction in my voice or a miracle, but he grabs his radio and calls for Violet of the media team in Red Bull. I don’t have anything more to do just sit on the ground hoping for the second part of the miracle.

“Do you want me to call for a paramedic?” I didn't get it at first but then I remember I have a red kinesiology tape from my shoulder up to the back of my neck; Anton put it on me before “send me home” for rest.

“Oh, no I’m fine, I already take my painkillers.” It’s not for causing pity, it’s the truth.

“You came here not knowing if you even will enter; correct me if I’m wrong, with a neck injury?” Now he wants to talk.

“Shoulder injury, and yeah, I take the risk. “ He bluffs looking at me like the first time I stand in front of him, with incredulity. “Because it's totally worth it.”

“OMG Y/N, what are you doing here?” Violet appears breathless as she takes out her cellphone looking for something. “Please don’t tell me Max was waiting for you?” 

I chuckle probably the last time Max wasn’t that happy that no one could find me. “Oh no, no, it’s the opposite.” 

“It’s ok, she can come in, I’ll give her a pass.” The big guy nodded and opened the door for me to get inside.

“Hey, girl!” He screams when we start to walk, this time in his eyes I see acknowledgement. “Take care of that shoulder, all right?” 

I told Violet my journey, my spontaneous plan, my arriving here without warning and my almost useless attempt to contact her without having a clue of her full name, and my new friend. I omit the fact I haven't replay any of the texts from Max since Saturday morning, and the missing calls.

“OH! I see, I see, I can help you with that.” Violet walked with me to the stands, where family and friends of the pilots could see the race without problem. 

The experience was probably what Max expected I got through when he invited me to Silverston. I was able to see the race really close; with 10 laps remaining, I stood and walked back to a similar room where Max gave me the T-Shirt. Max celebate like nothing happened. I watch all the ceremony from the T.V in the room, waiting twisting my fingers in my hands.

“How could you not know where I left it?” I hear clearly angry Max. “I left it next to the bottle.” I walked slowly standing in the corner next to the entrance where he couldn’t see me so easily.

“We’ll look for it Max, take it easy.” They are coming closer.

“Or I could go and do it myself, I bet the person inside can wait a couple of minutes.” I imagine him with lethal eyes in his face.

“I don’t think the person inside is the person you want to make her wait.” This time I recognized Violet's voice. “Lisent Max, go and then you can look for your cell phone, for christ sake.” She’s clearly done with him.

He enters head down and moves it side to side, annoying but obedient like a few times; he switches his mood to a polite one but when he doesn't see anyone he opens his arms and lets it fall with a hard sound. No one else follows him.

“See, no one, now if you let me…” He speaks as he turns but in the middle of it, he sees me smiling big at him.

We both walk faster, he hugs me, both of his arms around my neck, the last thing I saw before closing my eyes is a wide open smile on his face.

“OMG! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” He speaks as he buried his face on my neck, I rub his back as I giggle, I never get used to this comfy sensation.

“Surprise.” He splits and touches softly with his fingers my chin, where probably the scar that forms the bowstring stains in a line, red wine color.

“Why…where…how do you get in here?” He asked me as pull me closer.

“You must give me credit for this, please, it wasn't easy, at all.” I grab his cap which is about to fall from his head.

“For sure. This is great, amazing… You are amazing, still do you know how nervous I was for not replying to any of my texts or calls?” I hear his question as he splits, rushing his words. I give him a peck on his cheek, like he said I recharge him.

This time he blushes, a red pop of color in his face.

We start to talk, he quickly understands I really don’t want to talk about how the examination goes so he keeps explaining to me things I still don’t understand from the race, but when we reach the garage I see media people from Red Bull quickly surround him.

The mere fact of flashes and voices whispering out loud causes a flashback in my mind. The incessant questions, just predicting the worst scenarios, others remember I’m leaving my team in the middle of a huge competition, didn't leave me breath. 

I feel a cold sweat, the need to run away appears one more time. “I’ll see you later all right?” 

Max knew that stopping a girl in the garage surrounded by cameras and reporters giving something to talk about is the last thing we need; so he nodded and walked where GP is talking with Christian, still I know that conflicted eyes.

I see Violet talking far away from the cameras with other girls, before I leave I need to thank her “Thanks Violet.” I hugged her and she did the same. 

“Any time Y/N now you have my phone for anything you need.” I assent and walk with one thing in mind, leave.

My steps were automatic as I reached the exit texting Mia; I’ll spend the night here and I will take a plane back home tomorrow morning. 

“Go back home safe, girl!” The big guy screams when he sees me walking through the door, I smile at him and wave my hand. I definitely made a new friend.

In the hotel I heard all the telling from Mia, even though I hate to admit she is right, I act reckless after a big meeting.

Mia takes a deep breath and calms her down. “And now you are in the hotel alone, that’s what makes me more angry, who think he is?” I already told her all the story. If I want peace, this is the kind of things I hope she understands.

“Oh come on Mia! I came here without a heads up, I knew he would have tons of things to do.” Through a video call it is clear to see her exasperation. “Besides, I’m the one who ran away.”

Literally.

“Whatever. Make sure to get home safe ok?” Even after her anger Mia moves me with her corner.

“I’ll do it mom” Mia laughs and wishes me good night. 

I replay the last text of Max apologizing for not being able to have dinner with me, but he already has scheduled a dinner with Charles and Lando; after that I fell asleep so quickly that the only thing that woke me up was my alarm, buzzing on my hand.

I reserve my flight as the first thing in the morning, I grab the bag I pack and run out of the room, no bother in reading the message I have. 

Thankfully Anton is already rescheduled for Tuesday morning, that means I have a free Monday, giving time to do my weekend activities, go to the grocery store, keep me updated with my morning runs and cleaning the apartment.  

Max told me he will make up with me, as soon as he arrives in Milton Keynes and I keep saying it’s ok, I saw him, that was the main point of my little travel.

A week later, Monday morning starts with a run through the hallways when I see Anton’s text telling me we will be working in the space he arranged when the coaches came. But when I enter a strong boom and color papers fly in front of me, scare me.

“OH SHIT!” I dropped my phone, I heard the sound of familiar laughs that made my heart beat like crazy.

I see them, Olivia, Charlotte, and Rachel, my team with party hats and Olivia holding a cake, counting until 3 and starting to sing “Happy birthday.” 

“OMG! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?! In a single hug I practically forced Liam to catch the cake in the air. 

“What do you mean? Happy birthday!” Charlotte says still sticking to my side. She is the youngest of the team, she resembles Mia a lot. 

“Well, getting ahead a couple of days before your birthday.” Oliva, the team leader and the older of us, corrected her. She was right, my birthday will be in a week.

“Oh, but that’s not all.” Rachel, the brave girl who stepped up when I got injured a year ago, covers my eyes and turns me around. 

“Tadaaa!!” They scream as she removes her hands.

“THERE IS NOT FUCKING WAY!” I scream as I run where Matthew is waiting for me with open arms, he carefully holds me arms around my waist, shaking me from side to side, an old habit we had.

Matthew is my best friend and my partner in all the duplet competitions, we met when we were 7 years old in our first days of training in a more professional way, the bond we made was quick and became stronger year by year. Marie Anne calls us the gold coins, I can proudly say in all these years we have a modest amount of 10 gold medals as a team.

“LOOK AT YOU!” We walk back to reunite with the girls. “You look amazing!” He passed his arms around my shoulder pulling me closer. 

“I’m amazing.” It’s incredible having them here, it feels like being at home one more time.

They explained to me, they made a quick stop before going to Antalya for the competition, and they refused to let me pass my birthday alone. After my face was covered with chocolate from the cake and we sat down to eat, I introduced them properly to Anton, bragging a little bit about our achievements. After a while Liam and Anton offer to go and buy something to eat, leaving us alone for a while. 

That gave me time to explain what the coaches told me. Robert recognised my technique and my pression but his concern about the resistance on my shoulder in the long term. Marie Anne, who is actually Matt’s coach, told me it’s a notorious recovery still she is unsure a year is enough time for avoiding a reinjury. Will has two petitions, he needs my shoulder to be stronger and keep in physiotherapy at least 3 months more and they come for evaluating me, one more time.

“We imagined that from Will but that was a little bit harsh from Marie Anne.” Charlotte says, taking a sip of her bottle.

“I’ll give you 2.” Olivia said, patting my head. “In two months you will get that.” 

Liam and Anton arrive a couple of minutes later with some sandwiches and sodas. “Don’t tell your coaches I’m giving you these.” Liam laughing clearly for me didn't mean a problem but they will have a competition in 3 days.

“Please kids, go and wash your hands.” Anton says as he searches for cups. 

The team told us they will leave tomorrow night, that gives us a whole day. They give me full attention, and help me to practice some shoots. They mentioned things I wasn't doing right either because I let it pass or I'm still unsure of my shoulder. Anton and Liam let us go early with a new surprise; Charlotte already has scheduled a dinner in a nice restaurant. 

In the dinner we spoke about the training, funny moments, how good some teams are this year and the challenge that represents for Rachel switching Compound Arch for Recurved Arch. One more time I feel part of a world I love.

Early in the morning they insisted on making breakfast, just they didn't know I usually don't have breakfast at home so I ran out of morning supplies. “Ok, ok, I'll go with you.” Matt and I were walking to the nearest store, 8 blocks away.

���Max was great, I mean running in his home must be exciting” He distracted me on purpose because I didn't notice those words until I answered.

“You have no idea, still the weather was kind of tricky.” My words came naturally as I opened a bag of bread. “Fuck!”

Matt makes my arm tingle in his arm. “Yeah, I see you.” The panic on my expression made him continue. “Don't worry, no one else knows that, I’ll see you in one of the many photos a random person takes.” 

Matthew used to date a girl who is a huge fan of F1. “I thought you already got over that phase.” They broke up 9 months ago.

“You're turning this to me, clever girl.” As we walk he lends his head over mine. “Just be careful, ok? Next year we'll have a big target to hit, don't feel pressured, but…” 

I feel his breathing going slowly. “We need you there, I mean I can carry this federation on my own.”

That makes me laugh. “Ok I get it, I get it.” Slowly I open the new jar of Nutella we just bought. “He is number one too, believe me, I’m focused on being just with the best.” I covered his nose with chocolate and ran back home.

As they say, they left at night, not before Liam at the request of their coaches put them through a hard training, he said, they’ll be able to sleep like babies in the plane. 

“Take care ok?” Olivia hugs me so tight, but carefully not pressing my shoulder too much. “We came back and got you out here, promise.” I nod and the younger girls do the same.

“Love you. Don’t take my words the wrong way, I’m just worried.” Matt kissed the top of my head. 

After we saw the plane lifting from the ground Liam took me home so I can rest, he said; I quote. <Big changes tomorrow.>

I totally forgot my last text to Max was yesterday at night, he must be busy because he didn’t even read it. 

<That’s great honey! Rest, love you!> I can hear the excitement of dad after Liam sent him the video of me practicing some shots, almost perfectly.

At the hour Max and I usually talk I prepare for calling him when someone knocks the door, twice.

“You forget the ke…” I open the door thinkin Liam was at the other side but the soft light of a candle in a dark hallway calls my attention.

“Happy birthday.” I raise my sight from the small cupcake.

“Amm, thanks but…” I barely can contain my smile. “It’s not my birthday.” 

Max now was clearly speechless. “What? But…but… I see the cake, the hugs and kisses.”

“Oh.” He rushes to his answer. 

“I mean, I was passing by and it’s almost impossible not to see the flying color papers, the big letters, the cake, strange persons, a guy kissing you.” He is so cute.

“I already told you about Matty.” He bluffs, rolling his eyes. 

“Matty?! Yeah you talked about Matthew.” I am fighting for the urge to touch him.

“Are you mad or are you jealous?” He opened his eyes round as plate while I take the cupcake, blowing out the candle, or the wax will burn his fingers

“What, what? Why… Wh…Why I be?” He’s a shuttering. He is jealous, it’s funny how much this buzz could make me feel happy, maybe, just maybe he felt the same as I feel for him. 

“Let me think for more than a second.” I bite the cupcake, red velvet, my favorite. 

I’m lost one more time in his words, this time I couldn't avoid laughing. “Max, what are you talking about?” 

“OF COURSE I’M JEALOUS! Come on! Your teammates come out of the blue, and yeah, I get, it is or it will be or it was your birthday and he even gets you to laugh like that, looking so happy, I feel so so so… watching from far away .” He didn’t even realize but he just caged both of his hands at the side of head. 

I’m trapped inside the apartment, against the wall. Max is so close to me.

I grip his jacket and pull him to press my lips against his cheek. “You make me feel like my birthday is every day, you don't need to know the specific date to make me feel, and laugh like that.” He can splits still he keeps his face a few cm of my face, I smile at him. 

Suddenly he lost his words. “You stain us with whipped cream.” He looks and smiles shyly, letting down his head, carefully resting on my shoulder, both of us laughing.

“Now could I move, go and prepare something for dinner, I’m hungry.” He smiles and lets down his arms.

“I’ll order something.” He took out his cellphone clearly embarrassed for his lack of control a few seconds ago. This time I stand on my tip toes, kissing the corner of his lips. 

The cherry color in his face turns strawberry pink and that blue eye gives the perfect contrast.

[justmeinadaze]

My Little Man Part 2 (Steddie X You)(Part of the HFOD and SS AU)

A/N: Took awhile to get through this because it made me feel things lol but I'm excited for the next chapter because I know what I want to do smut wise which will involve some slight role-play. ;).

Warning: Demon Steddie/ Human Fem Y/N, Smut but light, dirty talk, FLUFF, they love each other and their son. ANGST ABOUND!

Fall out from the last chapter, boys fight about it, Y/N suggests they go back to a certain realm to deal with certain things, details of both demons abuse is expanded on including Eddie's dad being physically violent and Steve's father being verbally a dick (so child abuse trigger for sure), Mentions of sick parents (I never gave either of her parents a diagnoses nor did I give them specific systems that allude to anything), mentions of talking care of a sick parent. I think that's it.

Word Count: 5131

First 2 Series and Last Chapter Here/ Donate to Me :)

Eddie growls as you fall through the portal, swatting away the other demon’s hands as he bends down to try and help you to your feet. 

“Where are we?”

“Oblivion.”, Steve whispers as he backs away from you both. 

“Why would a realm like this even exist?”

“It’s not uncommon to have ‘dead’ realms. This one is just most known because of its strength.”

“Strength?”

“If all realms collapsed, this is the only one that would remain standing.”

You jumped at the sound of Eddie’s wings expanding as he flew forward and tackled Steve off his feet, watching as they rolled onto the floor and began to wrestle. Neither demon said a thing as they delivered blow after blow occasionally flying over your head before falling to the ground. 

After a while, you found yourself getting annoyed as nothing was progressing. You understand this may be how they handled things back home but even you knew Eddie was so angry that this wouldn’t be enough for him. 

“Is this what you two are going to do the whole time?!”, you shouted in the air towards them. “Or are you going to actually talk to each other!?!”

Steve hit the ground by your feet rolling to a stop as the other demon glided to the ground charging towards him. Placing yourself between them, you blocked his path. 

“You were supposed to stay behind.”

“Why? So you guys could handle this alone?! I’m not mad at him for what he did in his dream. Why are you?!”

Eddie grunted in fury as his eyes glowed while you spoke. 

“HE didn’t know it was a dream! HE thought it was real and that’s how he acted!! He let his father get the fucking best of him and then tried to FUCKING KILL ME before stabbing you which I haven’t forgotten, Y/N. What the fuck were YOU thinking?!”

“I was thinking you needed me and he would fucking die if anything ever happened to you! You aren’t just his partner, Edward. You’re his best friend! You’ve known him for over 4,000 years! You’ve known me for about a year and a half. It’s not the same…”

“What?! So, you’re fucking expendable?! Is that what you’re telling me right now, Y/N?! Then why the fuck did we risk our lives and sanity to get you that fucking potion?!”

“Calm down, Eddie.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, little girl.”

You both stared each other down as Steve slowly rose to his feet and placed himself in front of you.

“Go ahead.”, he panted. “Let’s keep going. Please.” The other demon glances him over growling again as he places his hands on his hips and turns away. “No! You’re right. I deserve it. I fucked up. I was blinded with trying to find Ellis, I wasn’t thinking.”

He started to cry and your heart broke as he continued to try to get Eddie to fight him. 

“Come on, baby, PLEASE! Do it!”, Steve shouted as he shoved him trying to instigate. “Come on! I deserve it! Like Mirage said, I wasn’t raised to do anything else but fight! This was bound to happen. I was bound to fucking hurt one of you!”

“Fuck me! I’m so FUCKING TIRED of hearing her fucking name! She’s gone, Steven! Mirage isn’t here. She’s fucking miserable in her own realm! Now can we let that be a part of our past and move on!”

“It’s not just her, Edward! This is all I know. Fighting and war. How am I supposed to be a father and fucking husband without becoming my dad!”

“Boyfriend.”

“What?”

“You said husband. Even though I’d marry you both in a heartbeat…we’re not.”, you sigh. 

Both men exhale heavily while Eddie crosses his arms. 

“By your logic, Steve, that means I can’t be a father or partner without becoming MY dad.”

Growling yourself, you step forward and punch them both in their arms. 

“That’s it! Steven, take us back to Espejismo.”

“What, why?”

“Don’t argue just fucking do it!”

“Wh-what about Ellis?”

“He’s asleep and he won’t be hungry for another four hours. Now, take us to Mirage.”

“Y/N, you’re in your pajamas—”

Your angry eyes cut him off as he hastily steps forward and does what you command. 

##############

As soon as you three step through, you are met with sunshine and people walking around the market you had appeared in. 

“Hey there, Y/N.”, a little girl grins up at you. “It’s nice to see you again. No one ever comes back to visit me.”

“Hm. I wonder why. Cut the bullshit. We need to talk.”

The world around you abruptly disappears as Mirage comes forward and scans you over with her hazel eyes. 

“That’s not usually something I do, baby. You three passed your test but I’m not going to lie after what I’m seeing I’m second guessing my choice. I was under the impression that you were stronger than the woman you used to be.”

“I am.”

