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#the bad shit still comes through regularly

sttoru · 8 months

Text

𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 .

⟣ sypnosis. a nightmare of your lover’s disappearance wakes you from your sleep.

⟣ tags. gojo satoru x female reader. angst, comfort, fluff. takes place after gojo’s unsealed but before dec 24th, bits of spoilers jjk leaks 236 at the end. mentions of death, blood.

⟣ note. based on it’s happening again by agnes obel. coping rn dhmu . . . not proofread bcs i cant read through my tears anyways hope u enjoy im gonna cry myself to sleep now

everyone has to die at one point — not even the strongest of all could avoid that tragical fate. not even the strongest sorcerer you call your lover.

no, not even him. the universe couldn’t spare him. you thought that maybe, it would. maybe fate wouldn’t apply to him. oh, how wrong you were.

blood splatter—a stream of red liquid. right at your feet. right in front of your eyes. a man in half. and not just any regular man;

“satoru !”

your dark surroundings become blurry with tears, your body jolts out of its current dreaming state. you could feel your heart in your chest—in your throat. your brain shut itself off for a few seconds as your eyes try to make out shapes and figures in the room you’re in. your bedroom.

you only then realises that it was all just a gruesome nightmare. a hyperrealistic one at that; one that will haunt you for years.

“hmmh.. ‘m right here, baby.” a groggy voice next to you replies to your yell in agony. the yell that was the shape of your lover’s name leaving your lips—

you instantly turn your head to the right and there he was; the man whom just met death in your dreams. gojo satoru, all alive and well. in your bed, in your presence, in your life.

satoru’s hand aimlessly pats the space next to him in search of your body whilst he rubbed his eyes with the other, trying to adjust his sight to the dark so he could find you. you seemed to be in complete distress. which he does not like.

“it’s okay, shh, shh,” your lover hums, hand finally finding your arm. he doesn’t hesitate to pull you on top of him—your head laying on his chest.

his body was warm. his heartbeat was there. loud and clear in your right ear.

“satoru. . .” a river of tears flows down your cheeks like a dam that has been broken into. your body trembles, lungs feeling like they couldn’t get any air in them from how hard you were sobbing. the pain of losing your loved one; it all came flowing back to you.

satoru frowns, “hey, hey. look at me — sweetheart, c’mon.”

he instantly sits up and pulls you along with him. his hands find your cheeks, tilting your head up. this time it was his turn to feel his heart break in pieces. you looked absolutely distraught. as if you just went through a traumatic experience of some kind. he hated it.

“shit,” satoru mutters under his breath before pulling you into his embrace again, arms circling your waist with his head buried in the crook of your neck, “it’s okay, i’m here now. you’re safe.”

it wasn’t the first time you had nightmares when he was with you. you had them regularly after satoru had gotten sealed in the prison realm for nineteen days—nineteen days of dread for you. of an empty bed, an empty house and an empty life.

when satoru had finally been released from the prison realm it was like a dream come true. a happy dream, that is. not those repetitive, bad ones you have every now and then. you still get those nightmares of your lover being either taken away from you by force or by death itself. your brain couldn’t give you a break — even after his return.

“take a deep breath in,” satoru instructs and sets an example by doing the breathing exercise with you, “hold it for three seconds . . . breathe out for six. mhmm, good—jus’ like that.”

you repeat it a couple more times, sobbing and shaking throughout the entirety of the exercise, but eventually manage to calm down a little. satoru sighs in relief at this;

“you okay, baby?”

you nod weakly and sniff, wanting nothing more than to be held by the man you thought had vanished from your life forever. you had that scare once, when he was sealed, and you never want to go back to those dark times. ever.

“it’s— i, just—“ you hiccup once, unable to complete entire sentences, “i thought you w-were gone. i thought you had died.”

it was silent after that (except for the sound your silent sobs and sniffles). satoru had guessed by now that you saw him die in your dream — that much was pretty obvious. but, the thought that you were this distressed because of it makes him. . . happy in a way.

happy that someone would mourn over him at least.

“well,” satoru pensively replies, hands rubbing your back up and down soothingly, “everyone has to meet their end one day, you know?”

that sentence was one that was meant to lighten up the grim mood somehow. one of his many lighthearted remarks that were supposed distract you from your tears. it would work during other moments like these — were you’d be too baffled by the things satoru says to care about what you were crying for — yet today it only worsens your misery.

“shut up.” you weakly punch his chest to which the white haired male chuckles softly, his slender fingers instantly interlocking with yours. satoru’s thumb brushes against your wrist before pulling it up to his lips, placing ticklish kisses among your skin.

another silence hangs in the air.

“seriously though. . . if i were to somehow die, i’d want you to live and move on, yeah?” your lover whispers in such a quiet tone that it was almost inaudible. satoru had looked death right in the eye before — he didn’t care back then if it were actually his end.

he does now. he has the world to lose — his world — his everything. you.

satoru wants to live a happy life with you. he doesn’t want to die now that he has you. the love of his life which he wants to grow old with. maybe have kids with. start an own family away from the busy streets, away from the swarming curses in the city and away from all that sorcerer stuff. it was a nice dream.

“shut it!” you huff and satoru takes another weak punch to the chest. his gaze lands upon your tear struck face and he instantly drops the serious ‘act’.

the sorcerer laughs, his usual boyish laugh that makes you feel better, and he flips you both over so that he has you pinned underneath him. satoru grins before kissing your tummy all over, making you giggle from the ticklish feeling;

“i’m playin’, baby! i’m not going anywhereeee!” he promises through wet pecks against your skin, the smile on his evident even if you couldn’t see it — you could hear it in his voice.

satoru leaves your tummy and moves on to your neck and face. he was smothering you in affection in hopes you’d cheer up some way. he just wants you to forget about anything bad happening to him. you didn’t deserve to think about all that stuff — you deserve to be happy and full of joy.

even without him one day.

“i’d never leave my princess all alone.” satoru shakes his head and pouts dramatically, “who else is gonna spoil you? or kiss and cuddle you to bed, huh?”

you finally show an ounce of joy. a tiny smile. that was all satoru had needed to see. he wasn’t going to stop there, however. his goal was to turn that small smile into a full blown fit of laughter.

“i’m one of a kind, baby. you’re never gonna meet a man like me.” he continues with a proud grin, putting all of his body weight on top of you which causes you to groan and grumble a lighthearted complain.

satoru knows you like it whenever he clings to you and thus he uses that piece of knowledge to help you feel better. his head was buried into your shoulder, limbs enveloping your body like a koala.

“whatever.” you roll your eyes and snuggle up to your lover, closing your eyes as the tiredness hits your body after all that crying.

“whatever !” satoru mocks you in a high-pitched tone, followed by a pair of giggles from the two of you. a third and final punch to the chest finally shuts him up for the rest of the night.

the sorcerer made sure you had fallen asleep first before he whispered the next words in your ear, hoping they’d calm your mind and body so that no nightmares would ever bother you again;

“don’t you worry, sweets. i’m not leaving you. ever.”

. . .

those were the same exact words satoru wished he could utter to you one last time before the current date — 24th of december.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk fic #jjk fluff #jjk angst #gojo x you #jjk x you #gojo angst #jjk comfort #jjk spoilers

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punkshort · 2 months

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i know who you are | 5. the dinner

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Everything seems perfect until it all unravels. Emotions come to a head and the big lie is revealed.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, pining, alcohol use, eating, flirting, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, minor infidelity, one use of 'daddy', big ol' emotional argument (lots of mean and hurtful things get said)

WC: 9.5K

Series Masterlist

By some miracle, you didn't end up getting sick, although it took most people in town a full week to recover from the flu. The infirmary was packed every day and Nick regularly expressed his endless gratitude that you chose to work for him. Maria and Tommy isolated as best they could in their home out of fear their daughter would get sick. When the townspeople slowly began to recover, they were itching to do something, so they decided to host a dinner.

One thing you hadn't done in ages was bake. You used to do it often, something you found rather soothing and rewarding long before the world went to shit, so you decided to make something to bring to dinner. After exploring your pantry, you discovered you had the right ingredients to make a simple pie crust, so you got to work mixing and rolling out the dough, getting so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even hear Joel walk through the front door.

When he heard you working away in the kitchen, he walked softly towards the entryway and leaned against the frame to admire you. He crossed his arms and smiled to himself when he saw the bits of flour smeared across your cheeks and your hair a little disheveled, your appearance not a concern to you as you worked.

It was the sweetest thing he had seen in a long time. He almost felt bad when you suddenly sensed his presence and looked up, disrupting your flow.

"Don't mind me," he said with a smirk before strolling over to the table to sit. "Whatcha up to?"

"Making a pie," you told him as you pinched some flour between your fingers and scattered it over the counter. You picked up the sticky ball of dough and sprinkled that with a bit of flour, as well, before grabbing the rolling pin. "Thought it would be nice to bring something with us tonight."

Joel nodded and picked up an apple from the bowl on the table. "That's nice of you," he said before taking a bite, "I'm sure they don't expect us to bring anythin'. They're just bored outta their minds and lookin' for someone to play with their kid for a while."

"Hey! I need those!" you scolded when you heard the crunch. He paused his chewing and looked down at the apple in his hand before stretching his arm out to you with a grin.

"Here you go," he said, mouth full. You laughed and shook your head before focusing on the dough once again.