“Then why are you here? Edward is right. Steven thought it was a reality and killed you.”

“If you can see what happened you should also be able to see part of that is because of what you put them through. We still have nightmares about what we saw. They deserve to see… see what the other is afraid of.”

Mirage thinks for a moment as he eyes glance towards them and back to you. 

“Tell them the truth and I’ll do what you ask.”

Turning to face them, their worried eyes meet yours. 

“I forgot we were in a dream. Like Steven, in that moment, I thought it was real. If it had been…I would have made the same choice. Out of the four of us, yes Edward, I feel like I’m the most expendable.”

Their eyes glow in anger as you swivel back towards the other woman who nods her head and gestures at the door to your side. 

“You can see things but like with what you saw with their memories you can’t interact.”

“Thank you.”, you mumble as you push through and they follow.

#################

“Fantastic. Back in this fucking hell hole. I’m really glad we came back to this realm, guys.”, Eddie growls sarcastically as you three find yourselves in his childhood home. 

“What’s your plan, Y/N? Why did you want to show us this?”, Steve asks.

“Not him. You.”

The sound of small sniffles catches the demon’s attention as he heads towards the sound, sighing at the sight of a child Eddie sitting on his bed with tears in his eyes as he stares at a photo of him and his mother. 

“EDWARD?!”

Quickly the tiny demon shoves the picture under his bed and rises to his feet.

 Steve is just now realizing he’s in a suit and so is his father as he stomps into the room. 

“What are you doing in here?!”

“Leave the boy alone, Allen. He just lost his mother.”, Wayne pleads, trying to intervene without making things worse. 

“Yeah. Now he doesn’t have someone here to fucking baby him. Come on, you little brat.”

As his dad pushes him down the hall, Steve tries to follow but is cut off by an older Eddie who tries to head for the door but is stopped when a glass bottle is thrown against the wall near his body.

“Wow, you missed. Were you aiming for me?”

“Always so fucking mouthy. Where are you going?”

“I’m going to Wayne’s. Is that a problem?”

“Hm. So he can show you another stupid fucking guitar? Pfft, I never understood why your mom was into that.”

“Well, mom was into a lot of things I don’t understand.”, he said sarcastically as he sized his father up. 

A slow chuckle left him before his father swung and Eddie hit the floor. 

Steve stepped forward with a loud growl prepared to defend the man he loved but the images in front of him vanished until he heard coughing and turned to find him bloodied on the floor. He watched as Allen stepped over him, grabbing his jacket, and leaving the house without so much as a goodbye. 

Eddie panted as he pushed himself up and leaned against the wall, spitting blood towards the door his father left through. 

The demon wanted to hold him, collect him in his arms and tell him everything would be ok, but all he could do was look as the vision of the other demon dried the tears that threatened to fall and forced himself to his feet.

“T-That’s who you’re afraid you’re going to become? You genuinely believe you could do something like THIS to us or our son?”

Eddie’s jaw tightened as he ignored Steve’s question, choosing to exit through the front door hoping it would take him anywhere else. To his surprise, it does. 

As you and Steve follow, the long-haired demon realizes you guys are back in the other demon’s childhood home. The sound of metal clanking caught everyone’s attention until you found yourselves in what must have been a training room on the other side of his home. 

Steve looked like he was in his early teens dressed in ill-fitting armor as his father came at him with full force, swinging his sword violently in his direction. 

“Come. On. STEVEN! What did I say?! No one is going to go easy on you out in the field. Do you want to die?!”

“NO! I’m just exhausted. Can we take a break?”

“Do you think there are breaks in war, son?! No!” 

The young demon hastily blocked his father’s sword as it came down from above and they maneuvered across the room. His feet suddenly gave out as he fell to the ground and even Eddie rushed towards him to stop the blade as it hit the floor just inches from Steve’s face.

“Congratulations, you are now dead. You failed me, your men, and broke your mother’s heart. Your wife is somewhere crying and mourning your death and your children will grow up to be just as pathetic as you.”, Bill sighed in annoyance as he tossed his weapon to the ground and exited the room. 

Eddie’s heart broke as he watched an angry Steve tear off pieces of his armor and throw them to the side as he tried to control his tears. 

The setting around you changed as his mother followed after a much older version of his dad. 

“Bill, we have to find him! It’s been over 50 years and I MISS MY SON!”

His father grabbed her wrist and shoved her into a nearby chair. 

“When will you get this through your head? We have no son! The kid we raised killed a fellow solider and deserted with a murderer. Not just any murderer, Janet! Edward Munson slaughtered our princess! Forget about him and move on! He deserves whatever hell he’s enduring.”

Steve’s head hung at his father’s words and you comfortingly reached out to rub his back.

The images around you three faded and you were surrounded by emptiness again. 

“He was so convincing, Edward. In my dreams, he sounds just like that. He said Ellis would die because he hasn’t been trained yet but I have. I have the training to save him.”

“No, Steven, you don’t.”

Even your head tilted at Eddie’s comment before he continued. 

“He was training you to be like him and failed. Thank fucking God. This isn’t you. You told me so many stories but actually seeing it… you have never been capable of being a dick like him. You need to stop letting him win.”

“Me? What about you? You think you could ever do that to Y/N or Ellis? Edward, you literally don’t have it in you. Trust me, that kid is so much like you, full of humor and heart. He could never hurt anyone and neither could you. Not like that. 

You and Mirage grin as they practically run to each other, cupping the other’s face as they kiss.

“I’m sorry. I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to be better and stop letting my emotions take over when I’m upset. I promise I’ll stop shutting you two out. I love you both so much.”

“What about you, Y/N?”, Mirage asks. 

“What about me?”

“Oh, ok. So, you aren’t going to tell them why you think you’re the expendable one?” She shakes her head as you ignore her. “You came to me for help, honey, and I’m going to help.”

“No, Mirage, don’t--!” 

The atmosphere shifts and suddenly you’re in a hospital hallway. Your dad cuts between your demon’s and they hastily turn to follow. 

“Hey Jackie. How are things today?”, your father asks the nurse who was watching over an adolescent you as you laid in the hospital bed with your arm wrapped around your mom who was sleeping soundly. 

“She had a rough day today. Of course, she tried to hide it behind jokes and trying to get the staff to stand on their toes but…” They both chuckle softly as she pats your dad’s shoulder. “Y/N fell asleep about an hour ago. She was trying to help her with her math homework but a coughing fit got in the way.”

“Thank you…for everything.”

The images blur till you’re back home and the demons watch as a 16-year-old you sobs on the couch. 

“Baby, everything’s going to be ok.”

“No, dad! No it’s not! How can everything be ok when you’re fucking sick to!?”

Your father wraps his arms around you as he tries to calm you. 

“I’m sure it IS fine. This is just a diagnosis, honey. I’ve been pretty healthy and they have so many treatments available. I’m…I’ll be here for a long time.”

An 18-year-old version of you sits outside your high school against the wall on the last day, flipping through a paper you got an A on. 

“I still think you should submit that to a contest or something.”, your English teacher grins as she comes up to your side and sits beside you.

“Naw. No point really.”

“Why not?”

“I just got hired at the clothing store in the mall. Between that and taking care of my dad, I won’t have time to submit or make any edits. Even if I do win, I can’t go to the award ceremony out of state.”

“So, you’re just not going to be a writer anymore?”

You shrug.

“Life has different plans for me, I guess. It’s fine. I have my dad so…”

“I think your parents would want you to be happy.”

Smiling, you rise to your feet as you grab your bag. 

“Um, thank you for teaching me, Mrs. Garett. I learned a lot from you over these last four years.”

As your image pushes past them, someone follows close behind as the demons realize they’re now outside the mall you used to work at. 

“Fuck you! Don’t fucking touch me!”

“Look, will you wait a second!?”, the boy shouts as he continues to try and buckle his pants. “I’m sorry, ok?! I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“Oh so when WOULD have been the right time to tell me you’re fucking one of my coworkers?! I’m surprised I haven’t caught you yet if your both just being so out in the open with it!”

“So am I since it’s not the first time Carol and I have fucked in the break room!” Steve’s eyes glow in anger as he steps towards you both but Eddie stops him placing a hand on his chest. “You’re never around! You’re always either working crazy hours or…”

“Or what? Taking care of my sick dad? You’re right. I’m such a monster! Fuck me.”

The boy sighs, placing his hands on his hips.

“I’m sorry, babe. I just—”

“Just go. Just fucking leave…like everyone else.”, your voice cracks as you turn away from him. 

As the sound of his shoes gradually disappear, you let out a loud scream into the Hawkins night sky before wiping away your tears, straightening your uniform, and heading back into the mall to finish your shift. 

Everything falls away as they turn to meet your frustrated face as you tightly fold your arms around your body. 

“Tell them.”, Mirage encourages.

“Fuck you.”

“Tell us, Y/N.”, Eddie insists.

You shrug as the tears start to flow. 

“You saw it. Both your dads were fuckers who hurt you both. Edward, you lost your mom and Chrissy. Steven, I felt how bad Nancy hurt you. Then you were so terrified something happened to Eddie and it killed you because you felt like now with the princess gone you were losing all your friends. You kept an extra close eye on Robin until you got a lead and went with Jason to find him. You both were banished and then cursed to that stupid fucking stone for…3000…years…”

“My dad lost the woman he loved. He always said he was fine and that she gave him ‘the best gift’ he could ask for but I saw it. I saw how much it destroyed him. And how was he repaid for his pain?! He got sick to. You both deserve to be happy. You were together and in love way before you ever met me. You deserve to be together in peace and be the fathers you never got.”

Both demons stared at you as they listened to you speak with wide eyes as they absorbed what you were saying. 

“Am I the only one who hasn’t lost their fucking mind?”, Eddie growls. “Are you going to stand there and tell me you’re the most expendable because you think you haven’t suffered as much as we have?”

“Even if that were true and let’s be fucking clear here it’s not.”, Steve rumbled in anger. “After what I just saw, Y/N…that’s a lot for one human to deal with. You carried the world on your shoulders way before we even came along.”

“It wasn’t that bad—”

“Y/N! It was fucking terrible! How can you not see… FUCK!”

“You lost your parents just like we did and you were trapped to. Maybe not in a stone but in Hawkins serving people who really didn’t give a damn except your dad. Like you with us, he saved you, sweetheart, and this is how you’re going to repay him? By throwing away your life if the opportunity arose?!”

“Excuse me.” The three of you swivel around to glare at Mirage, completely forgetting she was even there. “I don’t usually do this kind of thing but to be fair no one ever comes back here so…I’d like to show you something.”

After she disappears, you three find yourself in a huge, two-story house you had never been to before. As you walk down the hallway, you pass a bedroom covered from head to toe in band posters and clothes thrown everywhere. There was a stereo playing a song you didn’t recognize and a guitar not too far from it’s side. 

Suddenly, a boy’s voice fills your ears as he appears from his closet with his back to you as he slides on his leather jacket and hastily strolls to the mirror. His long wavy hair barely covers his horns but they still aren’t as big as Eddie’s or Steve’s. He had a bit of a lanky frame but you could tell he was strong as his muscles just barely peaked through the band shirt he was wearing with his slightly too big jeans.

“In the car, I just can't wait To pick you up on our very first date Is it cool if I hold your hand? Is it wrong if I think it's lame to dance?”

Your eyelids flutter at the sound of his voice as he sings and tears prick at the corner of your eyes. You’d know that sound anywhere. 

“Ellis.”

“Ellis! Hurry up, baby, or you’re gonna be late for school!”

“I’m coming, mom! Give me a minute!”

“Can you please grab your sister to?! Thank you!”

“Yeah, yeah.”, he grins.

“He still has your smile, Steven.”, Eddie marveled.

Both demons moved aside as their son passed them into the hallway with you in tow, pausing outside another bedroom. 

“Hey, Dell. Are you ready? Mom’s calling for you.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want to go.”

“Oh, you whiner. You’ll be fine, come on. One more semester and then you’ll be in high school.”

“But you won’t be there.”

“I know. Won’t it be great!”

“No.”, the girl whines. 

“Hey, you know you’re my best friend right? Wherever I go it won’t be far.”

She smiles as he pulls her into his embrace while you watch their exchange. This young lady’s room was fairly simple with pictures scattered above a desk in the corner with her and her friends. There appeared to be fencing trophies lining her shelf that Steve picked up to examine. 

“Fencing is sword fighting, right?” The demon breathily chuckles when you nod. “This thing here says she got first place in a league of some kind.”

“It looks like she’s into stones and auras like you.”, Eddie adds as he gestures towards her bedside table at the books and candles surrounding the lamp. 

As they looked around the room, you were looking at them, your children. Unlike her brother, he horns were much smaller and you could just vaguely make out the shape of small wings folded under her tank top. The brown hair on her head was the same as Steve’s but with your style as it rested just above her shoulders. Just like Ellis, however, her eyes and voice were a mix of human and demon.

“Guys! Let’s a get a move on!”

The three of you followed them down the stairs but paused in different places. You entered the living room and took in the photos around you. There were so many of 5 smiling faces that had your heart soaring. It seems you and your demons took them everywhere from Disneyland to Paris showing them the world. Some images were of your kids with Robin and Wayne as well as a million pictures of your children hanging out with Dustin’s in their realm. 

Steve and Eddie watched you as you effortlessly maneuvered around the kitchen, sliding breakfast in front of them as you continued to make lunches and get ready for the day. 

“Steven, she has a scar on her neck.”, the other demon murmured hoping you wouldn’t overhear as he pointed the area. “It looks old and faded but it’s not one she has now.”

A portal opening interrupts them as Steve steps through. 

“Kids. Wife.”, he greets making you giggle. 

“Holy shit, she does have a ring on her finger.”, the demon breathes as you search for a photo of the event to find none. 

“How’s Robin and Jonathan?”

“She’s good. We just did a quick patrol to make sure everything’s ok and went over some information. Nancy should be back tomorrow from the realm she was visiting with more intel so…” He grinned as he leaned down to give you a kiss. 

“Am I a fucking demon slayer now?”

“I mean, you do seem happier.”, Eddie beams. “And you look fucking sexy.”

The sound of feet catches everyone’s attention as the metalhead himself runs down the stairs. 

“Shit. I’m late.”

“Hi, daddy.”

“Hi, daddy.”, Ellis mimics making her pout as she smacks her brother’s shoulder. 

With a smile and a hastened pace, he leans down to kiss his daughter and son before overdramatically placing a kiss on you and Steve’s lips with loud MUAH noises that follow. 

“Love you, family, see you tonight!”, he shouts as he slings his guitar over his shoulder and runs out the door. 

“I’m done, mom.”, your youngest announces as she passes her plate to you. 

“Delilah Munson-Harrington, you didn’t even finish everything! You’re going to be hungry.”

At the name, your heart shatters as you start to cry. 

“Mom, oh my god. I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll make her eat a snack or something, mom, I promise.”, Ellis declares as he passes you his empty plate and they grab the lunches you made them. “Are you driving us, dad?”

“Yeah of course.”

Red light shimmers as they all change into their human form and run out the door. 

Mirage grins softly as she places herself beside you and comfortingly rubs your back with her palm. 

“They suggested naming her after your mother, Y/N. Both kids are exceptionally bright and resourceful. They love Hawkins but also their father’s realm. They can float between both without any pain and they love you three very much. You don’t want to see a world without you, sweetie.”

Steve is the first to step forward as his fingers caressed your cheek and wiped away the tears that stained your face. 

“I’m sorry.”, you whisper. 

“Y/N, you don’t have to be that martyr anymore. You saved the world, you saved us… you always used to say, ‘no matter what happens as long as we’re together we’ll be ok.’ I still believe that, honey. I’m so sorry I didn’t talk to you either about what was going on. It will never happen again, I promise. Jesus, that image of you with my sword…hurting you…I’d do anything to make sure that never becomes a reality.” 

“You’re not and never have been expendable, sweetheart. You mean so much to so many beings… even ones that aren’t here anymore.”, Eddie softly smiled as he came up beside you. “You’re a part of us, babe. We love you so much.”

You tackled your arms around him as Steve did the same. 

“Oh, oh ok, now. That’s enough touching and love in my realm. Go do that in your own.”, Mirage jokes as she flaps her hands towards you three in shooing motion. “Please, um, feel free to stop by again. I don’t usually get repeats.”

#############

As you enter your home, you quickly run to check on Ellis to find him still asleep and you can’t help but smile as you pet his tiny head. 

When you entered your bedroom again, you found Eddie pinning Steve’s wrists to the mattress as they passionately exchanged kisses. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve taken control and kept you in line, huh, baby?”

“I’m sorry, honey.”, he panted as his lips chased the other demon’s. “I love you.”

Swiftly flipping onto his back, the long-haired demon grinned as he motioned for you to join them. 

“Still asleep?”

“Fast asleep.”, you beam. 

“Good.” Craning his neck, his lips tenderly kissed your own before he groaned against them as Steve took his cock into his mouth and sloppily bobbed his head as spit fell from his mouth. “Fuck, that’s it, Steven.”

Taking a hold of his hair, he held the boy still as he fucked up in him, relishing the sound of his gags as his throat constricted around him. 

“Good boy.”, the demon grunted before bringing his lips back to his own and pushing him onto his back once more. Holding his legs open wide, Eddie guided himself into the demon beneath him as they both rumbled a soft growl from their chest. “Good…boy…”

“P-Please. Harder, baby. Fuck.” The long-haired demon leaned his chest against Steve’s and passionately kissed him as he rolled his hips roughly into his own. “Just like that. I love you s-so much. I’m so sorry.”

The demon underneath him whined when he pushed back up onto his knees and stopped moving but quickly silenced himself when he realized his partner was tugging you on top of him. 

When you lowered yourself onto his leaking cock, Steve’s back arched as whimpered at the feeling. 

“Fuck!”

Your hand hastily covered his mouth as you both continued your steady rhythm. 

“Shhhh, baby. You can’t wake up Ellis.” His strong arms wrapped around you and held you against him as you ground your waist down against his. “I love you both so much.”

“Love y-you, honey. Oh my god. I missed the way your pussy felt.”

A sweat covered forehead leaned against your back and you groaned as you felt him murmur against your skin. 

“Fuck…fucking can’t stop thinking a-about you as our wife… Ours, sweetheart. Claimed. Mmph…

“I’d-I’d marry you both. I’ll always be yours. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Steve’s fingers tangled tightly in your hair, clinging tightly to you as your body trembled and the coil snapped. As both demons filled you with their release, neither let you go as you fell to your sides. 

The sound of cooing makes you three giggle as Steve announces he’ll grab “the little monster”.

“Y/N, what if…we could get married?”

“I told you, Eddie. I’d say yes and marry you both in an instant.”, you grin as you roll over and cuddle up into his chest. 

“I’m serious, sweetheart.”

His tone causes you to sit up and he does the same as his eyes meet your own.

“What are you trying to tell me, Edward?”

Steve reenters the room with a big smile and an equally happy baby as Ellis beams down at you both.

“I did some research a long time ago in our realm when Chrissy and I were together. I wanted to know the rules when it came to royalty and peasants like me. I remember reading something about how you could be married up to two people.”

You and the other demon exchanged a look as he continued.

“I don’t know how it would all work though because I would assume it would be between three demons and you’re a human. Add in that back in that time there was some backwards rules on men marry men and vise versa. I’m not sure how that would be now either…”

“Eddie? Are you asking us to marry you?”, you ask in a lighthearted tone that makes him blush and roll his eyes. 

“I mean yeah kind of I guess. I’m just asking if the option is available would you…would you want to?”

“Baby, I went through a trial with a witch or goddess or whatever to get a potion that would keep me alive and with you both as long as you both shall live. I would gladly do it again to marry you.”, you smile as you tilt towards him to kiss his cheek. “Both of you.”

“Me to.”, Steve confirms, grabbing the demon’s cheeks in his fingers and bringing his lips to his own. “You’re really adorable when you’re nervous.”

“Pfft, shut up.”, Eddie jokes as he reaches for his son who giggles and falls into his arms. “And you’ll be our best little man.”

#################

@tlclick73 @tiannamortis @steeldaisies @goodhappyfriday @paleidiot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

@strangerthings64 @howlingco @eddiesguitarskills

@prettypeachsworld @nailbatanddungeon @notlempet @thwippyparker

[nightlilly0110]

I have not paid attention to My Hero Academia in ages. It got boring for me, I especially didn’t really like the “yes and” sort of fights they were doing where it was like “oh no he’s dead, oh wait no he’s not, and he also has gotten stronger and has somehow developed more powers” (I’m staring so hard at Dabi vs Shouto and Dabi spontaneously developing an ice quirk after having his ass beat multiple times already).

Anyway. Regardless on me having issues with that, because I know that when your main villain’s power is All Of Them, you gotta shove a whole lot of shit into your grand act, your finale.

The story of My Hero Academia did a really good job at pointing out all the flaws in hero society. Everyone wants the prestige with becoming a hero so they gotta limit it to people who have a strong enough power to get into hero schools, specifically the hero track. Not all heroes are good people and it’s dangerous to blindly give out this status as a top member of society. Not all villains are inherently evil - as the manga states, all it takes is one bad day. Racism, abuse, and mental health issues are overlooked because it happens to the people on the bottom rung. It’s realistic. It’s great. It gets the point across that this world isn’t as fantastic as it first seemed.

And then all of that immediately gets undercut by the reveal that Everything in the manga is AFO’s fault. He gave Shigaraki Decay and groomed him, he’s the one who caused the surge in crime and the anti-mutant rhetoric. They establish him as born evil, as the devil incarnate, that he has always been this way and will never change. I expected that he would never have redemption and is beyond saving, but to say he was Born Evil contradicts the “one bad day” narrative that is literally on the first page of Volume 24.

Gonna Devil’s Advocate myself for a second. I think the idea that AFO being irredeemable and going against the “one bad day” narrative would have been a great contrast to Shigaraki and the rest of the LOV.

Here’s the but.

They also go on to imply that Everything Will Be Okay As Long As We Kill AFO. Since he’s the Root Of All Evil, if they kill him, everything will be 100% perfect and nothing will be Evil or Wrong or Bad ever again.

Please hear my sarcasm. That’s unfortunately not how systemic racism, classism, abuse, or any other social issues work. They unfortunately do not vanish because you get rid of one guy. It’ll definitely help consider AFO won’t be around to fuck shit up, but it’s not a be all end all situation.

Additionally, having all of this realistic worldbuilding and establishing all the problems in this hero society, having testimonies from the villains and from Deku himself that if you are different you will suffer, and then turning it around and going “actually it wasn’t the system, the system it’s fine, it’s just this one dickhead lol” fucking sucks. Okay yeah, it’s cool to see all the ways AFO was pulling the strings behind everything and manipulating society how he wanted it, but it seemed very shoehorned in???? We see some glimpses of his control of resources with the Nomu labs and the implications of using doctors to scope out good quirks to use, but we spent too little time on that other than focusing on Kurogiri.

Moving on to the spoilers I saw today for the most recent chapter. Deku’s motivations have always been “I want to be able to save as many people as I can, just like All Might.” He’s stated many times throughout the last few fights that he wants to be able to reach Tenko - not Tomura, but Tenko - and this is the end he gets?????

Liberties with the translations as it’s not official but like. Come on.

“I’m a crying brat just like you said.” We established a long time ago that Shigaraki fights because he wants to build a better world for him and his friends. While he might have been a “crying brat” in his first few appearances, he hasn’t been that way in literal years. Deku calling him this (which I can’t find a good image of, sorry) goes against his entire character. He’s not a brat. He has reasons to do what he does.

“I wanted to stop you because you wanted to be stopped.” Stopped, not saved.

“So your sadness wouldn’t be passed on.” What Deku is saying here is that he is acknowledging that Shigaraki was wronged, but he isn’t going to do anything for him other than stop him (kill him) because he was hurting other people. Again, reminder, this was the kid that wanted to save as many people as he can, and Shigaraki wasn’t past saving. What was the point of emphasizing that Tenko was still a part of him that existed if you were going to kill them both?

We also don’t know what happened to the other villains as of right now. None of their statuses have been confirmed, but they’re presumed to be dead. None of them got their happy ending. None of them even got a good ending. None of them have the closure that their injustices were wronged. None of them have the closure that they left this world in good hands for other people like them. They just died.

So who exactly are we saving? What’s the point?

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。i know you still think about the times we had

synopsis. satoru will always comes when you call him, he just never thought you’d stop calling

— word count. 5.2k (where did i go wrong)

— contents. college au, rich boy! gojo, break ups and make ups <3, it’s the cliche trope where the rich guy’s parent forces you to leave him aka gojo’s father is the villain, angst with a happy ending—i don’t want my cause of death to be angry rb! gojo stans, emo gojo ft. marvin’s room (iykyk), cliche rain scene—this fic is so cliche i’m sorry, reader is gn! but gojo is mentioned to like pics of girls on instagram (he was being petty)

— notes. well, it finally happened. the long awaited break up. this one’s for you niku 🤞🏽 AND DABITEE ANON

you open the door when satoru knocks—just barely, though. it’s just enough to hand him the bag with the remaining things he’s left at your apartment. it feels familiar, being here, but it feels so different too. it’s always been happy knocking on your door—he never thought he’d dread letting his knuckles meet the cool wood. it’s like taking the last bite of something sweet when you’re too full. when the sugar is too decadent on your tongue and your head spins and your stomach twists and it’s too much even though it used to be so good.

it’s too much being here. it’s too much trying to meet your gaze and get nothing in return. it’s too much being handed back that sweater he basically let you keep. and yet, it’s good to see you. he wants nothing more than to be here with you, wherever you are, even if you don’t want him to stay.

“that should be everything,” you murmur, still looking down. “let me know if there’s anything missing.”

satoru would never tell you if there’s something missing. he’d never come back and demand back something he gave you, he doesn’t think he could ever take back something he gave you—being handed back his heart after pressing it to your palms is hard enough. but then again, maybe he should look for small things you probably missed. just so he can come back. just so he can see you—how else will he see you now?

“no, it’s alright,” he says quietly. he doesn’t miss the way you quickly let go as soon as his hands grab the bag, almost like you’re being careful enough not to let your fingers meet each other. “you can uh…you can just keep them. or…throw them out if you don’t want them,” he mumbles.

you nod, standing there silently. it’s quiet, and then it’s quiet some more. and finally, you look up at him for the first time since he got here, staring at him a little expectantly. oh, right. now would be the part where he leaves.

“can i…can i just know why?” he croaks. fuck. he’s not supposed to cry. you ripped his heart out and threw it at his feet, you didn’t even care to hand it to him even after you tore every artery apart. but he sniffles anyway, lips wobbling as he stares at you. “why are you leaving me?”

your fingers twitch, like you itch to reach over and wipe that tear that rolls down his cheek. in the end, you cross your arms instead. “i already told you, satoru—”

“that’s bullshit,” he clicks his teeth, shaking his head as he stares at you frustratedly, “you gave me some bullshit reason.”

satoru has worked so hard to be here—to be with you. hadn’t he done enough? hadn’t he told you about himself, things he didn’t want to? hadn’t he tried to become something, someone more than just a guy swimming in trust funds? hadn’t he worked for your attention, waited outside classes and walked opposite directions in the hall with you just to seem dedicated? fuck, he even burned his hand trying to learn how to make pancakes to impress you, let the maids laugh at him as he twisted the stove the wrong way to try and turn it on. 

why wasn’t it enough? what more could he give you than everything? how can the guy who has everything not have enough to give? he doesn’t understand.

“satoru, we weren’t gonna work,” you pinch your nose—it’s like you’re the one who doesn’t understand why he’s being like this. “the sooner you accept that the more hurt you’re saving the both of us—”

“we were working just fine,” he says exasperatedly. it’s like you insist he’s crazy when he’s nothing but sane. like he’s trying to tell you the sky is blue, and you’re refusing to believe it’s anything other than green. it’s clear. it’s practically a fact. you were doing just fine—why don’t you see that? “we were happy,” he takes a step forward and cups your cheeks, pressing his forehead to yours, “was it someone? did they tell you something? just tell me who, baby—i’ll fix it. i’ll put them in their place, okay? no one can bother you if i get them to leave you alone—”

“then you leave me alone,” you whisper. he stills. you pull away from his hands. “sator—gojo. please just leave me alone. it’s better that way.”

you close the door, and he stands there. numb. maybe a little shocked. entirely ruined.

gojo. he laughs quietly after a moment at that—it’s a laugh meant for men who’ve lost the last thread to sanity. gojo. it’s like a slap in the face, being called the name he worked so hard to get you to drop. it took him weeks—months, even, to convince you to call him satoru. then he upgraded to toru. then it was baby. sometimes you teased him and called him pumpkin—he called you peaches in return. when you introduced him, you called him your boyfriend. 

not anymore. now he’s back to gojo—that god-forsaken name with everything but what he really wants attached to it. his grandfather’s legacy. his future. business deals. fancy invites. more money than he knows what to do with. the name gojo comes with everything but you.

but he had you for a bit, didn’t he? when he was just satoru—but now he’s gojo again, and you’re gone. the only sign of you left is in the faint traces of your perfume in the sweaters you’ve returned. 

and satoru still isn’t sure what brought the break up on. he thinks it’s the part that stings the most—when everything seems perfect one second, and then it’s not. had he not tried enough? maybe he was too much. maybe he didn’t understand you the way you needed him to. maybe he was too overbearing. maybe he asked for too much too fast. 

he’s not sure. he tried asking when you broke it off—you only shook your head and said it wasn’t going to work out between the two of you, that it was a mistake to try at all. mistake? how could you call this a mistake? things were so perfect, weren’t they?

satoru doesn’t think there was even one second he wasn’t smiling when he was with you, and he used to think the same was true for you too. had you been faking it this long? or was it real at one point—had he really failed you so badly, seen past you so blindly that he didn’t notice when your smiles stopped reaching your eyes?

it’s too late, he figures. you and satoru are broken up. 

you ask him to come over one morning, and he does—because he always comes when you call. he brings your coffee order from that cafe you like, the one you don’t go to often because the coffee is more overpriced than any other coffee shop you’ve ever seen. he’s grinning when you open the door, leans in to kiss your lips excitedly. you turn your head then, and his lips meet your cheeks instead—he supposes he should’ve known it at that moment. he should’ve seen that your lips weren’t smiling. your eyes were tired, a little red. you were hugging yourself in that way you do when you’re nervous. you didn’t let him kiss your lips, you made him kiss your cheek. 

and then you sat him down on that worn-down couch of yours, took off that bracelet his mother gave him to gift you on your anniversary, and pressed it to his palm as you said we should break up. break up. you wanted to leave him—and satoru didn’t understand, still doesn’t understand. 

he’s tried for so long, replayed the last month of your relationship in his head over and over and fucking over. you always smiled. you kissed him first. you held his hand, and even squeezed. you asked to see him. you laughed when he was around. you said i love you. you were happy. but then you weren’t—when did you stop being happy? and how could you have stopped feeling it with him?

—————

breaking up with satoru is the hardest thing you’ve ever done. how long can people live without the sun? you think not longer than a few minutes—that’s what it feels like without satoru’s warmth, anyway. 

gojo satoru has always smiled as long as he’s been with you. he smiled smugly on your first meet, smiled bitterly after every rejection, smiled in pure glee when you finally said yes, and smiled like his fingertips could touch the sky every time he saw you after that. 

satoru has never looked sad for long in your presence—you have that effect on him, you make his lips curl and his eyes brighten in that way that they deserve to shine. but for the first time ever, his eyes dim with you around, his lips curl into a frown at your words, and he cries for you. his eyes glisten with tears instead of wonder, and you think for a moment that you might be making a mistake. 

but then you remember that this is for the best—that if you really love gojo satoru, you’ll let him go instead of clipping his wings.

“he’s picked up his things,” you speak quietly into the phone. you don’t sniffle even as you desperately need to—it’s the last bit of control you have left, and you intend to keep it. “i won’t be seeing him again.”

“good,” his father speaks, “that’s good to hear.” 

satoru’s father is a cold man, you learn that on the first meet. he doesn’t look at his wife with a soft look that tells you there’s any love built between the decades of marriage, and he doesn’t look at his only son with any affection for the boy he raised. instead, he stares at satoru like any businessman would an opportunity—with a calculating gaze that tries to work out the best course of action for the most profit. 

satoru is young, but he’s charming and conniving and knows how to get what he wants when he wants—he’s quick on his feet and rarely lets himself get cornered into a wall. in the last three generations of the family business, no heir has shown as much promise as gojo satoru. that’s what his father tells you, anyway. you believe him—satoru is smart and knows how to play his cards right, you won’t deny that. his future is set to be comfortable, and he’s never known anything outside of that, never built any other plans for himself. 

you can’t rip that away from him—not for your own sake, not for your own happiness. 

“you promised you wouldn’t freeze his trust funds once i ended things,” you remind him, “and that he’d keep his inheritance.” somehow, because the world grants you this one favor, your voice doesn’t shake—it’s steady and firm as it reminds the stone-cold man at the end of the line of your agreement—and he offers a slow chuckle that makes your jaw clench. 

“yes, i do recall,” he hums, “i’m glad we could come to agree. you understand, don’t you? it is my job as his father to do what’s best for him.”

you know what he’s saying—what that means. you’re not what’s best for him. maybe he’s right—maybe satoru needs someone who’s equally as promising to build a successful company into even more success. maybe he needs someone who can take him out for a change to those fancy places he takes you every few weeks. maybe he needs someone who’s heard of half the brands he wears and doesn’t scold him to turn the lights off so the electricity bill isn’t high. maybe he needs someone who can keep up with everything that gojo satoru is—and that someone is not you, no matter how deeply you love him. 

“—the offer still stands, should you change your mind. i’m willing to compensate you for the trouble this must all be.” 

your lips curl into a scowl at his words. that’s the thing about rich people, you think—money is always enough to sugarcoat everything. why worry about the dead grass in your lawn when you can paint it green? but you don’t leave satoru for extra cash on your hands—nothing can be worth auctioning off the only man who’s ever made you feel anything. you leave satoru because he deserves to continue living comfortably, to make a name for himself that isn’t just a ghost of his father’s. if that means being cut from the corner of the picture, you’re willing to pick up the scissors yourself. 

“no thanks,” you hiss, “i don’t need the money.”

“i would disagree,” his father sneers, “but suit yourself.”

the line ends, and for good this time, satoru is no longer yours. was he ever to begin with? 