"Keep it," you said, "I'll still have enough."

He leaned back in his chair and watched you diligently roll the dough out until you achieved the level of thickness you desired and then laid it gently in a buttered pie pan.

"Can you help me peel?" you asked when you came over to grab the bowl from the table, and he couldn't resist reaching out to dust away the flour from your cheek. You looked at him in surprise and he gave you a small smile.

"'Course I'll help," he said, standing up to grab two knives from the drawer. After giving yourself a moment to recover from his unexpected touch, you joined him at the counter, placing the bowl between you both as you began to peel in a comfortable silence. It had been almost two weeks since you saw Ben outside the tailor, and although you always looked for him whenever you walked to and from work, you never crossed paths with him again. You had been hoping to corner him to try to get more information before confronting Joel, but you had no such luck. So, with a deep breath, you cleared your throat and focused on your apple before speaking.

"Joel?"

"Hm?" he replied, his brows pinching together as he carefully worked his knife around the apple in the palm of his hand.

"Can I ask you a question?" you asked as your pulse began to thrum faster in your throat.

"Sure," he said, still laser focused on his task.

"Who are the Fireflies?"

His hand slipped and he dropped the apple and knife, pulling the pad of his thumb into his mouth with a hiss. You gasped when you saw a few drops of dark red blood on the cutting board and put your knife down before grabbing a somewhat clean towel and handing it to him.

"Is it bad?" you asked, taking a step forward to try and see his injury before he wrapped it in the towel. He shook his head.

"Nah, I'll live," he said, studying the cut for a second before applying pressure again.

Still, you rushed to the linen closet to grab the first aid kit and brought it downstairs. "Rinse it under the water," you instructed him before opening the bag and rifling around. He did as he was told and watched you pluck out a bandage and a small bottle of antiseptic. "Show me," you said, and he held his hand out to you so you could examine the cut. He studied you up close while your attention was focused on his thumb, taking in every feature on your perfect face and inhaling your familiar, comforting scent while you bandaged him up. If this was what it took to get you close to him, then he was ready to injure himself every damn day.

"You're good at that," he murmured, flexing his thumb when you were all done. "Learnin' a lot from Nick?"

You packed up the first aid kit, avoiding his heated gaze. "Yeah, I guess so," you said, turning back to your apples. Ever since Joel caught the flu and you helped nurse him back to health, it felt like there was a shift in the air between you. He was more brazen with his touch, like when he wiped the flour from your cheek, and while you never asked him not to touch you, your feelings for him were complicated. Until you could figure it out, you had been trying your best to not allow yourself to get caught in his orbit.

It was proving to be more difficult than you expected.

"Why don't you go sit down, I can finish these up," you said, your eyes cast down on the apples. You felt him regard you silently for a moment before he pushed off the counter and went back to his spot at the kitchen table. It was obvious what he was doing. It was the exact opposite of what you were doing. He was trying to create a charged moment, and you were trying to avoid them.

"You didn't answer my question," you said, and his energy immediately shifted.

"Where'd you hear 'bout the Fireflies? From Ellie?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. You looked up at him, confused.

"Ellie? No," you replied, shaking your head. "I ran into Ben a few days after our visit. He thought you had already told me about them and seemed a little skittish when I didn't know who they were."

You watched him closely, refusing to look away as he tried to mask his anger, but you could still see it. His jaw tensed and his uninjured hand clenched into a fist in his lap while you waited for an answer.

"So?" you prodded, cocking your head to the side. His nostrils flared for a second before he took a deep breath and turned his head away.

"The Fireflies were the group the three of you had joined before comin' to Jackson," he began. You tried to focus on peeling your apples but you were working incredibly slow, not wanting to miss a single word. "You were with 'em for a couple years. They had a decent setup, kept you all safe. Better than the QZ."

"Okay," you said slowly, picking up another apple. "So it was a community like this one?"

He huffed and shook his head, "Not exactly. More like an army. They're a revolutionary group. They rose up against the military and took over QZs with the promise of givin' control back to the people, but..." he trailed off and scratched his beard. "Wasn't all that simple. They killed alotta people in the process, and in the end, civilians still suffered. Didn't end up matterin' who was in control when both sides were just as violent."

"Oh," you said softly, setting your knife down, "so I joined because of what happened to my family? Because the military killed them? And then I ended up killing innocent people, anyway?"

Joel shrugged and stood up. "Like I said, we all made decisions the best we could with what we knew at the time. You didn't know any better. Nobody did."

"Did you join them, too?" you asked.

"No," he said, pressing both palms flat against the counter as he looked at you.

"So why did Ben seem to think telling me about the Fireflies would cause a problem with us?"

His mouth pressed into a thin line and you saw the suppressed rage flicker across his eyes again. "Fireflies ain't exactly well received by most people," he said, "lotta people here had family that was hurt or killed. Innocent bystanders caught in the middle of a war they didn't start."

You swallowed nervously, apples long forgotten as you braced yourself for your next question. "Did the Fireflies hurt someone you loved?"

Joel's gaze dropped to his hands and he clenched his jaw. He wanted to tell you. He should have just fucking spit it out and told you everything, but at the last second, he chickened out.

"No."

And you may not have known him as well as you did before the accident, but you knew him well enough now to be able to tell when he was lying. You tried to hide your disappointment by picking your knife back up and getting to work.

"Are there others?" you asked him, and he lifted his head up, "other former Fireflies who live here?"

"Aside from you three? Just Tommy."

Your jaw dropped in surprise and your eyes snapped up to him once again. "Tommy?"

"Mhmm, just for a little while. You didn't know each other before Jackson," he said, anticipating your next question. "Fireflies are a big group. Spread out all over the country."

"Oh," you said softly, looking back down at your half peeled apples which were slowly becoming brown on the edges. You began peeling again, faster now, as you thought about everything he just said while he watched you carefully from the other side of the counter. You weren't sure what else to say. It felt like he was telling you the truth, but you still had a hunch he was leaving something out.

"Y'know, it's a miracle I didn't eat half that damn pie before we got here," Joel said teasingly as you walked up the porch steps to Tommy and Maria's house. "Whole house smells like Christmas now. Drove me crazy all afternoon."

You smiled and smoothed down the blue blouse you found tucked away in your closet. It wasn't a top you could envision yourself working in, it looked a bit too nice for that, so you thought dinner would be a perfect time to wear it, combined with a dark pair of jeans that were relatively clean and only slightly frayed on the bottom. At the time, you thought it was cute when Joel came downstairs with his hair slicked back and his flannel tucked into his jeans for once, but when you walked into Tommy and Maria's and found the house to be filled with four married couples from around town, you suddenly felt uncomfortable.

"I didn't realize anyone else would be here," you murmured quietly next to Joel as you slid off your coats.

"He mentioned they may invite a few others but I didn't think this many," he told you, taking your coat and hanging it up before looking around. They had two tables covered in linen pushed together in their dining room which was alight with candles and sprigs of pine and holly spread around the middle, giving the room with a warm and romantic atmosphere. You swallowed nervously and all of the sudden, the evening felt too much like a date.

"Hey, you two!" Tommy's voice rang out from the kitchen, startling you out of your reverie. "Glad you could make it," he said, tugging Joel into a hug before giving you a chaste peck on the cheek.

"Um, here," you said, holding out the pie, "didn't want to come empty handed," you explained with a little smile. Tommy's eyes lit up when he took the pan from you and gave the pie a quick sniff.

"Damn, smells good, Sugar," he told you, his cheeks already rosy from the liquor he had been working on before you arrived. He shot Joel a playful look as he headed into the kitchen, handing Maria the dessert. "Your girl can bake, Joel. Lucky man."

The tips of your ears went hot and you looked away uncomfortably before Joel could catch your eye.

"I'll get us a couple drinks," Joel said, ignoring Tommy's comment, much to your relief. "What'dya want?"

You glanced around the room and what the other women were drinking before shrugging and suggesting wine. He followed Tommy over to the living room where they kept their liquor locked up and away from their toddler, who was gleefully playing with another woman you didn't recognize. Popping your head into the kitchen, you spotted Maria all by herself working on dinner.

"Maria," you said with a smile, and she turned around with a sigh of relief.

"Hey, I'm dying here, can you help me?"

"Of course," you said, rolling up your sleeves. "What do you need?"

She put you to work right away, chopping up vegetables and dumping them into boiling water before helping her thicken a sauce she was making for some pasta. You were just about to taste test the product when Joel and Tommy joined you in the kitchen with the drink that he promised.

"Smells so fuckin' good in here," Tommy said loudly before taking a generous sip of whiskey and giving Maria a quick peck on the lips. Joel put your wine glass near you on the counter and you shot him a thankful smile before bringing a spoon up to your lips to taste the sauce. You winced and scrunched up your nose and Joel chuckled.

"It's missing something," you explained, putting the spoon back down as you examined the spices available to you while Maria was instructing Tommy on doling out the appetizers.

"Lemme try," he said, rounding the corner to stand next to you. You handed him the spoon and he held up his whiskey. "Hands are full," he told you teasingly, and you rolled your eyes with a grin before dipping the spoon back into the sauce and lifting it to his mouth. He leaned in and wrapped his lips around the spoon, closing his eyes and making a soft noise at the taste. Your knees suddenly felt weak and your face felt hot as you struggled to compose yourself before he caught you.