—————

you try to forget your ex-boyfriend—keyword, try. every hour of your life consists of you using your burner account to refresh his instagram page to see if he’s posted anything new. you unfollow satoru from every social media platform the same day he picks up his belongings—you know he’s noticed within the first thirty minutes because all of his pictures with you are gone, just like all your pictures with him. 

in what you assume is an attempt to be petty, he likes every picture of every girl he sees, and he even blocks you on twitter—you know he picks twitter because twitter is the only social media that blatantly states you’re blocked. but then you’re unblocked in two days, and you know he must be missing you now that the initial anger is faded. 

it makes you laugh a little, even through your tears. satoru is not satoru without petty fits of emotion, and you can’t bring yourself to be mad, not when it’s your fault he’s hurting like this. he’s extra sad today, you gather—if the way marvin’s room is posted to his instagram story on a blank screen is of any hint. it makes you scoff in amusement that in true gojo satoru fashion, he’s effectively told all eight-thousand-something of his followers he’s pathetically in his feelings. 

you scroll through suguru’s story, too—he didn’t unfollow you even after satoru temporarily blocked you, but you figure suguru is the only person satoru really has. you shouldn’t keep yourself close to him, not when it could hurt satoru more, so you remove him too. 

suguru is, as always, drinking at some fancy party with obnoxiously rich college students who have not a care in the world for midterms around the corner. who needs to pass when you’re swimming in money whether or not you have a degree? the first thing you learn about the rich is that most of them are only at college for the experience—they don’t see college as the stepping stone to better opportunities, there’s nothing education could offer that trust funds already don’t. but satoru attends college for himself—he enjoys business classes, you learn, and especially finance ones. for someone who spends money so carelessly, he understands it particularly well. 

there’s no sign of satoru at whatever party it is suguru is at, there’s no trace of strikingly bright white strands anywhere in any corners—you do see naoya in a corner, though, and you crinkle your nose in distaste. if satoru were here, he’d say something bitterly under his breath about the asshole, and you would giggle. but satoru is not here, and even naoya the women-hating jackass makes you miss your obnoxiously whiny ex-boyfriend. 

everything reminds you of satoru. that bear he won you at the fair (after maybe six tries) by your pillows, those polaroids at your desk that you can’t bring yourself to take down, that sticky note on your fridge he left promising to replace the creamer he finished (he’s replaced it more times than he’s needed to by now), that extra big blanket you keep on the couch because the old one barely covered his legs, that pair of silly matching mugs you both had for coffee in the mornings. 

every corner of your apartment has something that reminds you that satoru was here, that he was yours, that for a short while, he was the best thing you ever had. it’s your fault, you think—that satoru and you are here in this mess in the first place. he’s always looked at life through a hopeful lens. having everything does that to you, makes you ignorant to the misfortunes of the world, makes you think everything is within the realm of your reach. you, on the other hand, knew this was bound to happen. the two of you together is like hot oil and cool water—what feels like sparks is just the oil shooting out to burn you. you should’ve known this would have never lasted. 

in a way, you think you did. it’s why you hated him so fiercely at first—maybe deep down, you always knew you wanted him, that he would never be yours. maybe that’s why you were so adamant about rejecting him, that even when he was clearly trying, it would never be enough. satoru has always been enough, has always been what everyone has wanted—you’re not so sure you can say the same for yourself. 

you love gojo satoru. he loves you too—he falls first, and you think maybe, he might have fallen harder too. no one loves like satoru. they say if you press coal hard enough, it turns to diamonds—you think if you gave satoru coal, he would hand you back the sun and all of her stars. it’s just the kind of guy he is, the one that turns everything dull into something bright and warm and worth it. you wish you didn’t have to break his heart, you wish you could’ve walked out of this the only one hurt. but maybe, at the very least, if you break him good enough that he hates you, he’ll move on quicker, maybe have something to look forward to while you continue to work your way up and cheer him on. 

before you can refresh suguru’s page one more time to stalk his story, you’re pulled from your thoughts as someone knocks on your door—correction: pounds on your door. you jolt on your couch, standing up and making your way to the front door quickly and looking through the peephole. 

satoru. of course.

he’s soaked to the bone—it’s raining outside, and of course, just as on brand as always, he must’ve rushed here without an umbrella.

you shouldn’t open it.

but you can’t just leave him in the rain, can you? but he’s not your problem anymore, you agreed to leave him, didn’t you? but how could he not be your problem when he’s all you think about? but this could cause him trouble if his father found out he was here, right? but can you really leave someone, ex-boyfriend or not, in the pouring rain? you can’t be that cruel can you?

before you can make up your mind, he speaks up, “i know you’re standing there. open the door,” he demands. 

“satoru, go home,” you sigh, head pressing against the surface that separates you, “don’t make this anymore difficult than it has to be.”

“if it’s difficult, that means you don’t really want to do this,” he argues. he’s still as good as ever at sweet talk, still as persistent and charming as ever at getting what he wants. “please,” he croaks, “just let me in.”

you know it means more than one thing. you know it means more than just your home. but you shouldn’t, you can’t let him know why you did all this—how can you protect someone from something if they don’t let you? satoru would never let you if he knew, and that’s why you can’t let him know. 

“satoru, if you don’t leave…i’ll…i’ll call the cops,” you warn. 

“no you won’t,” he says instantly. “i’m not leaving until you open the door. and if i get sick, i’ll send you my bill for the emergency room visit.”

“you’re not going to the emergency room for a common cold, you idiot,” you scoff. 

the rain doesn’t slow—in fact, you can hear thunder. satoru is still stubbornly outside, knocking away. 

“i’ll start screaming,” he insists, “your neighbors will complain for noise again. do you want to be kicked out of this apartment? just let your cold, wet, heartbroken ex-boyfriend in if you have a heart.”

and because you are, and always will be, weak to the charms of gojo satoru, you open that damned door—even though you shouldn’t, even though you can’t, even though you said you would never again. but you do. because it’s satoru, and he always comes when you call, and you’ll always let him in when he’s here. 

“you don’t come to your ex’s house less than one week after the break up,” you sigh once you open the door. he takes a step in, shutting the door behind him. 

“why did you leave me?” he asks. 

“satoru, you can’t keep bringing this up—”

“why? just tell me why.”

“i don’t have to—”

“tell me why and i’ll stop bothering you. i just need to know why,” he insists. 

and then you break.

you’re only human. you’ve lost the man you’ve given everything to for over a year in the span of one week. you’ll never see his lovely mother again who spoiled you rotten, you’ll never hang out out with his funny best friend who treats you like family, and you’ll never be enough for gojo satoru, the rich, loud, sheltered, obnoxious, handsome jackass you met and had to do a project with and accidentally fucked over and over again until you fell in love. 

so you shove his chest, once, then twice, then a third time, each time getting weaker and weaker than the last as tears slip down your cheeks as you simply break down. “just leave, satoru,” you sob, “why can’t you just leave? why do you keep coming back?”

you hate seeing him here. you want him gone. you never want to see him again. you hope he never leaves. you’re glad to see him. you hope this isn’t the last time. you hate that he seems to not be getting enough sleep. his eyes are hollow. he must not be eating properly. he probably hasn’t attended class. he has a quiz next week. he most likely forgot about that. his clothes are wrinkly. he definitely hasn’t showered in days. 

“last month you said i was it for you,” he glares at you, his eyes red and swollen and every shade of heartbreak. you miss when they were blue—that beautiful, bright, perfect shade of blue. “last week you said we were a mistake. what the fuck do you mean, huh? what are you playing at?”

“you can realize a lot in a month—”

“not enough to erase over a year,” his voice booms. it makes you flinch and hug yourself tightly. tears slide down your cheeks, your vision is blurry. this might be the last time you see satoru, and even if he’s angry, you want to remember the curves of his features. so you wipe them away. they keep coming back. “so tell me,” he clenches his jaw, “did you string me along for a year or did something happen last week that you’re not telling me?”

“i realized you were bad for me,” you say quietly. 

satoru stares at you. it’s a piercing gaze—his eyes are electrically blue and his lashes are unfairly long and every time he stares at you, you think he almost sees into your soul. they’re tired—there are purplish bags under them on that pale skin of his, and the whites of his eyes are concerningly bloodshot. he stares, and stares, and for a second, you think you’ll die like this. watching him stare at you as your heart bleeds out. 

“i spent weeks,” his voice shakes, “i waited outside your class. i followed you to the next one. i memorized your fucking schedule.”

“satoru, you need to leave—”

“and then you fucked me and left every morning like i was nothing,” he glares, sniffling. you don’t know where the rain drops on his face start and where the teardrops end. “and then i begged you for a chance—begged. i burned my hand, got laughed at by the maids to learn how to make those stupid fucking pancakes for you.”

“i didn’t ask you to—”

“it took you two months to call me baby for the first time. did you know that? i waited two months to hear that. i thought it was the best two months i ever waited.”

“satoru,” you plead. 

you’ve given up on trying to wipe away the tears—he’s given up on crying altogether. you’ve never seen him so hollow, so dead in the eyes and so, so tired.

satoru has never gotten tired—not when he’s fighting for you.

“and then you kept pushing me away, acting like i was some shallow guy who wanted to get in your pants and leave cause i had some money to my name. i took you everywhere, introduced you proudly, let everyone say what they wanted to say about me because i loved you, and…and i thought you loved me too,” he shakes his head. 

his voice breaks, and god, so does your heart right along with it.

“i do love you,” you admit it before you realize what you’re saying. 

“then why did you fucking leave me?” his voice is loud.

satoru never yells, not at you. his voice is always gentle, patient, like he worships the ground you walk on, like he’ll get on his knees if you ask him too. satoru never yells—but he does tonight. 

“because i had to,” you sob, fingers digging into your temples as you shake. the words spill from your lips faster than the tears, like a swarm of angry bees, one following after the other. “or you’d lose everything. the trust funds, the inheritance, the company. i couldn’t let that happen to you—not for me,” you whisper. 

it feels like defeat—in the end, you couldn’t keep satoru, and you couldn’t leave him either. you couldn’t love him like you wanted, and you couldn’t let him go like you should have. what else is there left to fuck up? what more can you ruin in less than a week? the bees feel like maggots in your mouth, swarming a dead carcass.  

“so you left me because my old man threatened you with my trust funds?” he asks in disbelief. you think something in satoru dies at that—something in his shoulders falls and his eyes almost seem gray. 

satoru gets his blue eyes from his mother—they’re bright and kind and deeper than the ocean. but unlike the ocean, they’re not scary to fall into, to lose yourself in no matter how far you are from shore. his father’s eyes are gray—cold and blank and not laced with a single hint of emotion. 

you can’t help but think that blue suits satoru so much better than gray ever could. 

“it wasn’t just that,” you shake your head, “that’s not fair, satoru. what was i supposed to do? know you were about to lose everything and stay?”

“you could have talked to me before you decided for me,” he hisses, “what do you want me to say? thank you? thank you for breaking my heart? thank you for making me feel like a worthless piece of shit who wasted a year for someone who didn’t seem to care? thank you for walking out on me?”

“you know i’d have stayed if i could,” you argue, voice breaking.

“then why didn’t you? why the fuck didn’t you?”

“because i couldn’t!”

“you could!” he screams—you realize, for the first time in your life, you hate when satoru screams. he never screams. “all my life, that old man has been making decisions for me. satoru, wear this. satoru, go here. satoru, don’t do that. satoru, put that away. satoru, stay away from them. satoru, come with me. that’s all he’s ever fucking done—make every choice for me. and now…now you’re just like him,” he breathes, lips wobbling as he stares at you with hurt. 

it’s like that for a bit—you stare at him as he crumbles, and he stares at you like he doesn't know you anymore. you don’t know who leans in first, if it’s your hand or his face, but one second you’re feet apart, and the next second his face is cradled in your hands, thumbs swiping away at his tears. you catch them, one by one, waiting to wipe them away no matter how fast they come. because satoru always comes when you call, and you’ll always be there for him to find you. 

“i don’t want to leave,” you mumble, “i never do. you are it for me, i meant that, you know. who else will melt extra chocolate in my hot chocolate?”

“then don’t leave,” he begs, voice cracking, “i don’t want you to. i’ll handle that old geezer—my grandfather will knock some sense into him. fuck, suguru and i can even hide his body, it’s fine. just don’t leave, okay?”

you let out a watery chuckle, pinching his cheek as you shake your head. “i don’t know if i’m worth homicide, satoru.”

“i think you’re wrong,” he huffs, “you’re wrong about a lot of things, you know. so wrong.”

“i never said i was perfect,” you pout.

he buries his head into your neck, clinging to you tightly—you cling back, because nothing is as safe as satoru’s arms. you’d melt into his skin if you could, live in that spot right where his heart is so you can make sure it’s always beating. 

“you’re still perfect,” he mumbles, “but you’re always mean to me. this was the worst you’ve ever been.”

“i’m sorry,” you murmur, slipping your fingers into his hair—it’s still wet, you realize. he’s soaked, and he could catch a cold but you don’t care. satoru is back. he’s here in your run-down apartment with the mugs and the blanket and that toothbrush you forgot to return and that pair of socks you found in your drawer. satoru is finally home. “i’ll never leave you again.”

“promise?”

“yeah. as long as you don’t block me on twitter again.”

“you deserved that.”

“and for the love of god, toru, delete that marvin’s room story. that was so dumb.”

“are you stalking me?” he pulls away with a grin, making you glare with a huff. he chuckles, kisses your forehead as he murmurs, “missed me that bad, huh? yeah, i would too.”

“well, obviously not enough to post marvin’s room on my story.”

“you can’t be mean to me after you broke my heart!” he whines.

yeah, you think, satoru is home. he’s still that loud, obnoxious, pestering brat that he always was—and he’s still the only love you’ve ever known. 

“i love you,” you press your forehead to his, kissing him slowly. you want to kiss him harder, you want to kiss him desperately like you’ll never kiss him again. like you lost him and miraculously got him back. like you’ll never see the sun again without him. 

but there’s time for that—lots of it, in fact. because satoru is home.

“i love you too,” he whispers, “wanna shower with me? if you really love me, you would.”

read the makeup sex sequel ;) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

if this fic was a person i would want it dead.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt: Dead on main. No trick only treat.

~~Сhildhood friends and deals~~

The Justice League has to summon a ghost from another dimension to address the threat. They don’t know what price the Ghost King will take but there’s little time to bargain. Another spirit threatening them has already seized all the computers on their base. John doesn’t know what else to offer. A summoned ghost starts to look bored. Gold, jewelry? A favor from a member of the League? Like the Ruler of All Dead needs it. No one dares to make another offer, and the King is in no hurry to set out his demands. Maybe try to pull off a soul sale scam?

Suddenly, Red Hood breaks into the hall, walks up to Phantom and shakes his shoulder vigorously. Red Hood: You, get Technus out of here right now. I need access to the files and fast. Phantom: That’s rude, dude. Where did you grow up? in the cave? No "hello, no how are you, Danny", really? Red Hood: I’ll pay the usual price. Phantom: Deal.

What is the price? John sees Batman and gets in his way. The usual price, his guy said. Means Jay was already out of the deal alive and well. This hyperprotective bat would only piss off the ruler if he interfered.

The King quickly deals with his subordinate using a thermos and remains to watch working Hood. Red Hood: What do you want? I’m busy. Danny: You and I have a contract~ Red Hood: All right, all right. Jay throws M&Ms right in the face of the ghost. But king doesn’t look angry. He opens the package and starts sorting the candies by color. Phantom quickly eats up all the green ones and passes the red ones to Hood. Jason takes them without any questions.

Strange. John has never seen a summoned creature share its reward with a human. And the son of a bat looks too comfortable with it. Wait, since when do super-powered beings think that candy is a decent wage?John makes one of the most likely deductions using his experience. Constantine: Batsy, how long has your son been sleeping with the King of Ghosts? Batman: He…what?!

~~~~~~~

Dick *knocking at the door*: Little Wing, you hate ectoplasm and everything what is neon green, so why? He’s dangerous! Jason who turned on the music to not listen to his crazy family: ~He’s poison but tasty~

Dick: NoOOoo

~~~~~~

Jason: And now everyone thinks that I sold my virginity to you for a bargain or something, because interdimensional creatures like you aren’t supposed to help for nothing. Like you’re playing favorites. I’m gonna fucking kill John. Danny: Well, I wouldn’t say no to that. Jason: What? Danny: I mean, to k-kill John, yeah. How dare he.. Jason: Omg, you’re still so terrible liar, Fenton.

Danny: Sorry :(

Jason: No. Say it again.

~~~~Twelve years ago~~~~ Maddie wasn’t thrilled to learn that Danny was trying to make friends with Todd’s son. Their neighbor was terrible. And his son was definitely a street rat and probably a juvenile delinquent. Maddie: Danny, honey, there’s got to be a reason this boy is talking to you. Even kids from the crime alley are always looking for a bargain they can make or a fool they can fool. Danny: But Jason is so cool! He knows so much about books and alleys and.. Maddie: But you don’t want to be a fool, do you? Danny: Okay, Mom, I get it.

So, if Danny wants a cool friend, he’s got to offer a bargain.

He didn’t have a lot of pocket money for every month but Jason needed it more anyway. And his lunch that Jack was picking for him was big enough for two and only bitten on Tuesdays. Nice. Jason: Do I understand correctly? You will pay me and give me food, and I, what? Protect you from bullies? Danny: No! I’m not weak, I don’t need to be protected. Just..maybe we could sit together at lunch and walk each other home sometimes? Jason: Nay Danny: But why? You want something else? Jason: Money’s fine but your homemade food is…strange. Danny: I can bring sweets if you want. Jason: Deal. 3 pop tarts for a joint lunch, a party size bag of M&Ms if you waste my time out of school.

~~~~

Sometimes they share sweets when they hang out but more often Jayson takes them home to save in case his parents have money problems. Sweets have a long shelf life stored and he may not be afraid to poison himself. Over time, candy becomes their currency and a secret language for all occasions. Need help without unnecessary questions? M&Ms. Problems with learning? Skittles. The question is about family? Snickers. There will be a serious conversation? Pop Tarts.

Jason: One snickers and a pack of gum. Danny: Yeah, Jason? What do you want? Jason: My mom wants to meet my friend. Come to lunch on Sunday. Danny: Okay, you managed to pay for my expensive services. Jason:…and you just lost the gum from the deal.

~~~~~~

Jason threw a package at Danny: Three pop tarts. We need to talk. Danny: All right? Jason: Why are you avoiding me all week?! Danny: Well, it’s just..you’re Wayne now. Jason. Still Todd. And what about that? Danny: You can hang out with the cooler guys now, I didn’t want to embarrass you. Jason: Bullshit! I’m still the street rat, and you’re trying to avoid our contract. me. And I don’t even need money from you anymore. What the hell? I thought you are my friend. Danny: And I am!

~~~~~~

Robin: What’s a schoolboy doing in an alley at night? Danny: Um, I…nothing? Don’t tell my parents, Mr. Robin sir. Robin: It will cost you so many Chunky Bars, you have no idea. Danny:...Jason? Jason: N-no. Danny: Damn yes. What are you doing in green shorts on the street at night?! Jason: Cosplay. Danny: Oh yeah? Then I’m just your hallucination. Don’t hesitate to ghost me. I’m going home, Disgrace In Pixie Boots, bye. Jason: fu%&c$#u

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — RYOMEN SUKUNA. a better man.

about. you’re a girl that’s way out of his league and he’s the bad boy you couldn’t help but fall for. what happens when ryomen sukuna fails to meet you in the middle?

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, suggestive towards the end, no curses!au, modern!au, it’s implied that sukuna is in a gang, mentions of fights, reader is a rich girl, they’re kinda in love :( bad boy!sukuna, fem!reader.

“you’re mad at me. aren’cha?”

sukuna mutters with an air of faux nonchalance as he lazily jogs up the final marble steps that lead up to the restaurant he was supposed to meet you at nearly two hours ago. the evening traffic zips by, red and white headlights parting through the rain to illuminate your boyfriend’s features. heavy water droplets take residence on the slope of his nose and Cupid’s bow, some even daring to cling on to the tips of dusty rose-coloured hair.

if you weren’t so angry right now, you might take a moment to appreciate how good sukuna looks in the moment — especially with the way the rain makes the designer tux you’d gotten for him cling to his skin. exposing every ridge and dip and curve in his muscle while his inky black tattoos become all the more visible.

“of course i’m mad.” you step aside to let sukuna under the shelter of the entrance, avoiding him as he swoops down for his usual hug and kiss. “tonight is important. it was important.”

“babe c’mon on, i was—“

“you were late. they’re serving dessert in there, ryomen.” your tone is coloured with shades of annoyance and a hint of warning. like a mother about to lecture her child. you’re pissed. it’s written all over your face too — in the way that your brows crease and you pout so adorably. he’ll try to play it off, like he doesn’t care, but it almost makes sukuna sick to his stomach to know that you’re angry with him.

the rain picks up outside of the restaurant and you continue. “all you had to do was show up on time. come to this stupid fancy restaurant and be there to meet my parents. but of course, you got yourself caught up in—“ you grab his dress shirt in frustration, noticing the blood on the collar that doesn’t belong to him. his split knuckles and the bruise on his lips. “— in whatever this is.” you roll your eyes, blood boiling.

“it’s nothin’ for you to worry your pretty little head about,” sukuna scoffs, lips spreading wide in his signature smirk. the excuse is lame, but he doesn’t want you to worry for him any longer. “since when did you care about what your parents think, anyways?” but you see it in his eyes, that same old worry. that he’s not good enough for you, that a scumbag like him doesn’t deserve a pretty girl like you. he’s always told you to find someone better, someone able to feed into the glitz and glamour that you were brought up in.

but you’ve always told ryomen sukuna that you have everything you need right there with him.

cupping his face, the heat of anger dispels from your body and you exhale deeply though your nose. “i don’t care about what my parents think. if i did, i wouldn’t be dating you.” you cast a thumb over the thick lines of ink decorating his face, accenting sukuna’s high cheekbones and chiselled features while the rest of your fingers sink into his smooth, dark undercut. “but that doesn’t mean i don’t want you to meet them. they’re just as special to me as you are. i want the most important people in my life to know each other.”

your boyfriend’s hands settle on your wrists as he grunts noncommittally, indicating that he’s aware of his wrong doings. if there’s one thing that sukuna hates, it’s upsetting you. he doesn’t care what the world thinks of him, it’s never mattered before. yet, even the slightest look of disappointment from you has the man in shambles. “‘m sorry,” he drawls, his grip on you shifting down to cup your waist — pulling you flush against him. “what can a guy like me do to make it up to you?”

“you can go on in there and charm the hell out of my rich, uptight parents so that we can hurry up and go home,” your voice lowers an octave as you stand on your tip toes for the extra height so that you can nip at the shell of sukuna’s ear. “where you can rip this dress off’a me.”

“such a dirty mouth for such’a prim ‘n proper girl, hm? i should wash it out with soap.” he purrs right back, leaning down to kiss at your neck until you’ve had enough of his frayed pink hair tickling your skin. he damn near melts when your fingers inch up to tug at his roots — earning a deep and thrilling growl from the man. “that was a dirty move. who taught you that?”

“my good for nothing boyfriend, he’s kind of a bad influence.” you tease back, despite having to physically push sukuna away in order to avoid setting off his inner beast before dinner with your parents is done — and instead, take to grabbing his larger hand in yours so you can lead him from the front of house to your family’s reserved table.

and like always, sukuna trails after you like a lost puppy enamoured with the person that found them, have them love and warmth. because, while you didn’t change him, you made him want to be better — to give up the knives in his back and the bullets looking over his head for something better. something softer.

something like you.

ryomen sukuna wanted to become the someone he thought you deserved.

that’s why he put on this stupid suit and tie, why he let you take his hand, why he follows you to the the table that’s sure to seal his fate with you.

behind all that rough exterior, is a man who loves you.

and in front of sukuna, is a girl who loves him and all of his flaws right back.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[uzurakis]

hello!

Can we have JJK guys reaction to his friend/buddy being in love with his girlfriend? (can sukuna and other any other characters you like).

THEIR FRIEND ALSO . . . LIKES YOU?!

featuring: ryomen sukuna. gojo satoru. itadori yuuji. fushiguro megumi.

n. hey sweetheart, i’m not used to writing sukuna, but i tried to write him as him as much as i can! i hope it suits him. thankies for the req x—x

GOJO SATORU. when gojo found out that his friend also liked you, his reaction was, unsurprisingly, far from what most people would expect. instead of anger or jealousy, he simply shrugged it off, his trademark smile playing on his lips.

“did you hear what i just said?” you asked, looking at him with wide eyes, he wasn’t fazed. “your friend likes me.”

gojo laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “oh, i heard you,” he replied, leaning back against the couch with an amused glint behind those glasses. “but why should i be worried? i know you’ll choose me at the end of the day.”

you blinked, taken aback by his confidence. “you’re not even a little bit concerned?”

“not at all,” gojo said, grinning. “i mean, can you blame them? you’re everything. but they don’t stand a chance against me, darling.”

“besides, it’s not like i don’t trust you. i know you love me.”

his words were playful, but because you know him well, he was serious. it was just the way he expressed it. “you’re right,” you admitted, tracing figures on his hands. “i do love you.”

“see? nothing to worry about. let him have their crush. it doesn’t change anything between us. if anything, it’s flattering. just proves i have excellent taste.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA. being in a relationship with sukuna meant navigating his unpredictable moods and overwhelming presence, but you had never seen him this angry before. the air seemed to crackle with his frustration as he paced back and forth, his eyes blazing with a fury that sent chills down your spine.

“babe,” you began, trying to calm him down. “what’s wrong?”

he stopped pacing and looked at you, his expression dark. “fucking jerk, it’s that so-called ‘friend’ of mine,” words spat out immediately. “i found out he likes you.”

your heart skipped a beat. you had noticed the way his friend had been acting lately, but you hadn’t thought much of it. now, seeing sukuna’s reaction, you realized just how serious this was.

“ryo,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “i chose you from the start, right?”

he growled, his hands clenching into fists. “i don’t care about that. he should have known better. he should have known that you’re mine.”

sukuna lined up his hand on your chin, causing your eyes to meet. “if he comes near you, he’ll face my wrath,” he whispered, his tone still laced with menace. “no one threatens what’s mine.”

“especially my woman.”

ITADORI YUUJI. you told him about his friend’s feelings while you both were sitting inside your cozy room. itadori’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but then he leaned back in his chair, processing the information.

“wow,” he said softly, scratching the back of his head, those pink locks becoming messier. “i didn’t see that coming.”

bitting your lower lip, you’re worried about how he might take the news. “you’re not mad, aren’t you?”

but your boyfriend shook his head, full of understanding. “no, i’m not mad, baby. feelings are complicated, y’know? it’s not like he can control how he feels.”

you sighed in relief, appreciating his maturity. “okay... i was just worried about how you’d react.”

“baby, i trust you, and i trust our relationship. besides, i’m kind of curious now. like, since when did he start liking you? how did i miss that?”

feeling the tension ease out of the situation, you chuckled at him. his obliviousness always gets in the way. “don’t know the exact moment, but i guess it’s been a while.”

“hmm,” the guy leaned forward, resting his chin on his free hand. “did he ever try to tell you or make a move?”

you shook your head. “no, i guess he didn’t. i think he knew about us and didn’t want to cause any trouble.” after your statement, a thoughtful expression was written on his face. “that must have been tough for him. i mean, having feelings for someone who’s already in a relationship.”

“it probably was,” you agreed. “but i’m glad you’re handling this so well.”

“hey, anyone would be lucky to have you. i just got there first.”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. he took a deep breath, deciding to be honest. after fushiguro found out that his friend liked you, it hit him harder than he wanted to admit. the knowledge gnawed at him, and although he tried to brush it off, doubts began to creep in, making him question his own worth and your relationship. “i found out that one of my friends likes you.”

“really? who?” you blinked in surprise, not expecting that. he named the friend, and you frowned, thinking back on any interactions you might have had. “i had no idea…”

fushiguro nodded, but his eyes avoiding yours. “i didn’t either. it just… fuck, it bothers me.”

“i guess it makes me question things. like, am i good enough for you? do you have feelings for him too? those sorta things..”

your hands immediately caressed his by instinct, seeing him like this made your heart ache. “baby, you’re enough for me. i don’t have any feelings for them. i’m with you until the end.”

the man looked down for a long while, his grip on your hand tightening. “but what if i’m not enough? what if there’s something lacking in our relationship that makes you look elsewhere?”

“there’s nothing lacking, megumi. i’m happy with you. and i love you just the way you are.” you shook your head, cupping his face with your free hand.

after that he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes briefly. “i don’t want to that jealous boyfriend but i can’t help it. the thought of losing you to someone else…”

“you’re not going to lose me,” you interrupted softly. “i’m here with you, and that’s not going to change. fushiguro then opened his eyes, searching for reassurance in yours, before closing them again. a little, relieved smile tugged on the edges of his lips. “i love you. i’m sorry for doubting us.”

@uzurakis

[distantdarlings]

HIS OWN MEDICINE // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.6K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Your best friend, Pansy Parkinson, suggests fixing your boyfriend’s flirting problem by giving him a taste of his own medicine.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in v) Unprotected, spanking, top!theo, bottom!reader, fem!reader, mean dom, innocent reader?, degradation, name-calling, weird authoritative thing going on with Theo (idk), one (1) use of ‘daddy,’ mild breeding kink, flirting while in relationship, jealousy, not fully proof-read (lmk if I missed any!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

nobody - Toby Mai

- - -

“I don’t want to hear another fucking excuse, Theo!” you screamed, rage flushing your cheeks. It took everything in you not to strangle him right now.

After the third time catching him flirting with another girl, you were ready to walk again. You weren’t even sure how many times you’d broken up with him, and how many times he’d broken up with you.

But you were about to add another time.

“Please, baby, you know it’s not what you think,” he begged, trying to grab your hands. “She’s just a friend—we were just chatting.”

“Usually, you can chat with people without your hands wrapped around them! You seemed pretty fucking cozy with her!”

“Baby, come on…,” he cooed, trying to press some kisses to your fingers. Angry, you yanked your hand out of his grasp and tore out of the room. You heard the door slam behind you and ignored the gasps of shock as you shoved through a group of students moving in a unit down the hallway.

You could hardly stand that stupid man right now. If you saw his face again within the next 48 hours, you would punch him.

As you flew down the steps of the Slytherin dormitories and toward the mostly empty common room, you nearly knocked a petite woman over.

The two of you crashed into each other and grunted on impact.

“Watch where you’re going—Merlin! What are you doing down here, honey? Are you crying?”

It was Pansy, one of your best friends in the entire world. Though the tears had been pooling in your eyes since you stormed out of Theo’s dorm, her question had pushed you over the edge. An angry sob left your lips.

“Oh no! What happened?” she cried, wrapping you up in her small frame. Shamelessly, you wept into the folds of her robes. She smelled comforting, like home and daisies. You could hardly hold back the tears that poured down your cheeks.

“It’s Theo!” you gasped. “I broke up with him again!”

“Oh…again?” You could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “What did he do this time?”

“He was rubbing up on that stupid Gryffindor girl from last time—laughing and going on! I hate him! I never want to see him again!”

“Why do you let this keep happening?” she asked nonchalantly, patting your head soothingly.

“Me?” you scoffed. “He’s flirting with other girls!”

“Okay, but…you also keep getting back together with him,” she shrugged.

You pulled away from her and glared a bit. You knew your decision-making on the love aspect of things had never been terrific, but you couldn’t help it. Theo was so good to you (besides the flirting thing).

You had tried to rationalize it repeatedly, telling yourself he was just a friendly guy, but he never acted that way to other guys—only girls. And you’d realized your rationalization was stupid. And that he was just flirting.

“Listen,” she started again. “I get it more than anyone else. Theo’s very hard to resist—I’m just saying he’s attractive!” She quickly rushed to defend her words because, after all, though you and Theo were “broken up” right now, you’d likely be back together before the end of the week. That’s how pathetic you were.

“If you don’t want to break up with him, how about you talk about it with him,” she suggested. “You need to sit him down, get stern with him, and tell him that he’s not going to talk to these girls the way he is anymore.”

“I’ve tried that already, Pans! I practically scream in his face every time he does this shit!”

There was a moment of silence while the both of you seemed to mull the issue over.

“Well, then, how about we try something else?” Pansy said, her eyes glinting mysteriously. Your shuddering breaths paused for a moment as you looked up at her. Whatever she was planning couldn’t be good just by the look on her face.

“Er, what do you mean?” you asked, a bit of anxiety creeping up the back of your neck.

“If you can’t get him to stop in your own way…maybe it’s time to give him a taste of his own medicine.” She smirked wildly, her eyebrows rising above her bangs.

“You don’t mean—? Oh, no! No, Pansy! I’m not doing that. I can’t do that when I’ve shouted at him for doing it for so long!”

“Exactly,” she said. “You’ve asked him to stop repeatedly, but he’s not interested in discussion. He needs a threat.”

Despite the growing burning in the pit of your stomach urging you to accept her suggestion, you still felt horrible even considering it. Theo had never cheated on you; you just felt as though he was too friendly with other girls. But maybe Pansy was right. Maybe he wouldn’t understand how frustrating it was until he experienced it himself. It wasn’t like you were going to actually cheat on him. Maybe you could just talk to one of his friends and pretend to flirt. Just a little bit.

With the end of your free period growing closer, you decided you would make Theo jealous at dinner. You just had to decide who you would select to help with your antics.

***

Your eyes surveyed the Great Hall, flashing back and forth across the immense tables. Familiar faces glanced back at you in passing, their eyes aimlessly wandering as well. You couldn’t help but smirk just a bit, knowing your plans. Poor Theo had no idea what he was in for.

After weighing your options for a few minutes, you finally decided that if you really wanted to get to Theo, you needed to hit close to home—too close to home.

Your eyes locked on a familiar face you had often stared at, even before you got together with Theo. Mattheo Riddle.

A dark, brooding masterpiece of a boy. Truly, someone you’d be fawning over if you weren’t currently with Theo. But, saying that sounded like a broken record, considering how many girls and boys begged Mattheo for a second glance. You watched him closely, observing for a few moments.

His dark was clenched just a bit as he ran long fingers through his raven curls. It was entirely too much for you to watch…just looking at him had a bit of heat pooling in your stomach.

You couldn’t lie. In the few moments you’d forgotten about Theo and planned to make him jealous, the rose-colored glasses had come off, and the dark green ones had slipped over your eyes. Your chest was pounding, and it wasn’t for Theo at this very moment.

A prick of courage coursed through your veins and with a deep breath, you were moving quickly toward your target.

Enzo, Theo, and Mattheo sat at the edge of the Slytherin table closest to the Great Hall’s entrance. They gathered around each other, snacking and laughing. Mattheo sat on the table with his feet settled on the bench, Enzo sat just next to his legs on the bench, and Theo sat opposite Enzo. Maybe it was cheesy, but even Mattheo’s small rebellion of sitting on the table rather than the bench was calling your name. To not sound like every Gryffindor currently drooling over Mattheo, he really did have the perfect bad-boy vibe. He was like a sexy Muggle film.

Mattheo’s legs were spread with his elbows settled on his thighs—a dominating posture. His robe was settled over the edge of the table, and his tie was loosened, exposing a sliver of bronze chest and a singular chain dangling beneath the collar of his shirt. Merlin, this was sinful.

Theo caught your eyes and smiled brightly. He waved you over. That particular movement snagged the attention of Mattheo and Enzo—both of whom found your eyes and smiled in return. Maybe you were over-confident, but you could have sworn Mattheo had looked you slowly up and down as you approached.

Granted, you had changed up your outfit before coming to dinner. It was simple, but you were sure it’d get the job done with how it framed your figure and dipped down your chest. Your hair was styled, and Pansy had granted you her talent for makeup. You felt gorgeous, so you assumed you looked it.

Your wand was slid into the small decorative belt that came with the dress, and your hands were tightened behind your back in a sort of mock innocence. You smiled brightly, eyes only on Mattheo.

Completely ignoring Theo, you walked straight up to the two boys sitting before him. The both of them were looking you up and down now.

“Hey, Matty,” you giggled, stopping just before him. Smirking, he slid his arms around your waist and pulled you between his legs, your hips bumping against his core.

“Hey, baby,” he whispered. “You’re awfully bubbly this afternoon.” His voice vibrated against your ear, sending a violent chill down your back. You tried not to let your facade fall, but damn, he was good. You couldn’t tell if he was just playing along, seriously into it, or reading your mind. Who knew? Legilimency ran in his family.

“Baby?” Theo asked gently. You could just barely hear his voice past Mattheo’s warm body. “Matty?”

His poor, confused voice made your heart sink a little bit. You immediately felt bad. But this was for his own good. He was feeling what you felt every time he pulled this shit with other girls.

“I can’t help it,” you smiled. “I was excited to see you.”

“What the fuck? What did he do to get all the attention?” Enzo joked, smiling crookedly.

“Aw, but I was excited to see you too, sweetheart,” you cooed, leaning over Mattheo’s thigh to gently touch a finger to his chin.

“I think someone’s had a bit to drink,” Theo said sternly. You finally made eye contact with him. He was fuming. You swallowed nervously but ignored his threatening gaze. You were doing this for a reason.

“I’m completely sober, Theo,” you said blankly.

“You wanna go somewhere, mama,” Mattheo whispered against your cheek, his lips brushing your jawline. His arms were still wrapped tightly around your waist, his grip domineering and his scent overwhelming. Why did you want to say yes? Were you a bad person? You weren’t sure. This was a bad idea.

You giggled to avoid answering his question. Enzo’s eyebrow quirked at you before giving a glance to Theo.