He opened his eyes slowly and ran his tongue over his upper lip to capture the remnants of the sauce and you had to resist the urge to swipe your thumb over his mustache to gather the rest. It made your breath hitch in your throat and you forced yourself to look away, mentally cursing your body's reaction to him.

"Lemon," he said huskily, then took a sip from his glass while still staring down at you. Your eyes drifted up to his and you saw that look again. The one that made you feel too many things at once: nervousness, excitement, pressure, confusion. So you took a deep breath and squeezed past him, having no choice but to brush up against his chest.

"You're right. It needs lemon," you said, finding one in the mess on Maria's counter and slicing it in half before squeezing it generously over the sauce. Joel leaned against the counter, one arm caging you in from behind as you worked. You tried to ignore how close he was but you could feel his breath on your skin and it was causing your pulse to race. Fortunately, Maria came to your rescue.

"How's it going?" she asked, and Joel pushed off the counter, stepping back to give you both some room.

"Good, I think the sauce is done," you told her, and after she gave it a little taste, her eyes lit up.

"So good!" she said, clearly pleased. You felt your cheeks heat up before gesturing towards Joel.

"Thank Joel. He thought of the lemon."

Maria shot Joel a smile and thanked him as he tipped his glass in her direction before taking another sip. "Happy to help, ladies," he said.

"Go enjoy the party, I got it from here," Maria told you, shooing you away.

"Are you sure? I really don't mind-"

"Yes, I'm sure! I'm just going to plate everything and we're good to go. Help yourself to some appetizers before they're all gone," she said, turning her back on you as she started pulling down serving platters.

You picked up your wine and took a sip, hoping to quell some of your nerves as you let Joel lead you into the living room where the party was in full swing. Tommy had his daughter balancing on his shoulders as he talked to a couple men, their wives at the other end of the room in the middle of a lively conversation. You chewed your lip, glancing back and forth before you took another sip and looked up at Joel.

"Guess I'll go see what's got them all worked up," you told him, nodding your head in the direction of the other women.

"You sure?" he asked with a frown. "Don't want you feelin' uncomfortable. We can stick together if y'want."

You shook your head and stepped away. "I'm fine," you told him before forcing yourself to join the other women. As you approached, you gave the women a friendly wave to catch their attention and they beckoned you towards them with open arms. They all seemed to be around your age range, give or take, and very friendly as they took the time to re-introduce themselves to you. You politely listened to them talk about their kids or jobs while you sipped your wine and nodded along. When three of the women became engrossed in a story about their children and school, you felt yourself begin to zone out. The girl standing next to you, Hannah, caught your eye and smiled.

"Do you have any kids?" you asked her, and she shook her head.

"Not yet. I don't think we're ready, you know?" she said, glancing over your shoulder at her husband. "But one day I think we will. How about you and Joel? What are your plans?" she asked, then her eyes went wide with embarrassment. "I'm so sorry. That was a dumb question, you probably don't... ah, I'm such an idiot," she said, and you laughed.

"No, you're not, it's fine," you assured her as her cheeks began to flush.

"I guess I just keep forgetting about your accident. That was so rude of me," she said, "I see you guys together all the time and it seems so normal."

You glanced over your shoulder at Joel, watching for a moment as he laughed heartily at something one of the other men said. "Yeah," you told her, turning back around, "I can see why you'd think that."

Her gaze drifted between you and Joel for a moment before she lowered her voice and took a step further away from the other women. "So you still don't remember anything, huh?"

You shook your head sadly. "Nothing. At this point, I'm not expecting anything to come back. I'm just trying to start over."

She nodded solemnly and took a sip from her wine. "How's it going with you two?" she asked, tilting her chin in Joel's direction. You sighed and rubbed your eyes. Same old questions, different person.

"Okay, I guess. He's been incredibly patient," you said, "but I think he is still holding out hope that my memory might come back and we'll just pick up right where we left off."

Hannah gave you a sympathetic look right as Maria approached with a big smile stretched across her face. "Dinner is served!" she announced to the room before bending down and stretching her arms out for her daughter.

Everyone began to scatter as couples rejoined and headed towards the dimly lit dining room. Joel appeared by your side, his hand hovering over your lower back as you waited for the other couples to take their seats.

"Havin' a good time?" he murmured, and you gave him a tight smile before nodding. Joel pulled out one of the two remaining chairs for you and you whispered your thanks when you sat down, then he pushed it back in before taking his own seat. He relaxed and stretched his arm across the back of your chair while he listened with amusement to Tommy drunkenly telling a story that had carried over from the living room.

"The table is beautiful, Maria," you told her, leaning away from Joel a bit. "It's so cozy and warm, you really outdid yourself."

She smiled as she bounced her little girl on her knee. "Thanks. We were just itching to do something, you know? We got a little cabin fever, I think."

You felt Joel's thumb brush lightly against your spine, making you shiver. But when you glanced over at him, he was still caught up in listening to Tommy and you wondered if those little gestures were intentional or if it was muscle memory.

Once everyone began to eat, Joel dropped his arm from your chair and you found yourself missing the warmth that radiated from him, confusing yourself even more. Sometimes you just wanted to hit your head against the wall and rattle your memories loose so you could stop feeling so conflicted. If you were this confused, you couldn't imagine what Joel was feeling. Although, at that moment, he seemed to be perfectly content as he stood up with Tommy to get another drink.

"Y'want any more?" Joel asked, nodding to your glass but you shook your head.

"Maybe later," you said, and when he caught your eye he gave you a quick wink before following Tommy back into the living room.

"So, how's it going at the infirmary? Still like it?" Maria asked, drawing your attention back to her.

"Yeah, I do, actually. That was a good idea, I've been meaning to thank you," you said, wiping the corners of your mouth with a napkin. "It feels good to stay busy and I'm learning a lot."

"Well, Nick always speaks so highly of you. Especially after that nasty flu worked its way through town. He said you were a godsend," Maria told you while simultaneously handing her daughter a steamed carrot.

"She was. Worked her tail off all week then had to deal with me when she got home," Joel said as he sat back down with a soft grunt. You smiled at him, grateful for the compliment.

"If he's anything like his brother when he's sick then I'm sure you've earned sainthood status," Maria said to you, making everyone laugh.

"Hey, what're you sayin' 'bout me down there?" Tommy slurred with a grin from the other end of the table. You were fairly certain Maria answered him with some sharp remark which made the table laugh again, but you couldn't exactly remember because Joel dropped his hand to rest on your knee and you suddenly couldn't think straight. Your skin felt hot under his touch, even through your jeans, and you could have sworn the whole room could hear how loudly your heart was pounding in your chest, so you anxiously grabbed your wine glass and finished the rest in one gulp, hoping it would steady your nerves.

You could have asked him to move his hand. You could have made an excuse, gotten up and used the bathroom, but you didn't. You remained perfectly still, allowing his hand to rest on your leg as you tried to focus on the conversation at the table. Because although your mind was saying one thing, your body was always reacting differently.

If you had known what would have ended up happening that night, you would have done something in that moment. Maybe if you had, it would have changed everything.

Instead, you sat there and didn't say a word. You just politely listened to everyone talk with Joel's hand still on your leg while your body and mind waged a war nobody could see.

When Maria stood to hand off her daughter to Tommy and clear the table, you joined her, finally ending Joel's grip on you. The other women stood while the men attempted to help but got shooed into the living room. When all the ladies were alone in the kitchen, Maria pulled out a jar of apple flavored moonshine that she told you all quietly she was hiding from Tommy because it was her favorite before passing it around for everyone to have a taste.

It was strong. Each of you had to stifle your coughs into your hands, which erupted into giggles and eventually caught the attention of the men, so you all did your best to distract them after they curiously poked their heads into the kitchen so Maria could hide the jar once again.

In retrospect, the alcohol didn't do you any favors. Your head was swimming a little by the time dessert was served and you found yourself inadvertently leaning into Joel's shoulder as everyone complimented your pie and he watched you adoringly while you waved off the praise.

The food was amazing, but combined with the drinks, you found your eyelids growing heavy as the party moved back into the living room and Maria took her daughter to bed.

"I think I'm going to get some air," you told Joel while everyone else got comfortable.

"You alright?" he asked, examining your face closely. You nodded.

"Just getting tired," you explained as you took a step towards the door, but he immediately put his glass down.

"Why didn't you say so? We can go home."

"No, it's okay-"

"You've been workin' so hard lately. You need your rest. Go get your things and I'll tell Tommy we're headin' out," he said, refusing to hear another word. And as much as you didn't want to tear him away from the party, you had to agree with him. The past couple weeks were physically draining and it definitely seemed like the exhaustion was catching up with you.

Once Joel announced your departure and everybody bid you good night, you each grabbed your coats and slid on your boots before heading outside. The brisk night air was a shock to the system and it helped wake you up a bit on the walk home. Joel wrapped his arm around your waist as you walked, holding you close to him, enveloping you with his warmth and when you inevitably reflected on that night, you would remember that moment as one on a long list of ways you were sending him mixed signals because you didn't pull away. Because as confused as you were about your feelings for him, you couldn't deny the attraction you harbored. And maybe it was partially your fault for not being stronger because you knew, you fucking knew Joel's feelings for you were far deeper than yours that night, and yet you still didn't step away.