“Well, I didn’t want to have to be the one to say this. But, personally, I feel that we are all close enough now to discuss these things.” Enzo nodded his head. “Have we truly ever considered the possibility of a foursome?”

Theo choked on his drink, Mattheo pretended to gag, and you gasped sharply.

“I’m just saying…it’s a valid question.”

“Enzo, shut up. Now.” Theo gripped his cup tightly, his knuckles bleeding white across his skin.

“Mattheo, take your fucking hands off of my girlfriend,” he said, turning to the man above you. “We need to fucking talk.”

His eyes never left yours as he pulled himself away from the table and walked toward the door. He didn’t even need to look back to know that you were trailing behind him with a half-defeated look on your face.

You were a bit frightened of the consequences of your actions, but you were certain that once you explained yourself, he’d be more understanding. You hoped.

Once the two of you were just past the doors of the Great Hall, Theo grasped your hand roughly, and, after being forced through a sickeningly tight tube with a loud suctioning sound, you were standing in Theo’s dormitory. You were a bit dizzy from Disapparating after not doing it for so long, but no amount of churning in your stomach could distract from the raging boy storming straight for you.

“What the fuck was that?” Theo shouted, forcing himself up against you. The pressure of his chest pushed you back up against the footboard’s bedpost. As the wood dug into your back, a gasp left your lips.

The way he looked down at you, fuming and jaw clenching, had you flushed ever so slightly. You didn’t know what it was, but his anger wasn’t pleasuring you as you thought.

An hour ago, you’d have assumed that you would feel amazing because of revenge. Not … something else.

“I was just…,” you trailed off, his eyes drilling holes through yours. Your hands wrapped around the bedpost behind you as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. “I wanted to make you jealous.”

His jaw ticked.

“You what?”

“I’m sorry,” you flinched at the volume of his words. “You’re always so friendly and touchy with all of your girl friends—I just wanted to make you feel the same way.”

“Feel what way?” he demanded.

“Jealous,” you whispered, embarrassed. Your eyes tore away from him and cast to the floor. Despite the confidence you’d had a few hours ago, you felt like the smallest woman in the world now.

“Jealous? You’re so pathetic,” he whispered, his voice suddenly soft and chiding. The word made a heat pool between your legs. Your lips parted in a silent gasp. You refused to look at him.

“Instead of just working through our argument earlier like adults, you thought it’d be a good idea to throw yourself on my friends to get a reaction out of me?”

“Well, when you say it like that—”

“Was it Pansy?”

“What?”

He sighed and clenched his jaw in frustration. “Did Pansy Parkinson put this stupid idea into your head?”

You looked down. You were too embarrassed to answer, but he knew. He scoffed and placed a surprisingly gentle finger beneath your chin. He tilted you up to look at him. His eyes were softer now.

“I know that Pansy is a bad influence on you, but you still have to be taught a lesson,” he murmured, his eyes ranging from soft and caring to lustful and mean.

“But, I–”

“Shut up,” he interrupted, voice stern as steel. “Don’t talk anymore, okay?”

Your lips snapped shut and, falling into an embarrassingly well-rehearsed routine, you nodded and forced yourself to keep eye contact with him. However, he had no issue doing so. His crystalline eyes never left your face except for one agonizing second when he dragged them down the length of your body.

You then forgot all of your previous endeavors and realized that Theo was going to have his way with you. He wasn’t more understanding, nor had you gotten your revenge. But none of that mattered right now. The heat pooling between your thighs had blurred all possible thoughts that might pass across your mind. The only thing you could see, smell, taste, hear, feel was Theo, Theo, Theo. You sucked in a shaky breath.

His fingers slid around your upper arms, pulling you closer to him. The way he touched you was gentle and slow—a precursor for the aggression that was to come.

“Turn around and bend over,” he whispered. His voice was nothing less than demanding. You couldn’t help but comply as if everything depended on your ability to follow his directions. Which, at this moment, it felt that way.

You turned and laid your torso across the length of his bed, tucking your arms beneath your chest. Your cheek lay against the satin comforter as your breath exited your body in short, shuddering pants.

“You deserve this,” he murmured. “You know you do.” His hands—so gentle—pushed themselves beneath the hem of your skirt. Your eyes clenched shut as your corse pulsated in time with your rapid heartbeat.

The tips of his fingers caressed the curvature of your bare hips. With your intent to seduce, you’d figured you better dress the part as well as act it. For exactly that reason, you’d worn no bottoms beneath the tight dress. You could hear Theo inhale deeply as a single thumb slid over wettened, hot folds. You gasped sharply at the sensation.

“You wanted this,” he growled. Honestly, you hadn’t considered this as one of the outcomes of your little venture, but you wouldn’t deny what you currently wanted. With a whimper, you nodded your head and pushed your hips back against him.

A small grunt left his lips as your ass came into contact with his core, already engorged and pulsing, just as you were. You concealed a smirk. Perhaps it was the false persona you had put on this evening, but your confidence shone through the room like a lightbulb.

“Very well,” he sighed. “You’ll get exactly what you wanted, you pathetic slut. The only way you can get what you want is to show your ass in front of all my friends, huh? You couldn’t just fucking ask?” With each rhetorical question, he tore another piece of clothing from himself. His anger radiated off of him.

“My advice, love?” He rolled the fabric of your dress over your ass, allowing the cool air to bite at your core. “Next time…just fucking ask me to ruin this perfect cunt.” He pushed into you with a relieved groan.

The lack of any preparation had you biting into his comforter. Perhaps no foreplay was your punishment, but he felt too good for you to complain about it.

His hands gripped your hips like a vice as he pulled you back onto him at a sickening pace. He hit every spot inside of you with a bruising force, so hard that your face slid back and forth across his slick comforter. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t keep a hold on the surface. Theo’s rage-filled thrusts knocked you loose from any grip you gained on his sheets like it was nothing.

“If you ever pull something like that again, I swear to Merlin, I’ll beat the fuck out of any man who touches you,” he breathed through ragged thrusts. “I don’t care if it’s Mattheo or Enzo or some random guy—I’ll fucking kill him.”

His words pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Shamelessly, you moaned his name as if it were the last thing you’d ever say. He looked like a god behind you with his hair stuck to his forehead and his lips parted, his sweat circled the air, his name tasted perfect in your mouth, his moans were glorious, and he felt perfect inside you. Again, Theo was all you could see, smell, taste, hear, and feel.

“Yeah, baby? Does that feel good?” he whispered to you, taunting you endlessly. “Who fucks you like this, huh?”

“You,” you whined, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I couldn’t hear you, baby. It sounded like you said Enzo. Was that right?” he cruelly teased you. His hand came down hard across the brunt of your ass cheek. “That’s what you fucking get. Now, who fucks you like this?”

“You!” you tried again, desperate to feel your release.

“Mattheo? Oh, you’re really trying me today!” he shouted, bringing his hand down against you again. You yelped beneath the bite of his hand. You could practically already see the handprint forming across your skin.

Theo suddenly grabbed your hair roughly and pulled you against his body. Your back was pressed to his front, and his cock was hitting a devastating angle inside of you.

“Who fucks you like this, bitch?”

“You, Theo! Fuck, nobody makes me feel like this! Theo, Theo, Theo…,” your voice trailed off pathetically as he pounded into you with a force like no other. You wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer.

One of his hands was wrapped around your stomach while the other remained tightly curled in your hair as he fucked up into you relentlessly. The coil in your stomach that only seemed to build when Theo handled you the way he did began to wind up in your stomach. Each thrust from the man behind you had it curling tighter and tighter, threatening to combust at any moment.

“Fuck, Theo, I’m gonna—”

“Yeah, baby? You’re gonna cum for me? Cum for me, baby…cum on my cock, sweetheart. Let me fill you up, darling. Please, baby, let me cum inside you. Make me a daddy, baby.”

And with those words, you were cumming against him harder than you ever had before. Honey spilled from you and coated his lower stomach and your thighs. The tension from your entire body locking up had Theo’s legs beginning to shake. Whispers of strained “fuck, fuck, fuck”s resonated throughout the room as Theo fucked himself through his orgasm. Just before you could protest at the overstimulation, he came into you, filling you up just as he had promised.

The feeling of every inch of his arousal overflowing from your core nearly made you needy all over again. You might've asked him for a round two if not for the overwhelming exhaustion that had just flooded your body.

Between the rapid pace he’d set and the abuse you’d taken from behind, the two of you were laid out. Both of you collapsed against his bed, chests rising and falling rapidly, beads of sweat dripping, eyes fluttering closed. You were sure you’d pass away if you attempted to move, so you laid completely still.

“How was that?” Theo asked, chuckling breathlessly. You refrained from rolling your eyes at his awkwardly-timed question.

“It was really good, you dummy,” you laughed, wiping a bit of sweat from your hairline.

“Good,” he whispered, rolling over to face you. “Because if you ever pull anything like that again, I’ll kill the man who touched you then I’ll fuck you in front of him.”

Merlin.

- - -

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[boneblushed]

Is it chill that you’re in my head?

synopsis your best friend James isn’t sure why he’s so angry about the fact that you’re going on a date with someone else.

wc 2.6K

“He’s looking over here,” James sings under his breath, his brown eyes full of mirth. He’s balancing on the spindly hind-legs of his library chair, the Potions essay he’s supposed to be doing laid out in disarray.

You send him a reproachful look. “You’re being malicious.” When you turn back around to face Davey Gudgeon’s table, there’s a split second of eye contact before he ducks his head down abashedly, his cheeks a brilliant rouge.

He has a crush on you, apparently. Sirius and Remus had overhead him talking about it on his way down to breakfast this morning—about how prefects rarely escaped unscathed after sharing something as intimate as a Saturday night duty.

James Potter, your best friend and a royal pain in your ass, finds this revelation abso-fucking-lutely hilarious for some reason. Asshole.

“Au contraire,” he murmurs, the grin on his face audible, “I’m being a world class wingman.”

The look on his face is downright dangerous. He waggles his eyebrows at you suggestively, unperturbed by the frown on your own, a warning. Easing forward until each hind-leg finds the ground with a resounding thud, he cups his hands around his mouth, whisper-shouting, “Oi! Gudgeon!”

Davey Gudgeon reddens further, a feat you didn’t think was possible until now. He glances over at James dismally, a furtive expression on his face. “What?” He mouthes, sending you this weak half-smile. It’s sort of sweet, almost contagious. You find yourself smiling back at him on instinct.

“Come over here, you bludger,” James chastises, like that’s the obvious next step. To be fair, it probably is to him — he’s never shied away from flirting with the girls he fancies, a self-proclaimed dating aficionado with way too much chat for his own good.

Davey hesitates, his nervous gaze flitting to you momentarily. He looks as though he wants to do just that, but isn’t sure whether his crush on you is reciprocated. Sweet.

He has gentle eyes, too, pretty juniper with bright specks of burnt ochre. A nice head of brown hair. If it was cold outside, you bet he’d offer you his Quidditch jersey without hesitation.

You think you need sweet, all things considered. You’ve known James Potter all of seven years now, had a wretched crush on him all of five, and never once has he indicated that his aforementioned expertise could ever extend to you.

It’s high-time that you gave your pathetic heart a rest.

“You’re making him miserable,” you mutter, ever-reproachful.

Davey hasn’t moved yet, though you’re sure he wants to, his hands braced on the table in front of him apprehensively. He keeps looking between you and James, surveying his options; in order ease his anguish, you decide you’d better make the decision for him.

You push your chair back and stand up, it’s spindly legs scraping against the vinyl floor forebodingly. James looks up in surprise. “Where r’you going?”

“To Gudgeon’s table.”

“Why?” James urges, perplexed. He half-stands too, his features a smidge less mirthful than before.

“So you’ll stop,” you reply, frowning down at him.

He raises his arms in surrender. “I’m stopping.” A pause. In the beat that passes, his assessing gaze falls over you in paces. “You’re not… you’re not keen on him too, are you?”

You think on this, cocking your head to one side. “I don’t know. Maybe? He’s kinda sweet.”

“But he doesn’t even have the balls to come over here and ask you out properly,” James whisper-shouts, mildly exasperated.

You’ve never once called him sweet.

He’s had this tragic crush on you for all of seven years, and never once has he been on the receiving end of such a fond adjective. He’d only made a fuss over this Davey situation because he was sure it was just a jibe — no way someone like you would be interested in a guy like Gudgeon, no way you would even entertain the possibility of more than friends.

Right?

James wants that more than friends thing with you, bad. This morning, when Sirius’d brought up Bludgeon’s crush on you—sniggering violently—he’d snuck a glance at your features to ensure that it wasn’t reciprocated. He’s sure he’d caught a bit of second-hand embarrassment, though maybe it was actually just tender hearted diffidence. Maybe Davey fucking Gudgeon had something that he somehow didn’t.

Right now, James’d give up his head boy badge and Quidditch captaincy to acquire that something. His chest hurts terribly. He runs his sloven fingers through his unkempt hair, sending you another look of bewilderment.

“Because you’re here,” you reprove. “Course he’s not going to come over when the James Potter is taking the mickey out of him.”

You say his name like it’s an insult. James’ heart plummets. “I’m not — he’s welcome to come over,” he argues quietly, chagrined. “Besides, he’s going to have to get used to me if he wants to be your boyfriend.”

“Why?” You frown. “I always bugger off when you’re with another girl.”

“That’s different,” James insists, frowning in tandem.

“How’s that different?”

They aren’t you, James thinks vaguely. His poor heart blunders for the umpteenth time this afternoon. “None of them are girlfriends.”

“Not for lack of trying,” you mutter. James swears he hears a hint of spite in your tone. “Doesn’t matter, anyway. M’going over.”

James slumps back into his seat reluctantly. He knows that you’re right, begrudging as that revelation may be — he is always flirting with one girl or another, though that’s more so to pass time than anything particularly serious. Never you. You’d see right through him, anyway. Besides, the last time he tried, it’d been so disastrous you’d assumed he was joking.

It’d been at that Halloween party they’d had in the Gryffindor Common Room last year, firewhiskey flowing and sweet treats piled atop every surface.

You were wearing this gorgeous, albeit bemusing, costume of a Muggle someone — Wonder Woman, or something, James didn’t quite understand it. Showing a lot of skin. Your pretty eyes were accented by rouge glitter, lips all glossy, and your exposed limbs and bare waist had eased his heart right into his throat.

And James Potter didn’t often find himself lost for words, but it appeared as though this party was one of those exceptions.

“Woah,” he’d murmured, wolf-whistling lowly. He was in this ridiculous, Babbity Rabbity costume (courtesy of Sirius, who was a cackling pot), feeling entirely out of place when you looked so beautiful. “Christ, Y/N, who’re you meant to be? The hottest muggleborn at Hogwarts or something?”

You’d rolled your eyes then, because no way he was serious. “Don’t tease, James. Did you guys manage to snag any cauldron cakes?”

He’d been too busy to insist his sincerity, fond gaze travelling down your bare limbs, slow. Lingering on the wafer of exposed waist between your corset and skirt. He’s still agonised by the want to touch your soft skin; that wretched Hogwarts shirt tuck has prevented this from happening.

“By the fire,” he’d answered after a beat, dazed.

And when you’d fallen out of earshot, James’ eyes still trained on your figure, Sirius and Remus’d come up behind him, the latter wearing Muggle-manufactured fangs. (Supposedly, he was meant to be a vampire.)

“You’ve got a tragic affliction, James,” Sirius’d tutted under his breath, faux-apologetic. “How’re you somehow able to flirt with every girl in this room except the one that matters?”

“Shut up,” he’d muttered back at the time, though as he thinks back on it now, he realises that Sirius was right.

For some reason, with you, he always manages to say exactly the wrong thing. He watches Davey scramble to straighten as you near his library table, the heat on his neck rising until his entire face is in a flush. And you’re smiling as you sit down beside him, this sweet, unabashed smile that looks too much like feelings reciprocated. Something in James’ ribcage cracks, an ugly emotion springing forth from within it. But he’s immobile, hands on the table and furrow in his brow, agonised by the fact that you’re looking at Davy all fond, not him.

Never him. You ask a question—James is trying his best to lip-read, but it’s difficult not to get carried away staring at your mouth. Davey nods, and then reddens some more. Then you stand up, feelings-reciprocated smile on your face as you walk back over to the table you’re sharing with James.

“He looks pleased,” James mutters grumpily.

You frown. “You don’t.”

“You’re doing charity work,” he answers, ignoring the insinuation. “You know that, right?”

“James,” you sigh, “you’re being unkind.”

“Because he’s punching.” But James knows this is unfair. He’s pretty sure every bloke in Hogwarts would be, if it was you and them.

—

“James,” Sirius calls, bemused. “You coming mate?”

Its autumn in Hogsmeade, and they’ve reached a cross roads.

The path to the left of them leads to the Hog’s Head Inn, one of their favourite haunts in the village due to its relative unpopularity. To the right, where James is glancing furtively, the cobblestone pavement takes them toward the Three Broomsticks. Where you are. With Davey.

Remus shares a knowing look with Sirius. “Think he’s in the mood for one of Rosmerta’s butter-beers, actually.”

James groans, scrubbing his calloused palm down his face slovenly. He knows exactly what he’s insinuating; Remus always has been the most astute of the lot. “Don’t bloody start.”

Sirius grins then, reaching for James and throwing an arm around his neck. “Reckon you’re going to need something stronger than butter-beer if you’re planning on watching Gudgeon snog your girl.”

His heart plummets. There’s that ugly emotion again, rearing its contemptuous head at him. “Wormtail’s there too,” he tries, shoving Sirius off. “We should go say hi.”

“Oh yes,” Sirius allows, his brown eyes full of mischief. “The one Marauder with a girlfriend. You after some tips, mate?”

“Cut him some slack, Sirius,” Remus chastises, though there isn’t much fire to his tone as he says it. “Reckon he’s miserable enough about the fact that the one time he fancies a girl she isn’t interested.”

James frowns, sending the pair of them a look of determination. “Look, shove off, both of you.” The crease between his eyebrows deepens further, keenly resolute. “I just want to check on her, alright? Make sure that bludger isn’t pulling anything funny.”

“Right.” Sirius nods soberly. “Or snogging her to death.”