When you arrived home and Joel fumbled clumsily with the door, you giggled, making him grin and his eyes light up at the sound before finally shoving the door open and flicking on a light. You shrugged off your coat and kicked off your boots with a sigh, the faint smell of apple pie still lingering in the air. You were happy to be in the comfort of your own home and eager to throw on your pajamas, but Joel led you into the kitchen first and poured you some water. You couldn't help but smile at how reminiscent it was from when he was sick and you did the same thing for him, so you took it and made sure to drink the whole thing while he watched with a pleased expression on his face.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you looked tonight?"

The glass was still pressed against your mouth, the last drops of water just swallowed, and you froze. Slowly, you lowered the glass to the counter and shook your head, unable to look away from his heated stare.

"Well, you did. Lit up the whole place. Prettier than all the other women," he said, fighting to remain still and not pull you into his arms. But he was losing that battle.

"Thank you," you said softly, forcing yourself to look away. It didn't deter him.

"I mean it. Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you. Talkin' 'bout you," he said, watching your face heat up as he blinked slowly. "Lookin' at you," he added after a quiet moment, and you laughed softly while you crossed your arms protectively over your chest.

"Joel..." you began, not even sure what you planned to say so you opted for staring blankly out the window just so you wouldn't have to look him in the eye.

"What, baby?" he murmured, taking a bold step forward and pinching your chin with his fingers. You dragged your gaze back up to him just to find his dark brown eyes all wide and filled with hope and tenderness as he stared down at you, his gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips, clearly displaying his intention but you still didn't step away. Your body wouldn't let you move.

"We're both drunk," you told him, trying to remain rational. Trying to stay clear-headed.

"Not that drunk," he quickly countered, his eyes still roaming your face, his fingers still pressing into your chin and you could feel your heart flutter wildly. Why on earth couldn't your mind catch up with your body?

You sighed, partially from the exhaustion, partially from the inability to properly express yourself but he took it to mean something else. He heard your sigh and thought you were finally giving in. That you were finally going to let him kiss you. Because why else wouldn't you have pulled away?

He leaned forward, his eyes slid shut, and although you should have known it was coming, it still surprised you. Your eyes stayed open wide as he inched towards you and finally at the very last second, you tilted your face to the side, causing him to press his lips against your cheek instead.

You felt his reaction before you could see it. His lips immediately tensed against your skin and his breathing stalled. Then his hand dropped from your chin and he leaned back, eyes no longer warm and inviting.

You tightly pressed your lips together in shame. "Joel, I'm sorry-"

"Don't be," he said quickly, cutting you off and backing away.

The hurt was evident across his face, although he tried to hide it by averting his gaze.

"I just don't think I'm there yet," you said after a long, tense moment. "I'm trying-"

"Yeah, I know," he replied harshly, turning on his heel and marching out of the kitchen. "I know you're tryin' to force yourself to love me. It's gotta be real hard, I get it," he spat, his voice so cold it made you shudder as he shoved his boots back on.

You choked back a sob as you watched him grab his coat.

"Where are you going?"

"Don't know," was all he said before flinging the door open and storming out, leaving you all alone in the entryway with tears slowly streaking down your cheeks.

What an absolute fucking idiot he was.

What was he thinking? That you would magically find him attractive again? Love him again? That he was worthy of your time and care and attention? After everything he did?

You didn't know, of course, but what else could it be, other than fate? Or karma? Or whatever it was, coming back and erasing all your memories of him to set things right? Because did he ever really deserve you in the first place?

No, definitely not. Not after everything he did.

His legs carried him blindly to the Tipsy Bison. It was a quiet night, and maybe had he been in the right frame of mind, he would have been surprised. Most of the town was cooped up the past couple weeks, under normal circumstances he would have thought it would be busier, but at that moment in time, he didn't care. He only cared about one thing: he needed to forget.

He motioned for Seth and he nodded in acknowledgment before pouring him his usual whiskey and setting it down. Joel snatched it up and immediately downed it with a wince before pushing the empty glass towards Seth.

"Another, please," he muttered before burying his face in his hands with a groan. Seth eyed him suspiciously before pouring his second drink and setting it back down on the bar.

Joel let the glass sit there a few minutes while he stewed in his anger. He wanted to blame you, but he couldn't. Not really. He knew it wasn't your fault but, fuck, he just wanted you back. He was so goddamn lonely that it made his chest hurt. He rubbed it absentmindedly before picking up his glass and forcing himself to take a slow sip. He had already drank too much at Tommy's and if he didn't want to wake up with a massive hangover, he had to slow down.

"Hey, cowboy," a familiar, flirty voice suddenly said from beside him. He tilted his head to the side and had to fight the urge to roll his eyes.

"Angie."

She smirked and pulled up a tall barstool, scooting her way up with a little grunt that made his stomach clench as he watched her maneuver in her tight jeans.

"What's got you so blue?" she purred as she took a sip from her drink and crossed her legs, her foot coming dangerously close to touching his calf.

"Who said I was blue?" he asked gruffly before taking another swig of whiskey.

She laughed softly and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Kind of hard to miss," she said, resting her chin in her palm as she looked at him expectantly.

His eyebrows furrowed at her but she noticed the way the corner of his mouth twitched and she bit her lip playfully.

"C'mon, what's the matter? You can tell me, baby," she cooed, and he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

"Don't call me that."

Angie pouted and leaned closer, her breath tickling his ear when she whispered, "Oh, that's right. How could I forget? You prefer daddy."

"Knock it off," he growled, turning away from her and ignoring the stirring below his waist, but it wouldn't be that easy. It never was.

She rested her delicate hand on his forearm and his muscles twitched, but he didn't move. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed being touched. And in that moment, any touch would do. She smiled and slid her hand up his arm slowly, and he let her, his eyes fixed somewhere in the opposite direction as he tried with all his might to ignore it, to fight it, to stand up and fucking leave, but he couldn't do it.

"So tense," she murmured in his ear, and his eyes fluttered shut. "I can help with that, y'know." Her hand dropped from his shoulder to his lap and had Joel's eyes been open, he would have seen Seth's eyes widen in surprise before looking away. "We're real good at it, remember?" she continued, her fingers inching towards the seam of his jeans. But before she could reach between his legs, his hand grabbed her wrist.

"Stop it," he said weakly, forcing his eyes open to glare at her, but she just smiled sweetly at him and pulled her hand back.

"I need to use the restroom," she said, her voice sultry. "You remember where the ladies' room is, right?" she asked with a wink before sliding off the stool and swinging her hips as she strolled down the hall towards the bathroom. He groaned and rubbed his face roughly.

He wasn't sure how it happened. He wanted to blame the whiskey, he wanted to blame you, but at the end of the day it was all on him when he found himself shoving open the door to the women's room and crowding Angie against the sink, his mouth crashing down on hers hungrily.

It was only one tiny minute of weakness. When he realized his mistake, when he remembered her lips weren't anything compared to yours, when her noises were not the noises he wanted to hear, her touch not the touch he craved, he immediately stopped kissing her, pulling back and cursing under his breath.

Angie looked at him, her eyes dark and her cheeks flushed, then took a step forward but he held up his hand.

"No," he said a bit too loudly, the whiskey making his head swim as he stumbled backwards towards the door. She rolled her eyes and grinned.

"C'mon, Joel. When are you going to realize she's not coming back? You need to move on," Angie said sweetly. Too sweetly. "You deserve to be happy," she added, and he frowned when the enormity of what he had done dawned on him through his drunken haze.

"Stay away from me," he warned her, reaching for the door and yanking it open.

"Fine. But just remember: you followed me in here!" she shouted after him as he disappeared down the hall. He snatched his coat from his barstool and jogged towards the exit.

He had to get home.

The carpet should have been worn to the floorboards by the time Joel finally came back. You had been pacing around the living room, chewing on your fingernails nervously as you replayed the entire evening in your head. The guilt was fucking suffocating you. You couldn't help but feel like you were partially to blame, but you would have broken his heart if you let him kiss you without fully understanding how you felt first, and he didn't deserve that. Maybe once he cooled down, he would understand.

When you heard his slow, heavy footsteps walking up the porch stairs, your heart leapt into your throat. The door creaked open slowly, as if he expected you to be asleep and he was trying to be quiet, but when he closed the door and saw you standing in the middle of the living room, your arms wrapped around yourself, his face contorted into a grimace.

"You're still up," he said, voice a little raspy as he hung up his coat.

"Joel, I'm so sorry," you began, "I'm just so confused. I'm still trying to work out my feelings but I don't want to rush into something and risk hurting you."

He swallowed and hung his head in shame, unable to look at you.

"Please don't apologize," he whispered, but you kept going.

"Of course I'm going to apologize. I sent you mixed signals and I ended up hurting you anyway."

"I did somethin'," he blurted out, and you froze mid-sentence, waiting for him to elaborate. Silence filled the room, your eyes drifted around aimlessly before you sunk down onto the edge of the couch and tucked your hands under your thighs.

"What did you do?" you asked, your voice wavering when you realized he still hadn't looked you in the eye.

He took a steadying breath and propped his hands on his hips, his face still angled shamefully towards the floor. "I kissed someone else."

His words hung heavy in the air, your deep, ragged breaths the only sound filling the room as your tired mind tried to make sense of what he just said.