“Fuck,” James groans again, his insides squirming. “You’ve gotta stop putting that image in my head.”

He turns toward the path to his right, the cobblestones plush with Autumn leaves, when he spots your figure in the distance and freezes. Coming closer. You look beautiful in this matter-of-fact, effortless way that makes James’ heart stutter; your pretty eyes are alight with mirth as you catch his gaze, this fond smile on your lips that makes him want to kiss you. Bad. He swallows thickly, his chest a pathetic mess.

Sirius and Remus must spot you too, because the pair of them beginning walking backward toward the Hog’s head, their eyebrows raised in tandem.

“She isn’t with the bludger, Prongs,” calls Sirius, a knowing lilt to his tone. “Now’s your chance.”

“My chance?” James asks, distracted.

“To snog her, you idiot.”

But James doesn’t hear him. Partly because the wind’s picked up, mostly because it’s difficult for him to concentrate on anything but your growing closeness.

Once you’re within earshot—more of you to agonise over, exposed waifs of skin like a siren song—he stumbles forward clumsily.

“Y/N,” James breathes out, pleasantly surprised. “Where’s Davey?”

You grimace, looking over your shoulder furtively. “I’ve just escaped him.”

James’ stomach deflates, relief washing over him in waves. He raises his eyebrows playfully. “Escaped?”

“Don’t,” you warn, frowning sternly. “He… he’s alright, really. Just doesn’t really know how to hold a conversation.” You grimace again. “Or take a hint. Like, at all.”

“Yeah? Why’d you say that?”

“Well,” you begin, and then you shiver, moving closer to James without meaning to. “Christ, Potter, you’re a really good wind shield, y’know that?”

“At your service,” he murmurs, inching forward too. “You were saying?”

You gaze up at him, the rough planes of his face ever present, and you’re struck by the revelation that he doesn’t need an old Quidditch jersey to keep you warm. He’s a furnace of body heat and cedar-wood cologne.

“Well,” you continue, voice low, “after two butter beers and absolutely zero chat, I’d sort of assumed that he’d have realised that this just isn’t going to work.”

“But…?”

“But,” you grimace, “he asked me out again.”

The way your features twist as you say it, as though that’s the last thing you want to do, wrings any residual jealousy he may be feeling right out of his stomach. He’s struck by this suddenly, overwhelming urge to caress your jaw and pull you closer.

“And let me guess,” James murmurs, grinning fondly. “You said yes.”

“I said I’ll see.”

“I worry all this charity work’s going to be the death of you, Y/N.”

You crinkle your nose up at him, punching his chest playfully. “Don’t you start James Potter.”

James raises his arms in surrender, still grinning. His gaze lifts above your head to take in the footpath behind you, and he finds himself looking right at the burly figure of Davey Gudgeon trudging toward the pair of you.

“Bloody hell,” he mutters, raising his eyebrows. “You weren’t kidding about him not being able to take a hint, huh?”

You furrow your brow, looking over your shoulder bemusedly. When your head whips back around to face him, your eyes are wide and a little tortured, dappled by the warm, orange hues of Autumn. A damsel, James’ thinks, dazed, as if that’s a normal thought for a eighteen-year-old bloke to have. He’s already spiralling over kissing you and it’s been all of five minutes.

“Is he looking over here?” You ask, your voice low.

James’ eyes dart back to Davey. “Uh, yeah?”

“Good.”

You wrap your arms around his neck hurriedly, leaning forward and pressing your lips against his. James takes a second to recalibrate, his poor heart a mess, but when he does, he’s quick to circle your waist and pull you closer, his strong arms firm and torso warm on your figure. It’s a deft kiss, chaste as it is agonising, though kiss enough for him to memorise the feeling. The buttery taste of your lips, the perfect way they appear to mould against his.

It’s a tandem emotion — you’ve revelling in this kiss far more than you should, the arduous pressure of James’ lips on your own. He’s going to leave a mark. He tastes like sugar quills and feels like the death of you, his sloven hands pressing into the bare skin of your waist.

When you do finally pull away, your cheeks are warm and you’re a little breathless. “S’he still there?”

A beat passes. James doesn’t look up.

You mistake his pause for unease, and grimace abashedly, looking away from him. In hindsight, you aren’t sure what possessed you to kiss him like that — you want to pretend it was to stave Davey away, but your traitorous heart says otherwise.

God, you think, it was a really good kiss. If only James liked it as much as you did.

If only you knew.

“Sorry,” you add in a hurry, still grimacing. “I — I wasn’t thinking, I just didn’t want Davey to come over here and I —”

“Y/N,” James interrupts, his voice rough, gravelly around the edges. “Stop talking.”

You let out a breath. “Why?”

“I want to pretend you kissed me because you wanted to, just for one more second.”

“What?” You ask, your eyes wide. “Why?”

James thinks, isn’t it obvious? He’s still marvelling over how perfect your mouth is.

“Because,” he admits quietly, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

You don’t know what to say to this. Your still chest to chest with less than an inch between your figures, and you can feel your poor heart struggling to free itself from its cage. “You have?” You say, suddenly bashful.

James nods. His pupils are a little blown, his unkempt hair a mess, and he keeps his gaze trained on your lips as though he’s being paid for it. “And listen,” he murmurs, reaching forward to thumb over them softly. “Don’t worry about Davey Gudgeon.”

“Why not, James Potter?”

“Because I’d sooner die than let that bludger bore my girl to death again.”

[verstappen-cult]

GWEN’S RADIO MESSAGE. I saw the notification and ran to Instagram only to find these photos. And when I tell you that I couldn’t stop looking at them for at least five minutes. . . so, you know I had to write a silly little drabble.

You come home after your early pilates class to find Charles snuggling with a puppy on the carpet in the living room, cushions perfectly scattered around to simulate a comfortable bed. When Charles sees you standing there with a puzzled look on your face, he just pouts, hugging the little dog tightly against his chest, and looks at you from beneath his eyelashes.

“What is that?” You ask, eyebrows raised. You know what is is, you simply don’t know what is a dog doing in your apartment when you don’t have any pets.

Charles cheeks are colored a light pink when he says, “Remember that time you said how much you wanted a puppy?”

“That was ages ago!”

“But look at him!” Charles grabs the puppy with both hands and shows him to you just like that scene in The Lion King with Simba being presented to all the animals in the kingdom. “Look at those eyes! We can’t send him back to the shelter.”

The dog isn’t even looking at you, too busy licking your boyfriend’s hand.

But Charles is right.

You can’t send him back to the shelter when you can give him a better life. And is not like you are actually mad that he decided to adopt a dog without your consent, it’s more about the surprise to see him lying on the carpet in his $2,000 white designer sweater with a dog, when in the past he’s gotten angry when you haven’t hung it up how it is supposed to hung.

You drop your bag and take off your shoes to join him on the floor. The little guy jumps from his hand and walks over to you, sniffing your hands and giving you side eyes until he feels safe enough to climb in your lap and let you hold him.

“Aren’t you cute,” You say, giving his little head a kiss. “I guess we need to give him a name, no?”

“About that,” Charles plays with a dog toy to avoid looking at you. “I already named him.”

You huff, “Of course you did.” You can’t be mad, not when Charles looks so shy and happy with the cute puppy walking around and exploring his new home. “What is his name?”

“Leo Leclerc.” He says it so proud, the corners of his mouth curling up that you can’t help but smile too.

“It suits him.” You agree, leaning closer to Charles. He immediately opens his arms for you and you rest your head on his chest, looking at Leo trying to climb on the sofa. “You’re a dog dad now, Charlie.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t asked you before adopting him,” He turns his head to get a better look at you. “and I’m sorry I used you wanting a puppy as an excuse when in reality I feel in love with him the second I saw him through the window.” Leo walks back to you and finds comfort between Charles legs. “I don’t want him to be just mine. I want him to be ours.”

You sit up, eyes looking between Charles and, what is now, your puppy. Your boyfriend looks expectantly, waiting for an answer that comes in the form of a squeak and a kiss.

“I can’t believe you went to get groceries and ended up adopting a dog.”

“About that,” Charles scratches the back of his neck nervously and you know what he’s about to say. “I saw him and forgot about everything else! But I can go to the grocery store this afternoon. He needs more toys, after all.”

“Oh, he’s gonna be so spoiled!”

[007reid]

187. spencer reid (18+)

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: you're dealing with a dumb, whiny boy and you are wondering where your boy genius went.

warnings: 18+, sub!spencer & dom!reader, dumbification, whining, whimpering, overstimulation, handjob, orgasm denial, begging..you know the rest ;)

a/n: this is a result of too much ai spencer tiktok edits....wrote in a rush on my phone late at night but that's how fanfiction are meant to be written. enjoy angels <3 requests are open if anyone want to drop by!

“okay spencer, this is an easy one. can you answer it for me baby?" you pause expectantly, and it takes him a while, but spencer only mewls in response, frustrated. "what states are next to louisiana?”

you see spencer’s eyebrows slowly pent up in thought but then he immediately gives up in lieu of letting out another pathetic moan, bucking up uselessly to your fingers. “answer the question baby," you prod sweetly, kissing your words into his cheek.

“i-hnfgg…” he pants breathlessly, eyes shut tight and when they flutter open, they are round with plead. “please, it hurts so bad, please let me cum i—“

you let go of his cock entirely and he whines, trying to shuffle closer so that you would touch him. in response you move away further, smirk at your lips. “be a good boy for me and i will.”

“i am being a good boy for you!” spencer whines, his eyes blown with need and watering, body writhing pathetically against the sheets. his dick is flushed an angry red and you know he’s only several strokes away from coming undone, being so closely attuned to your boy. “i’m being good i—“ his words hitched in his throat as you gently caress only the tip of his cock, teasing.

“the good boy i remember is super smart,” you slide up to him, pressing a leering kiss on his jaw. “the guy has an iq of 187. can you believe that? how rare is that?”

spencer doesn’t answer, his pleas and whines soft and stuck in his throat as he keeps trying to buck up his hips to get more of your touch, but with no avail. “hm? how rare is it spence?”

“i don’t know!” he cries, tears leaking and wetting his pretty lashes. “i—please it hurts so bad, just please let me cum i’ll do anything, please!”

“answer me and i’ll let you cum baby boy,” you say smoothly, removing your hand from him (which elicited a very impatient groan) to spit on your palm before going back again, moving your hand up and down his shaft deliberately slow. you know it drives him crazy, even crazier than he is right now and you soak in the satisfaction of it. “how many people has your kind of genius spence? hm?" you add encouragingly. "get this one right for me and i’ll let you cum baby.”

“i…uhh….” he's slow, and even slower with your hand working and overstimulating his already-sensitive cock. “one out of every hundred million people. 1000 who ever lived,” he finally decides to peel open his eyes again, searching your face for any hint of approval. as a response you flick up your wrist quickly and he nods his head back, an obscene and needy moan coming out of his mouth.

“and the states surrounding louisiana?”

his head snaps back immediately and stares at you in betrayal, like a kid being scammed out of his cookie, completely flustered and debauched. “you said one question!”

“i changed my mind baby,” you soothe, pressing an apology kiss in the corner of his mouth. “the faster you are the faster you get to cum. do you want to cum honey?”

“yes! yes i wanna cum so bad,” he cries, hands coming up to rest lightly at your waist and you can feel the tremble in them. the heavy feeling at the pit of his stomach has been there for at least half an hour now and you’ve just been toying with it, reliving it then bringing the pressure back. now he’s an absolute mess, curly hair sprayed on the pillow and stuck to his forehead, his pretty, delicate face ruined with tear stains, but it just makes him prettier. he’s completely at your mercy, writhing and whimpering and begging you to do something about his looming orgasm and you denying him of it.

“then answer the question baby boy,” you murmur encouragingly in his ear, fingers still teasing him. he’s so sensitive and overstimulated to the point that a single touch can make his entire body jump, so you are careful. too much and he might actually loose it, and you both know this. “you remember it, right spence?” you press, "the question?"

“hnngg,” he whimpers when you start biting on the lobe of his ear, grabbing and squeezing onto the sheets for dear life. “umm…arkansas and… i-i don’t know,” he admits shamefully, then desperately tries to make up for it. “but i got the first one! you said if i get it i could cum. i’ve been such a good boy for you, just this one time, please!” he begs, not in control of what he says anymore and it shows. he’s completely delirious and fucked stupid, and you take pity on him.

“aww, my sweet boy,” you coo sweetly, running your fingers through his messy mop of hair and pulling it away from his face for him. “i’m sorry angel, but if you can’t get it right, you don’t get to cum,” you whisper faux apologetically in his ear. you see when spencer’s eyes widen with horror, and the tears begins to fall freely.

“please,” he begs, his fingers pleadingly reaching out to try to touch you, convince you to change your mind. it’s a foolish and naive attempt, and he knows it too but can’t help taking his chances. he’s desperate for anything. “please, i’ll be so good for you. i’ll be your best boy. i promise. i swear. it hurts so bad y/n please, i cant take it—“

“fine,” you give in, only because you know for a fact that he can't last any longer. really, you're surprised he's managed to make it this long so far; you had already planned his punishment in your mind. your boy deserves his reward.

you speed up your movements and the sounds coming out of his mouth becomes wanton, sobs becomes louder and his whines a pitch higher and he’s strung high like a violin string, ready to snap. “cum for me, pretty boy.”

at your command his body gives out obediently, thick strings of cum spitting out of his cock, painting your hand and his hips, coating at his thighs. he twitches and his thighs tremble weakly as small blurts of cum starts to collect at the tip of his cock and you kiss him during all of it as he cries against your lips. he pants hard, and when you accidentally swipe a finger over him, he whines painfully and inches out the way, sore. when it’s over, he collapses into you, spent.

“thank you,” he says, sounding genuinely grateful, his voice muffled and his face buried in your shoulder. you laugh, fingers smoothing out the mess of his hair, pulling his head back and pressing kisses all over his face. spencer needs the aftercare, especially after being edged on for so long, needs the love and the assurance and the cuddles afterwards. "i love you."

"and i you," you say, smiling when he whines predictably, unsatisfied.

"you gotta say the whole thing," he says, looking mildly upset, lips jutting out and giving you the fattest, most foul and adorable pout, eyes big and searching.

"'m sorry," you weave your fingers with his, and he presses a kiss against your knuckles. "i love you."

[sincerelyneo]

promiscuous | l.jn

“i’m all yours, what you waiting for?”

💿now playing: promiscuous by nelly furtado, timbaland

❯ summary: Jeno’s more turned on than angry he thinks - it’s not everyday he finds out his girlfriend used to be a stripper and now all he wants from you is a lap dance. Right now. In his car.

❯ pairings: jeno x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, smut

❯ words: 3.7k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, mentions of drinking, lap dancing, stripping, car sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), dirty talk, thigh riding, semi-public sex, hair pulling, mentions of groping and shitty men, karina is reader's bsf, reader uses she/her pronouns, just jeno being smitten and in awe over his stripper gf.

“Did you see the look on his face when you said you had a boyfriend?” Karina chuckles from the backseat of Jeno’s car.

The joke isn't particularly funny, but it's the combination of alcohol buzzing through her system and the late hour that has her snickering and laughing as if she's a comedian. Jeno can’t help but crack a smile either, not because he finds her humorous; but because his heart swells with pride knowing you turned down another guy because you’re his girlfriend. 

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of saying that. 

“I know, he looked like he was about to piss his pants when he started apologising,” you add with your own cackle of laughter. “Priceless really, like a little dear in the headlights.”

Karina grins, leaning back into the middle seat. "I almost wanna feel bad for him, but then I remember he wouldn't take no for an answer until you mentioned Jeno."

You roll your eyes with a shake of your head, “That’s men for you.”

“Ugh! Tell me about it,” she rolls her eyes, “Men are so gross.”

Jeno looks through the rearview mirror and sees her scrunch her nose as a shiver runs through her body. “Hey now, I’m not gross.”

“Oh I know, Y/N tells us all about how cute the two of you are,” she sighs, “She’s managed to find one of the good ones, lucky bitch.”

You look over at Jeno when she says it, a smile on your face because she’s right. Lee Jeno’s the best boyfriend you’ve ever had. Just the right balance of sweet and smitten and passionate and protective. Even now, with one hand on the steering wheel and the other gently resting on your exposed thigh beneath your short dress, he had insisted on picking you up from the club even if it meant waiting up into the early hours of the morning. He just didn’t like the idea of you and your friend getting in a cab alone, drunk. Granted, you’re not that drunk, but Karina is. 

He is one of the good ones.

“You’ll find a good one too, Rina. You deserve it,” you assure her looking back to see her sitting with her arms folded across her chest. 

“Well wherever he is he needs to hurry up, honestly, I don’t know how much more I can take of shitty men chatting me up at the bar and trying to grope me. It’s nauseating.”

“They do that to you?” Jeno asks. You pull up to a red light and his eyes meet hers in the mirror.

“Sometimes,” she shrugs, “Honestly Y/N, I don’t know how you used to put up with it when you used to strip…” 

Karina's words trail off as she realises her mistake, her eyes widening in alarm. You go stiff in the passenger seat because you haven’t told Jeno about that. 

The jovial atmosphere in the car suddenly shifts, the air growing thick with tension as Karina's slip of the tongue hangs in the air like a heavy cloud. Jeno's grip tightens on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. His eyes flicker to the rearview mirror, catching Karina's wide-eyed expression, and there’s a silent plea for forgiveness in her gaze.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and a rush of panic floods through you. For a moment, the only sound in the car is the dull hum of the engine and the distant echo of traffic outside. Jeno's jaw clenches, but it’s not out of anger, you’ve seen him angry and this isn’t it. If anything you haven’t ever seen him like this, expression unreadable, and you don’t know whether that’s worse.

"You... used to strip?" His voice finally cuts through the heavy silence. 

Your breath catches in your throat, as you struggle to find the right words to explain yourself. You open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. There’s a weight of guilt and fear pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket.

Karina shifts uncomfortably in her seat, her earlier confidence replaced by a palpable sense of regret. She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out for her either. Her gaze darts between Jeno and you with a mixture of guilt and apprehension.