"What?" you finally asked, voice deathly quiet. He forced himself to look at you now, his dark eyes brimming with tears.

"It was a mistake-" he began, voice thick with emotion, tongue heavy and clumsy between his teeth, but you stopped him.

"Just now?" you asked incredulously, your stomach turning sour. Fighting the nausea back down with a harsh swallow, you spoke again. "You tried to kiss me, I shot you down and you just... went out and found someone else?"

"That's not what I left to do, it just happened-"

"Who?" you asked, your gaze stony as you continued to stare at him, anguish and regret flickering across his face.

"Does it matter?" he tried weakly, softly, but it just pissed you off even more.

"Yes," you hissed, slowly standing back up on now shaky legs. "Who, Joel?"

His throat bobbed and he shifted his weight and when he mumbled Angie's name, you saw red.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" you whispered, quickly closing the gap between you and shoving him hard against the chest, causing him to stumble back in shock. When he looked you in the eyes, all glassy and cold and distraught, his blood felt like ice in his veins.

He was losing you.

"Please, lemme just explain-"

"What could you possibly have to say?!" you exclaimed, your body growing hot with rage. Hands shaking so badly you had to cross your arms to hide the tremor. "I was taking too long to fuck you so you went out and found a sure thing?"

"I didn't fuck her, but I could've!" he yelled back, an angry vein popping out of his neck at his sudden outburst. Your eyes went wide and you took a step back in surprise. He didn't know why he was yelling. He knew it wouldn't help, but he just snapped. "I never once pressured you to sleep with me! I gave you your space an-and respected your boundaries," he was flailing now, his thoughts scattered as he desperately tried to make sense. "But I'm a human fuckin' being and I got drunk and I was lonely and I made a fuckin' mistake! And I'm sorry, alright?!"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. "You're lonely," you repeated, the words like poison on your tongue, and he frowned. "What about me? I'm lonely, too! You know what the first question is out of everyone's mouth ever since my accident?" you asked, glaring up at him, anger rolling off both your bodies. "They ask me how you're doing. You! Like this was some tragedy that only happened to you! But I lost fucking everything in the blink of an eye!" Tears began to burn the backs of your eyes now but you pushed on. "My world literally turned upside down in an instant and everyone just kept waiting for me to get with the program, including you!"

"That's not true," he said, shaking his head angrily, "I never pressured you to do anythin'!"

"It's the way you look at me!" you cried, wiping the tears from your cheeks. "You don't even realize you're doing it but you keep looking at me, expecting to find the woman you fell in love with but she's gone, Joel!"

You both fell silent, staring at one another, shoulders heaving as you each sat with the weight of your words.

"I don't care," he finally said, lowering his voice. "I still love you. I told you that first day. What we got is rare and special and I'm not givin' up on us."

"Then how could you go kiss someone else the first time there's a bump in the road?" you asked, tone hurt and dejected, then you turned and headed up the stairs.

"I told you, it was a mistake," he pleaded, following you. "I'm so sorry... wait, what're you doin'?" he asked when he realized he had followed you into your room. You were snatching clothes from the drawers and tossing them onto your bed, and that's when he really began to panic.

"I can't stay here," you said, disappearing into the bathroom. His vision narrowed and his legs became weak as fear flooded his veins.

"No," he whispered, but you didn't hear him. You were busy gathering a few toiletries from the bathroom and tossing them on the bed along with your clothes, but when you walked past him to get a bag, he grabbed your arm.

"Don't do this," he begged. You yanked your arm out of his grip and stepped back, glaring at him and he realized in that moment he would rather have you there screaming at him for the rest of the night than not have you there at all, so he kept talking. He kept pushing.

"Y'know, for someone who says she doesn't have feelin's for me, you sure seem to be pretty pissed off," he glowered, and your eyes widened. That's it, he thought, let me have it. "If you don't want me, if you don't give a shit 'bout me, then what the hell does it matter if someone else does?"

You gasped, his words like a punch to the gut. Like a blade to your heart. Without thinking, your arm swung back and your palm cracked loudly against his cheek, stunning you both into silence.

He wanted to rub the spot, to help soothe the pain with the tips of his fingers, but he resisted. Instead, he let his cheek redden so you were forced to see what you did.

"You think I don't give a shit about you?" you seethed once you found your voice, palm stinging at your side, eyes flickering between his eyes and his cheek.

"Sure seems that way," he countered, and your jaw clenched angrily as the next round of tears began to well up.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" you yelled, your hands balling into fists at your sides. "How dare you. You made me give a shit about you, you asshole!"

You shoved past him and headed down the hall to the spare room in search of a duffel bag, but Joel was hot on your trail. If he let you leave, he would never get you back.

"The hell does that even mean?"

You whipped around, making him stumble backwards, your eyes wild and bloodshot. "You told me you would make me fall in love with you again! This whole time we've been getting to know each other, building up our relationship and you think after all that, after everything we've shared, that I don't give a shit about you?"

"Well-" he began, but you cut him off.

"I took care of you when you were sick. I sat next to your bed for a full week, waiting for you to fall asleep, making sure you had everything you needed," you said, your voice growing quiet as hot tears spilled down your cheeks. "You told me about your daughter. I told you about my brother," you whimpered, your voice cracking on the last word. Joel's face fell when he finally realized how broken you were, the full weight of his actions realized. "How could you say that to me?" you sobbed, burying your face in your hands, your cheeks hot and wet in your palms. Your head ached. Your heart ached. You needed this to end.

"Oh, god, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it," he told you, stepping forward and pulling you into his arms. You only let yourself melt against his broad chest for a moment before you sniffled and pushed him away. Turning around, you snatched the bag from the ground and stormed past him.

"Tell me how to fix it," he pleaded as he followed you back into your room.

"You can't."

His head was pounding, throat scratchy and dry as he watched you pack from the doorway, his chest tightening with each article of clothing that passed through your hands.

"Please. Stay. I-I-I won't even talk to you if that's what you want, just please stay."

You paused, your eyes squeezing shut as you silently cried over your bag. "You want me to stay, Joel?" you asked, voice trembling, and even though weren't looking, he nodded.

"I'll do anythin'," he said earnestly, and you opened your eyes. Reaching for your journal, you flipped it open to a well worn page and tossed it on the bed. He frowned at it, confused, but stepped forward and picked it up.

"Then tell me what you lied about."

His eyes scanned the page, reading the four words over and over. Joel lied to me. No context, but he didn't need any. He knew.

You could see the conflict in his face as he tried to figure out a way around it.

"The truth. Or I'm gone," you said firmly, and when his eyes flicked up to yours, you saw fear.

He slowly turned around, the journal held delicately in his massive hands, as he sat down onto the edge of your mattress.

"Okay."

The shock made your tears slow to a stop.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay," he repeated, his tone somber as he stared down at your journal in his lap. "What's the difference now, anyway? You already hate me."

I don't hate you, you thought, but you remained silent.

"If I tell you, you promise not to leave?" he clarified, and you thought about it for a moment. What if it was something really bad? But you knew you wouldn't get the truth out of him any other way, so you nodded. You figured if you still left and ended up becoming a liar, then at least you would be even.

"I told you 'bout the Fireflies," he began, and you got the feeling the story was going to be long so you sat down on the bed.

"Yes."

"You, Ben 'n Lisa were all part of a group out in Salt Lake City," he said, his gaze pinned on the journal. "In a hospital. Doin' research."

"Research? I don't know anything about-"

"You weren't doin' the research. The three of you were just guards. Patrolmen. There were doctors there, and they were lookin' for a cure," he continued, then took a deep breath before lifting his chin and staring at a fixed point on your wall.

"Did they find one?" you asked, remembering that first day when Joel told you about the outbreak. You had asked him at the time if there was cure and he said no. That couldn't be the lie, could it?

"Well, they were close," he said, his brow pinching together. "This next part is somethin' that's gotta stay in this house, y'hear me?" he asked, finally turning to look at you. "Y'gotta promise me that no matter what you end up thinkin' of me, you can't tell anyone 'bout this part."

You didn't want to make that promise. Why would you, after everything he had put you through? But, still, you found yourself nodding slowly, then his next sentence knocked all the air from your lungs.

"Ellie's immune."

Your lips slowly parted as the shock coursed through you, your eyes slowly drifting down to the comforter. Your mind was blank except for Ellie's immune, Ellie's immune playing on a constant loop.

"It's why you didn't write anythin' else, I reckon," he explained, holding up your journal. "Didn't want anyone to find it."

You slowly began to put the pieces together. A research hospital. Ellie's immunity. They were close to a cure.

"The Fireflies thought they could use Ellie to create a vaccine," he said after a long pause. "And I took her to 'em. Took her right into the lion's den," he said with a dry chuckle. "Didn't realize til after they took her that they would've had to... kill her to get what they needed."

Your eyes darted up to meet his again as you listened, entranced.

"Nobody knows, okay?" he said, his voice wavering a bit. "Only Tommy. No one else can know. Her life depends on it, d'you understand?"

You nodded, still unable to find your voice, so he continued.

"When I realized what they were doin', that they would have to kill her, I just..." he trailed off and scratched his chin, looking away, eyes distant. "I lost it. It's the only way to describe it."

"W-what do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

"I killed alotta people," he said, voice cold and detatched, "alotta fuckin' people. Whoever got in my way, I just... didn't think twice. 'Til you."

You inhaled sharply, almost forgetting you were somewhere in that hospital.

"Me?" you squeaked.

"You didn't see my face," he said, his voice beginning to shake. "None of you did. The three of you were together. You surrendered. Had you face down on the ground with your hands behind your head. Told me you were plannin' on ditchin' the Fireflies anyway. That you wouldn't come after me." His hand trembled in his lap and he made a fist.

"You weren't the first ones to say that to me, but you were the first ones I let live."

You pressed your palms into your face, trying to quell the ache behind your eyes as you rocked gently back and forth on the bed, heart thundering in your chest, blooding pumping too fast. The exhaustion was too much. You could hardly make sense of what he was saying.

"You almost killed me," you said, more of a statement than a question, your voice muffled through your hands.

"Yeah." He watched you carefully, trying to read you, desperately searching for some small glimmer of hope underneath all your rage and confusion.

"Then what?" you forced yourself to ask, pinching the bridge of your nose.

He ticked his jaw to the side and looked away.

"Then... Ellie 'n me came here. Started over. Tried to forget," he sniffed, pulling at a loose string on his shirt. "Then the three of you showed up couple months later. Scared the fuckin' shit outta me, but none of you seemed to recognize me."

"Because we never saw you," you said, and he nodded.

"I didn't speak to you for over a month. I was so scared you'd recognize my voice or somethin', but I just couldn't stay away from you," he said, his eyes softening now. "Then that night at the bar happened. When you came up to me and-"

"Yeah, I remember what you told me," you replied, not eager to relive that story at the moment.

"Then the rest is history. We started messin' around. You didn't know who I was for a few months, then I finally told you."

"After you were already fucking me," you said coldly, and he winced.

"After I fell in love with you."

You sat back and rubbed your eyes. You had so many questions. What was your reaction when you first learned who he was? If you stuck around, you must have seen something in Joel that made you feel safe. Why did he spare you? Was it only because you couldn't identify him? And how much did Ellie know?

"Please say somethin'," he begged after a few tense, quiet minutes.

"What do you want me to say?" you asked him, your shoulders sagging forward, limbs too heavy. "You want me to forgive you? You want me to say I understand?" He shook his head but you kept talking.

"You spared my life just to break my heart."

He turned away from you as his face crumpled. "I'm gonna fix it," he said, his throat tight and voice thick as he fought off the tears that were threatening to spill down his face. "I'm gonna make it right, if you just-"

"Can you go, please?" you asked quietly, "I have nothing else to say and I'm fucking tired."

He looked over at you but you refused to look up, your puffy eyes fixed blankly on the floor. His gaze drifted to the bag and clothes littering your bed and he asked, "Are you stayin'?"

You didn't answer. You just slowly stood up and flung your comforter back, some of your clothes falling into a heap on the floor but you didn't care as you crawled into bed and turned your back to him.

Begrudgingly, he stood. His eyes flicked around your room nervously, his fingers fidgeting at his sides while he chewed on the inside of his cheek, struggling to come up with the right words to say.

"Go!" you sobbed from underneath your blankets, hiding from him the tears that were soaking your sheets.

So, he left. Not because he wanted to, but because he caused you enough agony for one night, and as much as he wanted to stay and beg on his knees for forgiveness, it would be the selfish thing to do. Instead, he went to his bed and stared at the ceiling, barely sleeping the entire night because his body jerked awake at every little creak the old house made, wondering when he woke up, if you would be gone for good.

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A/N: Yes, there will be a happy ending 😘

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gisellaswrld · 8 months

Text

i’d go out of my way to receive your attention; wide eyed at the circumstances i’d do for you

qh43 | after an argument with quinn, you find yourself at the bars with your less than protective friends. quinn becomes the savior, yet things still weren’t right.

Going out to the bars was never an easily time for you. It was filled with constant anxiety and paranoia that something bad would happen to you. You weren't really an over-anxious person regularly, but when it came to going out, things were different.

Tonight, your friends suggested to take you out, telling you that you needed to take the load off after the month you had.

The previous month, it was like some sort of bad karma. First, your car broke down on the interstate during rush hour. Then, after you got your car home, someone broke into it that night. Not to mention all the work troubles, a small argument with your dad that left you sleepless.

The biggest of all? Quinn and you got into an argument a few days prior to tonight and you haven't spoke since.

It wasn't even a big argument to start. It was simply because Quinn forgot to mention that his parents were coming to Vancouver. You were unable to get any time off of work to be able to meet with them, and Quinn was not happy about it.

Of course, you got defensive because it wasn't your fault. Quinn just didn't want to see it in the way you did. Which led to four days of not speaking, the longest period of time you've gone without speaking to Quinn since you started to talk.

Your friends were taking you to the bar, one saying she'd be the designated driver for the night. Usually, being the DD was your position. Considering the friend was usually the one who drank the most on night outs, it made you anxious.

There was the possibility that she'd just not care and end up drinking, leaving no sober driver.

All in all, you were anxious before even leaving for the bar.

Your friends had to practically force you to down two drinks. Most people would call it peer pressure, but to them they were encouraging you to "fight your urges" or whatever.

You thought about messaging Quinn before you left your apartment, letting him know that you were out. But your friend, Olivia, confiscated your phone before you could even click on his contact name.

"Don't you feel much better now that you aren't sober?" Olivia shouted over the music, a giddy smile plastered on her face.

"Mhm," You raised your eyebrows, a fake smile on your face. "Can I have my phone back? I want to take some pictures." You lied, reaching out for your phone.

"Sure, I guess. No texting Quinn though! We don't chase, we attract."

You grabbed your phone from Olivia, scoffing at her saying. After shuffling through bodies of people, you finally made it to the bathroom. There were many ladies inside, drunkenly leaning on the counter and complementing each other.

You just needed a somewhat calmer environment than the scene outside the door.

Your brain had gotten overwhelmed, anxious thoughts were filling too quickly. Even with only two drinks, you knew you were done drinking. After a few deep breaths, you finally went back outside.

You searched for your friends, ultimately spotting them at the bar. Then, just as quickly as your mind has settled, it was filled with your worst fear. All of your friends were taking numerous shots, leaving none of them sober.

"Shit," You quietly whined to yourself.

You backed up back to the bathroom, leaning against the bathroom counter. You could call an uber. But that would leave a car here and then someone would come back and get it. It could get broken into, or stolen.

"Babe! You look sick," A drunken slur from a girl.

You looked over to see a ginger haired woman, drunkenly staring at you. A small smile appearing on your face.

"I'm okay,"

The girl shrugged, leaving the bathroom.

And for you? Well it wasn't hard to sneak outside, leaving your five friends inside. Olivia's words rang through your mind.

We don't chase, we attract. Bullshit.

You were quickly grabbing your phone from your purse, dialing Quinn's number. The cold air outside mixed with the anxiety and paranoia in your brain made your body shiver.

"Hello?" Quinn's voice sounded confused, and tired.

In his defense, it was 1 AM by this point.

"Quinn, I'm sorry if I woke you up. But my friends dragged me to the bar, they are all drunk, I've been drinking, I can't be here any longer. My head is-" Her rambling was quickly cut off.

"Which bar are you at?" Quinn quickly spoke and you could hear the sound of keys in the background.

You told Quinn the bar and waited for him, alone, outside.

The familiar purr of Quinn's engine is what made you lift your head from your knees. You opted on sitting outside on a curb, knees pulled close to your chest.

"Jesus, Y/N, what are you doing?" Quinn muttered a rhetorical question. He picked you up back onto your feet, his eyes trailing your body.

"I didn't want to go back inside because my friends would trap me, so I waited out here," You scanned your surroundings, now realizing the dark street that sat in front of the club.

Quinn gave you a disappointed look, crossing his arms over his chest as he shifted his weight. "By yourself? You realize it's fuckin' 1AM. Like you could've been-"

You quickly rolled your eyes, shoving past him as you got into the passenger seat in his car. Quinn stood on the sidewalk, presumably shocked by how you were acting, then eventually got in the drivers seat. He started to drive to your apartment.

If there was one word to describe the car ride, it would be tense. The whole entire vibe was heavy, too heavy for your brain. So you cracked the window. No words were spoken between Quinn and you. To you, it felt like this was the end. The end of a long journey.

You felt pieces of your heart chip away the closer you got to your apartment. (Though, if you hadn't been too preoccupied with staring out the window, you would've noticed Quinn spent 40% of the drive looking at the road, and 60% looking at you.)

Quinn parked in a parking spot, his usual spot. No one dared to move an inch, breath to loudly, do anything that showed a sign of life. After a harsh swallow, you were the first to speak.

"You can get your things from my apartment if you want," Your voice was so quiet, so soft. But it was only because if you spoke any louder, it would be a sob.

"What?" Quinn seemed confused, furrowing his eyebrows as he quickly looked at you.

"You can get your things-" Quinn was quick to interrupt.

"No, I heard you. I'm saying what because I'm confused where this was coming from." Quinn explained, turning to face you.

"When was the last time we spoke?"

Quinn sat silently, knowing the answer. He just didn't want to admit it.

"And how long have we been together?"

Still no reply from Quinn.

"Exactly Quinn. What am I supposed to expect if for the first time in our five year relationship, we go more than a day without speaking? What am I supposed to think when we have an argument and suddenly you just go mute?" Your voice wasn't raised, it wasn't angry, you were able to calmly express the thoughts in your brain.