The remainder of the car ride was suffocatingly silent until the car pulls up in front of Karina's building, the engine cutting off with a final sputter. She hesitates for a moment, her hand lingering on the door handle as she glances between you and Jeno, unsure of what to say.

Eventually, she opens the door and lets herself out, but not before standing at the passenger window to mouth a small and apologetic. "I’m sorry.”

You manage a weak smile and shake your head, mouthing back a simple, “It’s okay.”

She nods, and she stumbles her way up to her apartment. Jeno waits until she’s safe inside and the door closes behind her before he starts driving off again. You can’t help but shift uncomfortably in your seat, stealing glances at him out of the corner of your eye. 

You can’t shake the feeling that he’s angry, furious even, at the revelation of your past. Guilt gnaws at your insides, twisting and turning as the car is quiet and his gaze stays fixed on the road ahead. 

You can’t bear the silence any longer, the weight of it pressing down on you. "Jeno, are you... mad?" you tread lightly, voice barely above a whisper.

Jeno's head snaps to the side until his eyes meet yours. They’re dark and intense but filled with more surprise than anger. And you’re caught off guard; because you could have sworn from the way he’s gripping the steering wheel, hard enough to cause a fire, he would have been at least a little annoyed.

A slow smirk starts to spread across his lips, gaze now burning and it sends shivers down your spine. "Mad?" he echoes, "No, Y/N... not mad."

A wave of confusion washes over you, your mind reeling at the unexpected response. But before you can process his words, he’s pulling over at some random side of the road to lean in close to your ear. His breath is hot, and he whispers, "Actually, I'm pretty turned on."

You move away from him, back hitting the car door, “Really? You’re not upset…?”

“Well…” he shrugs, “I’m upset that you didn’t tell me—”

“I didn’t want you to look down on me, or be embarrassed of me,” you cut him off, the urge to guard yourself getting the best of you.

Jeno sighs, and he notices the way your voice shakes as you defend yourself. He doesn’t understand why you’re even doing that – you don’t have to prove anything about yourself to him �� he loves you as you are, past and future included. 

“You didn’t let me finish,” his fingertips grip your chin, “I’m upset I made you feel like you couldn’t trust me to tell me that.”

“I just didn’t want you to judge me is all,” you look down, voice going quiet. 

“That what you think I’d do?” He asks, planting a kiss on your cheek, and to his pleasure, it snaps your eyes up to him. “I’d never fucking judge you, baby, I already think you’re perfect… and I suppose knowing you used to strip is kind of a bonus.”

You laugh, shaking his hand from your chin, “Shut up.”

“I’m serious, do you know how hot it is knowing my girlfriend used to be a stripper?”

His tone is too calm for your liking. You had often imagined how Jeno might react about learning of your past as a stripper, and you don’t know why, but you had always prepared for him to be angry. You weren’t expecting this, him being so touchy and needy and – well – horny. 

“I’m serious, Y/N.” He scrapes his teeth across his bottom lip as he flicks a glance up to the roof of his car. When his eyes fall down to yours, they’re dangerous. “I’m getting hard just thinking about it.” 

You push at his chest playfully, “Stop it Jeno.” 

“Were you any good at it?” he asks tensely.

“We’re not doing this,” you laugh, shaking your head. 

He groans - it’s more of a whine. “Come on humour me, please baby.” 

You jut your jaw and roll your eyes. “Fine, I suppose I was pretty good.”

He lets out a dark huff of breath. Leaning back in his seat, he strokes his chin and runs a slow, all-seeing eye up your thigh and then over your chest. By the time it rests on your face, all of your nerve endings are on fire, lungs unable to keep up with your tense breaths.

“Show me.”

Your eyes widen, “What?” 

“Show. Me.” He repeats, expressionless.

There’s a chill that drifts through you. His face is completely void of humour, but there’s no way he can be serious…right? 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you straighten your spine, mustering your best look of indifference as you fix him with a piercing stare. “We’re in public.”

“We’re in my car, and it’s dark.” 

You swallow, “You want me to strip here?” 

He nods. 

“There’s no room.”

He reaches down beside his seat, and with a soft touch, it reclines, creating a large space between his knees and the steering wheel. He always has an answer to everything. You let out a ragged breath, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

"Jeno, I can't just strip for you—" you begin, your voice trailing off as he interrupts you.

"Oh, so you'll strip for random men, but when I ask, it's a problem?" 

You bite the inside of your cheek, meeting his intense gaze. "You're serious?"

"Deadly.”

"Fine."

The click of your seatbelt echoes in the quiet car as you rise, sliding into the gap in front of him, facing the windshield. He lets out a low groan, his hand finding purchase on your waist, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins.

As you slowly lower your body, the denim of his jeans rustles against the backs of your thighs. You shift your ass forward to his knees and arch your back. Your hands tremble, partially because you haven’t done this for years but also from the heat of his impatient gaze on your skin as you tease the straps of your dress down your shoulders.

With deliberate movements, you shift your hips, slowly, sensually. Your body sways in time to an invisible rhythm and you feel your lust and adrenaline rise.

His fingers glide along the contours of your back, and suddenly, an irresistible urge seizes you – to see the expression etched onto his face. It's a novel sensation, one that contrasts sharply with your previous experiences. In the past, when you danced, you avoided eye contact with patrons, but this is different; this is Jeno, your Jeno.

You decide to peer over your shoulder, and when you do you don't break eye contact with him. Taking a deep breath you slide the dress over your body, his gaze follows your every movement. From your ankles to the strip of your black underwear, his eyes trace your curves with a hunger that has your core setting a light. There is not a single trace of sweet Jeno left in his irises - the man looking back at you is hungry, needy.

Letting the fabric fall to the pedals, you lower yourself back onto his lap. The warmth of his thighs against your bare skin sends a delicious shiver down your spine, and you can't help but arch your back as you roll your hips, feeling the heat building between you. Soft fabric brushes over your clothed cunt and it makes your mouth water.

Holding onto the steering wheel, you arch your back and roll your ass into the direction of his groin. The guttural sound of his grunt is so animalistic it sends a shock of pleasure straight to your clit. You push further, sliding back until the tip of his swollen cock brushes against your ass. The realization of just how hard he is through his jeans sends a thrill coursing through your veins that triggers a wet heat to pool in your panties. 

Your heart pounds in your chest as you move, each roll of your hips driving you closer to the edge from the brush of his growing erection. His ragged breathing fills the car, and when his rough fingers slide beneath your panties, the snap of elastic meeting skin elicits a moan from your lips.

"Can't believe you'd wear panties like this, in that dress, when I wasn't there," he grunts, his voice thick with desire.

Gasping for air, you tilt your head back, your breaths coming in short gasps. "Shut up," you manage, but your voice still trembles with need.

He laughs, before returning his hands to your waist. "Turn around for me, baby. I want to see your face."

Too breathless to refuse, you rise on shaky legs and turn to face him. And when you meet his gaze, you're unprepared for the intensity you find there. It's a stare so intense it's almost violent, burning as it trails over your body over your thighs and stomach. You’ve had plenty of sex with Jeno and the way he studies your body so carefully will never not leave you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

“Prettiest fucking girl in the world,” he mutters the words more to himself than to you, but still, you shudder beneath the weight of them.

You grip the back of his headrest and slowly lower yourself onto his lap. Jeno leans forward to meet you. His hands, hot and greedy, slide behind your back to steady you. A smile tugs on your lips as you roll your hips against his throbbing cock just enough to wake up your clit — not that you needed to. Then, his fingers slide underneath the band of your bra and he looks up at you through his thick lashes. 

The snap as he drags his thumb out from underneath the band sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your pussy, and you can't help but arch your back in response. His eyes roam over your body, tracing the line of your throat before settling on your lips.

"I want to take this off," he murmurs, his voice low and teasing.

"That's not how lap dances work, silly," you giggle, a smile playing on your lips.

Another animalistic groan comes from him forcing your pussy to clench around nothing. Your fingers dig into his headrest, and his raspy breaths tickle the dip of your chest. You rake your teeth over your bottom lip as his fingers find the base of your hair to yank your head back.

"You take it off then," he growls, his voice thick with desire. "I just want it gone. Now."

With a mischievous grin, you slide your bra off, tossing it in his direction. As it lands on his face, you see a slow breath escape his parted lips, tension tightening the line of his shoulders as his hungry eyes take in the sight of your bare breasts. His eyes trail over your curves, the hunger in his gaze almost palpable as he flexes his biceps, adjusting his hands behind his head.

"Don’t let me stop you," he murmurs cockily.

Your pussy throbs with anticipation as you lean back, gripping his knees as you rock your hips forward once more. One particularly hard roll of your hips elicits a moan from deep within you, the friction building with every movement.

"You're so wet, baby. I can see you soaking through your panties," he whispers

Flustered, you whimper in response, his gaze sliding down to where your panties meet his jeans.

"Can I pull them to the side?" 

You're too lost in the moment to argue, too caught up in the pleasure and the heat between your thighs. So you nod, permitting him to slide your panties to the side as you grind hopelessly against his leg. Your body is flush and sweaty yearning for him, craving more pressure every time your clit brushes against his bulge. 

“Fuck,” he whispers close to your ear. 

Your hands slide between his bent elbows and your fingers lock behind his headrest; allowing you to have a better position to grind down on his body with even more fervour.

“You’re gonna cum on my thigh aren’t you?”

You're consumed by heat and desire, completely hot and desperate, and the windshield is now fully fogged up as a result. Lost in the throes of pleasure, you're unable to respond to him, but words are unnecessary. He can see the way your eyes clench shut with each roll of your hips, an expression of pure ecstasy. It's all the encouragement he needs to take action, flexing his thigh beneath you.

The sensation overwhelms you, causing you to buckle under the pressure against your clit. Unable to contain yourself, you sink your teeth into Jeno's bicep and he hisses. But you can't help it because waves of pleasure wash over you as you ride out the orgasm that courses through your body.

After what feels like an eternity of bliss, your high begins to ebb, and you find yourself melting into his chest, spent and content.

It's only when the intensity of your climax subsides that you snap back to reality. Neither one of you has moved – you’re just attached to eachother, panting heavily that you might as well share the same breath.  The sensation of Jeno’s cock poking your ass is still tangible, and even though you are practically exhausted from the intensity of the orgasm he just gave you, you figure it’s only fair to return the favour.

Your gaze remains fixed on his as you reach down to fumble with the buckle of his jeans. He offers no assistance, his eyes entirely focused on you. After all, this is your show, and you get to call the shots. 

You free his cock from his boxers, skipping the rest of his clothes in your eagerness to please him. His hands find your waist as yours find his shoulders, and you revel in the satisfaction of his eyes fluttering shut as you sink down onto the entirety of his length. 

He hisses in pleasure, unable to resist a teasing remark. "You know, for someone who was so hesitant to strip in public, you sure don't mind taking my cock in public."

"It's dark, and we're in your car," you retort, satisfied with your quick comeback. 

But before you can say more, he thrusts his hips, driving his cock deep inside you, where he belongs.

You feel every edge of him as he pounds into you, knotting your stomach and causing you to tighten your grip on his shoulder. The force of his thrusts threatens to push you back against the steering wheel, but you manage to hold on, whining in pleasure as he mutters curses under his breath.

"You always feel so good for me, baby," he coaxes, his hand tangling in your hair and pulling it back to expose your neck.

You hum in agreement, shamelessly lost in pleasure as he peppers your skin with wet, open-mouthed kisses. You pant like there is no oxygen left in the car as his thrusts become sharper and more reckless.

“Fuck Jeno.” 

You gasp, feeling his grip on your waist tighten in sync with the coil of pleasure in your stomach. He pushes you down to nuzzle into his neck, eliciting a cry from you at the angle. He takes your hands from his shoulders and locks them behind your back, giving him full control to drive every inch of him deep inside your pussy.

“Shit..” you whimper into his neck. You can feel his lips against your jaw, nicking it with his teeth. 

“Take it, baby.”

The restriction of your hands paired with his powerful thrusts have you completely submissive to him - which is funny considering you were supposed to be putting on a show for him. He uses his hold on your arms to pull you back and forces you to look at him. 

“Wanna see your face when you cum pretty girl.”

He knows your body so well because you’re at the beginning of your second round of bliss. His forehead falls lazily to your collarbone as he kisses the skin, sending trembles down your body and causing your mouth to fall open as you meet the edge. 

And your whimpers only spur Jeno on, as he rocks you through your orgasm, his own release not far behind. He shakily moans out your name with heavy breaths, his pace staggering as you both climax together. Both your stomachs jitter from the stimulation and your chests huff until your bodies shake with the intensity of the pleasure.

As you come down from your high, you feel Jeno's final thrusts, his eyes squeezed shut and sweat glistening on his brow. The collar of his shirt is damp with exertion, and his tongue pokes out at the side of his mouth as he catches his breath.

You’re like a limp puddle too, but Jeno stays clung to you, your sweaty bodies tangled in one other. Then, you slip off of him and drop into the passenger seat, tugging on your bra and dress that were previously disregarded on the car’s floor.

Jeno fixes his jeans as you dress. Then he starts toying with the car’s keys and revs the engine. As the car comes to life, the headlights glow yellow and the radio picks up. His warm, firm hand finds your thigh as you fasten your seat belt and glance up at him.

"From now on, every time we have sex, you owe me a lap dance."

 "Shut up," you say with a scoff of laughter.

“I'm serious," he insists, " We gotta make up for lost time since you kept the fact you're a sexy ass stripper hidden from me."

[dumbseee]

prom queen.

when bakugo wants to invite you to prom, but doesn’t know how to do it.

bakugo katsuki x fem!reader.

warning: bad english/grammar :p / excuse any typos!

_

"just go for it! she won’t say no!" mina encouraged her friend, smiling from ear to ear after kaminari let it slipped that bakugo wanted to invite you to prom. the poor boy did his best to not meet the glaring gaze of his friend. "forget about it! i don’t know why dunce face said that, it’s not true!" he yelled, throwing a pillow at mina. "liar! i knew you liked her! do you think you’re slick with the way you look at her during class or training? you even proclaimed yourself her male partner for training, you don’t even let another boy approach her." she crossed her arms on her chest, looking at her friend with a knowing smile. bakugo was burning up and could feel the palm of his hands starting to sparkle from the sweat. as he was about to explode in the dorm’s living room, another voice calmed him instantly.

"we’re here!" you said, arms full of shopping bags and followed by momo and jirou. mina jumped off the couch and ran to them, while bakugo kept his eye on you the whole time. you looked so beautiful, with your hair styled in a high ponytail you even put some light makeup on and damn you looked so good. "oh my god! you went to buy your dresses for prom?" mina asked and you nodded, you seemed to notice the burning gaze of bakugo on you since you turned to look at the three men sitting on the couch. you lifted your hand to wave at them and only bakugo ignored you, turning his gaze away from you and back on the tv. you frowned and bite your lip, you didn’t know why bakugo was this way with you, you were convinced that he hated you. mina brushed it off and dragged you and your friends to her dorm so you could show her the dresses you brought.

prom was tomorrow and you still haven’t got anyone to go with you. of course, you had a lot of people asking you to go with them, and they were cute guys, but you always said no. why? because you were still waiting for someone to ask you for prom. "hey, y/n! can you help me take these boxes back to the storage room?" iida asked you, snatching you out of your reveries. "oh? yes, of course!" you smiled at him, making the class rep blush slightly, you got up and took the boxes on the ground, you started walking towards the exit, thinking that iida was following you. "i think we did a great job with the decorations, don’t you think iida?" when he didn’t answer, you frowned and turned around to look at him, you almost dropped the boxes on the ground when you saw bakugo, instead of iida, holding the boxes and walking behind you. "bakugo?" you asked, slowing down your pace. the blond swallowed before looking away, a slight pink colour colouring his cheekbones. "four eyes had other things to do." he mumbled and you nodded, you didn’t want to ask more questions and make him angry, he seemed pissed off enough to be around you and having to carry those boxes. "are those heavy?" you were surprised that he spoke up again, you turned to look at him, a questioning look on your face. "i’ll carry them for you." he simply said, carrying his boxes on his right hand to scoop yours with his left. "i-it’s too heavy! let me help!" you tried to snatch back your boxes but he dodged you with ease.

"hey y/n!" a new voice stopped you from voicing your concern again, you turned to face the person calling you and it happened to be awase. you couldn’t see it but bakugo’s grip on the boxes had tightened as he glared at the boy who ran to you, he was blushing and seemed extremely uncomfortable. he tried his best to avoid bakugo’s gaze but it was hard and the blond’s aura was suffocating. "u-um, are you b-busy? i wanted to ask you something." he was fidgeting with his hands while looking away. "for now i’m helping my class decorate the ballroom for prom, and i’m going to the storage room with bakugo, is it important?" bakugo knew where this was going, he wasn’t dense and could read the room. if it was anyone else, he’d have left the scene immediately, but it was you. and ain’t no way is he letting you go to prom with this idiot. "kinda, i was wondering if you had someone to go to prom with?" he rubbing the back of his head and finally made eye contact with you.

you smiled at the boy, your heart tugging a little when you thought about the fact that the boy you wanted to go to prom with was standing behind you, probably cursing you out because you were wasting his time. you signed softly before smiling at awase, about to accept his offer, even though you really didn’t want to. when all of a sudden, you felt a strong arm wrapping around your shoulders. you looked up, and blushed furiously when you saw bakugo, looking straight at awase with that hard expression on his face. "she’s going with me, now scram before i make you fucking explode." he spat, not once looking at you. awase left in a hurry, blurting out apologies. "thanks, but you didn’t have to do that." you said, a sad smile on your lips, now you had to go to prom alone while all your friends would go with their crushes. bakugo looked at you, lifting up one of his brow. "you didn’t have to pretend you were going with me, you know." you looked down and the blond lifted up your face with two of his fingers, making you blush again. his face was now inches from yours and you didn’t know where to look, his lips looked soft but his red irises were so beautiful from up close. "you’re going with me to that stupid prom, pretty girl." he whispered, your eyes widened while he grinned at you, taking a step back and walking towards the storage room.

of course, bakugo made sure to walk in front of you so you wouldn’t be able to see his red cheeks and how he was trying to catch his breath.