"I don't know."

You nodded, tired of his overly simplistic and lack of effort answers. You got out of the car, walking to your apartment door.

For some reason, maybe it was the small amount of alcohol or the dark loom of thoughts that your relationship with the man you want to marry is coming to an end, by the time you reached your apartment door you were sobbing. More than sobbing, absolutely in hysterics, hyperventilating, shaking. It was surprisingly you even knew you were at your apartment.

Quinn, on the other hand, felt guilty. Guilty that he had no other reason besides being stubborn, guilty that he made you think everything was over, and most of all, guilty that you thought Quinn didn't love you. Because if Quinn didn't love you, he wouldn't have even brought you home.

So as quickly as you broke down, Quinn was right there by your side. He caught your body just as you were falling to your knees, bringing you into his own.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N." Quinn spoke, pressing his cheek against her hair. "I'm so sorry, I was being stubborn, I didn't realize what was going on."

Quinn continued to apologize. His sweet nothings filled your heart, and eventually you finally grasped onto him. When your arms wrapped around Quinn, that was all he needed to ease his worried mind.

"I'm tired." Was all you could mumble, mentally and physically tired by this whole night. It had exhausted you.

"Let's go sleep then."

#nhl #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #hockey #quinnhughes #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes angst

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strawbeerossi · 8 months

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Anger Management

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: You and Spencer broke up months ago over him talking to someone else. Whenever she dies and he’s left to grieve, he likes to take his anger out on you until one day you have enough.

Content/Warnings: Non descriptive break up, mentions of Maeve (I’m a Maeve hater), Spencer is an asshole, Dom!Spencer, office sex, unprotected sex.

Word Count: 1.5K

Kinktober Day Nine: Hate Sex

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

Spencer had always known that he was a creature of habit after learning the things he liked and disliked. He strayed from trying most new things, nor did he ever spend his time going out of his way to communicate with new people. He enjoyed his simple yet equally complicated existence.

He had a stable job, he had a home, plus he had a huge combined family with his work colleagues. Besides you.

Once upon a time, he loved you. The both of you spent every waking moment together at home and at work, enjoying one another’s presence and taking care of one another. Once he met Maeve, that changed though. He’d began to spend his time talking to the woman who he swore up and down was just his doctor who was helping him with his headache problems.

The more they talked, the more you realized that had to be a bullshit lie. What kind of doctor makes her patients go to a payphone just to have a consultation or to discuss your issues? She felt like it was suspicious. They had secret conversations, things Spencer wouldn’t dare discuss after the fact. If you were honest, it pissed you off.

That was why there was an explosive fight, one where you were deciding on packing up all your shit in the apartment and you were leaving. You didn’t have to sit around and take it so you weren’t going to.

You’d transferred departments for a while after that, knowing the BAU couldn’t be home with your ex boyfriend still there. You’d moved on to Counterterrorism, which was an alright job. Paid the bills, you just preferred where you knew that you belonged.

Going for months without talking to Spencer and having no interest to, you thought you were recovering pretty well.

Until you got a call from Aaron Hotchner. Spencer was on bereavement leave and they were down an agent, which you’d briefly heard the long story of Maeve being stalked and ultimately shot in front of Spencer. He was practically begging you on the phone to come back, long enough for them to be fully staffed so cases could be solved timely and efficiently.

Which you did. It ended up with you putting in a transfer to come back to the BAU. Things went downhill after that though. Spencer was still going through the stages of grief and most of the issues and hard feelings he felt were taken out on you. He’d make sly and shitty comments regularly, things you did your best to ignore. He was grieving, it didn’t make it okay but you really did try to cut him some slack. The things he said were deep cuts, insulting your intelligence at times just to see if he could elicit a reaction.

That wasn’t the Spencer you knew, the Spencer that you loved. You just assumed that version of him was dead and buried along with Maeve.

Today wasn’t a day to bother you though. After weeks of suffering from verbal abuse, you were tired of it. You’d woken up in a bad mood as is that morning, dreading what was to come the minute that you walked into the bullpen. A mood that Derek would jokingly say was because you just woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

With the desk setups, it was no surprise your desk was across from Spencer’s, how lucky could you possibly be? You were looking through the stack of files you desperately needed to sort through when Spencer came in. Joy.

“You know, if you actually made forth an effort to do your job when it needs to be done, you wouldn’t have the pile of work you need to blow through.” He was getting started early, placing his satchel on the underside of his desk while retrieving a book.

Without missing a beat, you picked up at least four of the files and tossed them carelessly onto his desk. “Then fucking help lighten the load since you are so concerned about it.” You snapped, which caught Spencer by surprise. You’ve been a quiet punching bag since he got back but here you were, snapping at him. That only fueled his fire.

“I’m not concerned about it, I’m giving you advice.” He had his own attitude while picking up the files before throwing them back to your desk. “I think you need to stop being so sensitive. It’s not a good look for you. I’m offering you advice.”

“No. You’re being an asshole and I’m getting tired of you taking every ounce of anger out on me! Who the fuck do you think you are?” You asked, hands slamming on your desk while you were pushing yourself to stand. The commotion had garnered the attention of every other agent in the bullpen, even Aaron and Dave watching from the windows of their office. You knew you’d be embarrassed later but you felt so good right now for standing up for yourself. As you stormed out of the heavy glass doors, everyone turned their attention to Spencer, who was in a stunned silence. “I’ll go talk to her.” He cleared his throat. He felt rage festering inside of him after that little display, however he kept himself grounded as he was heading out of the bullpen in search of you.

He eventually found you in one of the vacant offices, a frown on his face as he was quickly stepping inside and closing the door. “That was ridiculous.” He wasn’t here to apologize, only here to argue even more. “No, it wasn’t. I hope that I humiliated you infront of every agent in that room.” Venom dripped from your tone as you turned to face him, face red from anger. “I’m so sick of your bullshit. You think just because you lost someone that you have a right to make my life a living hell?” You asked, stepping closer to jab your finger into his chest. “Because you don’t. I’m sorry that whatever her name is died, I truly am. I’m tired of giving you a pass because I feel bad for you!” You spat.

That was the final straw for Spencer as he backed you up against the nearest wall of the office. “I knew you would try and bring her up into this!” He scoffed, both of you staring at each other in a tense silence. Within a flash, your hands were tangled in Spencer's hair while he was slamming his mouth into yours, the frustration and anger all melting into the kiss as he had you pinned to the wall behind you. “I’m so fucking sick of your mouth.” You murmured against his lips and made Spencer grunt. “Like I’m not tired of your bullshit.” He murmured, his hands quickly working on the buttons of your pants while working on tugging them down.

The haste was returned as you were working on his belt before tossing it somewhere in the room while tugging down the pants hugging his waist. The kiss was abruptly cut off as he was flipping you around, your body now facing the wall. It was for the best that you didn’t look at him, moreso because he’d pissed you off so much that you just wanted to use him for your own relief. You deserved this, even if he didn’t. He had a similar sentiment, your panties being pulled to your mid thighs.

The thick tip of his cock was breaching your sex without warning, mouth falling open while you were letting your forehead rest against the wall, mouth agape as his thick cock was bottoming out. “Oh, my fucking god.”

There was no time to waste, the large hands resting against your waist while his thick cock was pistoning inside of your tight cunt, a bruising grip keeping you in place. “Fuck. How does it feel to be a useless hole? Lord knows that nobody ever wants your fucking input or opinions.” His words were low, hips roughly snapping into yours as the echo of your skin smacking together filled the empty office.

“Spencer-” You began before one of his hands was over your mouth, muffling any attempt for you to speak. “Shut up.” He growled. You both had issues together but this encounter really symbolized that. Spencer used to be slow and sweet, hardly ever cursing or telling you some of the filthy things that had been falling from his lips. A moan was muffled against his hand while his eyes fluttered shut.

“Gonna cum. You’re gonna take everything that I give you.” His lips were against the shell of your ear, the words making your mouth fall open. With a few more thrusts, it wasn’t long until his spent was gushing deep inside of you, the feeling causing you to hit your own release shortly after.

Instead of getting the treatment that you were used to, he was pulling out of you and pulling up his boxers and pants. “Might wanna clean yourself up.” He commented, fluffing out his hair while walking to the closed office door.

The last thing you heard was the door open and the footsteps out of the room followed by a slam of the door.

That was one way to get over an argument.

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hoseokhasmyheartxx · 1 year

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Package Deal | MYG & JHS

*Pairing: Yoongi x f!Reader x Hoseok

*Word Count: 10k 😵‍💫

*Genre: EXPLICIT SMUT, MINORS DNI, let's be honest it's pwp, a bit of fluff, non-idol au, spring break au

*Warnings: *takes deep breath* here we go... mentions of past cheating, alcohol consumption, mentions of past violence, recreational weed use, the boys are a bad influence on mc in more ways than one, boys have to convince mc to participate, piv sex, oral (m., f. receiving), one (1) ass slap, breast/nipple play, it's a 3sum y'all, overstimulation (m., f. receiving), MxM undertones (nothing too explicit but.. there's a bit), cum swallowing (f), cum eating (MxM), use of pet names 'love' and 'baby', dom!Hoseok, switch!Yoongi, switch!Reader, protected and unprotected sex (be smart, ya perverts), begging (f, m), mentions of contraception, mc calls Yoongi 'good boy', 'good girl' is used too, mc squirts, aftercare, non-sexual shared showering... i think that's it

*Summary: Years have passed since you graduated high school in your small town. Spring break rolls around, and some familiar faces are back in town. You've always been the town's good girl. Will those familiar faces change that for you?

*A/N: oh boy. guys, this is just absolute filth and i am sorry (but also not). sope smut demons just took over and i dont even know where this shit came from. stay hydrated friends, this one's a doozy! 🤪

Part of btsafterdarknet's the boys are back in town event

Main Masterlist

“There’s a what next weekend?” you asked Soo-ah, reading the social media invite you’d both just received.

“TEN-YEAR REUNION SPRING BREAK PARTY” flashed on the screen in front of you. Below it, details and RSVP information were spelled out in italics. You groaned, knowing what was coming next.

“Oh! We have to go! Please?!” Soo-ah pleaded. You had done your best to block out the memories of the four years you’d spent in the hell called high school. It hadn’t been particularly torturous, but you were nothing short of ecstatic to leave that place, and the people, behind you when you first entered college. Soo-ah, on the other hand, still regularly saw friends from high school and reminisced on her time there. It didn’t surprise you that she’d want to attend this reunion.

“Seriously? It’s been ten years. I don’t want anything to do with those people!” you defended. Spending a Saturday night with people you barely remembered wasn’t exactly on your bingo card for the year, but apparently Soo-ah was going to be the one to handwrite it into the free space that was leftover.

“I don’t care. We’re going!” she responded, making the decision for you as she texted the RSVP number to confirm both of your attendance. You sighed, knowing you weren’t going to change her mind no matter what you tried.

“Fine. But you owe me,” you said, letting out an exasperated breath, rolling your eyes at your best friend. She was a pain in the ass, but you loved her. She’d stuck by your side for the last fifteen years, and had put up with her fair share of nonsense from you, so you could suffer through one night of nonsense for her.

Grocery shopping at night, alone, was one of your favorite things to do. The stores were always empty, peaceful. You meandered through the aisles, erasing items from the list on your phone as you tossed them into your cart. Stopping in front of the pasta section, you reached above your head to grab a box of your favorite, but it was just out of your reach. Bracing yourself on one of the shelves, you stood on your tiptoes, hoping those few extra inches would be enough for you to grab the box you wanted. Your fingertips only grazed the box, but just as you were about to give up on that particular brand, a lanky arm reached from just behind you and grabbed the box for you.

“Oh, thank— Hobi?” you asked incredulously as you took the box from his hand.

“The one and only, baby. I thought that was you. You haven’t changed a bit,” he answered, cocky smile matching his tone.

Jung Hoseok, better known as Hobi back in high school, was the town’s ex-resident bad boy, half (a very hot half) of a very well-known duo. He and his friends were always up to something, wreaking havoc everywhere they went. Constantly in detention, throwing wild parties, spending all of their free time getting high and definitely not doing any homework. His reputation as a player was well-known amongst everyone, too. From what you remembered, there probably wasn’t a single person in his crowd who he hadn’t slept with at one point or another. You’d steered clear of them, trying your hardest to maintain your girl next door image and straight-A record, hoping to gain admittance to the private university one city over. Your efforts had prevailed, and you were proud of the success you’d worked so hard to maintain over the last ten years.

“What are you doing back?” is all you could think to ask. It was eleven o’clock on a Thursday night, and you hadn’t seen Hobi, or any of his old friends, in years. Running into him here was nothing short of surprising.

“Didn’t you hear? The reunion is Saturday. Couldn’t miss that,” he shrugged.

“Ah. Yeah, should’ve figured. Soo-ah and I are going too.”

He chuckled, responding only with, “Well, I’ll see you ladies on Saturday then. How is Soo-ah, by the way?” He winked as he walked away, leaving you standing awkwardly at your cart, box of pasta still clutched in your hand.

As you wandered the aisles, finishing up your shopping, you couldn’t help but think, just our luck. You knew that Soo-ah had been involved with Hobi during your senior year. It had been just a casual thing. They were never exclusive, according to him. Unfortunately, Soo-ah had had her heart broken when she found that out. You wondered how she’d feel seeing him again. But then, you wondered…

Would he be there too?

You and Soo-ah walked to the entrance of the restaurant together. The reunion was being hosted at a large brewery in downtown. You’d only been there a few times before, but you knew it had a large open area for mingling, good food and drinks, but it was especially dark inside. Entering the restaurant, you were met with a sudden wave of chatter and laughter, loud music blaring. The place had basically been turned into a nightclub of sorts, making your stomach churn. You weren’t one to frequent places with loud music or crowds, but here you were, doing both for some stupid high school reunion.

“Let’s go grab a drink and find some of our old friends!” Soo-ah suggested as she pulled you by the arm toward the bar. Trying to calm your nerves, you settled on a mojito, knowing the alcohol in it would make you relax. Soo-ah ordered her usual drink that was probably ninety percent alcohol, making you turn your nose up at the smell wafting off her glass as she picked it up. You took a sip of your drink, eyes scanning the crowd for any familiar faces. You had to admit, you barely remembered anyone, but for Soo-ah, that wasn’t the case. She had already pointed out multiple people she wanted to catch up with.

Voices and faces all blurred together as Soo-ah dragged you from one group to another. You exchanged pleasantries, but frankly, you weren’t really interested in reliving the so-called glory days of high school with people you never even spoke to. It seemed like all everyone wanted to do was brag about their lives, which you were not interested in doing. Finishing your drink, you politely excused yourself, heading back to the bar for another round. Thankfully, there were a few open bar stools left, so you plopped down on one, waiting to get the bartender’s attention.

“This seat taken?” came a deep, low voice to your left. Turning your head to see the owner of the voice, your jaw dropped when you saw him.

Min Yoongi. The other half of the infamous duo you spent years trying to avoid. Except for the fact that, this half? Yeah, this half was the half you’d actively pined over all of high school. You knew he was bad news then, so all you’d done was admire him from afar. Not that he even knew who you were anyway.

“Uh.. um, no. Go ahead,” you responded, signaling to the bartender again, really needing another drink to get through whatever conversation was about to occur. Finally catching his eye, you breathed a sigh of relief as the bartender approached you.

“What can I get you?” the older man asked you with a gentle smile on his face. You rattled off your order, and he turned toward Yoongi. The smile previously on his face fell immediately. “Yoongi.”

“Mr. Cho. I’m good, I swear,” Yoongi defended, hands up as if in surrender. You tried to read the expression on his face, but failed. It was almost like… regret? Apology? You weren’t sure.

“Last time you were here, we closed with hundreds of dollars worth of damage because of you and your friends. A fight, if I remember correctly,” Mr. Cho continued, arms crossed over his chest.

Your eyes jumped between the two men, unsure if you should interrupt, stay quiet, leave? You decided, against your better judgment, to remain in your seat and stay quiet.

“That was years ago, Mr. Cho. I’m not like that anymore, promise,” Yoongi explained, going so far as to hold his pinky finger up in front of the older man, swearing on… something.

Mr. Cho rolled his eyes and continued, “What do you want?”

Yoongi ordered a glass of whiskey, neat. But what he said next took you by surprise. “Add hers to my tab, too.”

“Um— no, I’m fine. You don’t need to do that,” you interrupted, looking at him with a confused look on your face. All he did in response was wave his hand at you, as if to say, nonsense.

Mr. Cho turned away to prepare both of your drinks, leaving you and Yoongi alone at the bar.

“I’m ____,” you started awkwardly.

“I know who you are. How could I not? Hobi dated your friend for a bit, yeah?” he asked, taking a sip from the glass Mr. Cho placed in front of him.

Picking up your mojito, you gulped down more than you’d planned, but you weren’t a quitter. You swallowed, trying not to show the grimace playing at your lips.

“Not sure dated is the proper word, but yeah. Soo-ah was seeing him senior year. Until he conveniently forgot to mention to her that he was also seeing two other girls,” you snapped back.

Yoongi snickered, tipping his glass toward you. “Hey, from what I heard, they never had the ‘exclusive’ talk. So you can’t blame him,” he said with a half-shrug.

You couldn’t help rolling your eyes at him. Typical Yoongi, you thought. Defending Hobi like he’d done nothing wrong, even though he knew that wasn’t the case, was something he’d always done over the years. You weren’t sure why he even hung out with him, because they weren’t the same. Yoongi never really gave the impression that he was willingly going along with a lot of Hobi’s antics, but what did you know? You didn’t really know them.

“Hey. I’m not Hobi, alright? Take that shit out on him if you want. He’s over there,” he pointed, “but remember, it’s been ten years. And Soo-ah doesn’t seem to care.”

Turning around, you saw Soo-ah in a big group of people, Hobi included, laughing and drinking. She wasn’t really acknowledging his presence, but she wasn’t exactly ignoring him, either. Rolling your eyes, you realized that he was probably right.

“Sorry. Old grudges die hard, I guess.”

“It’s alright. How’s life been for you?” he asked.

The two of you fell into easy conversation then. Where and for what you’d gone to college, jobs, how you spent your free time. It was like talking to an old friend, but also, not really.

“So, yeah. My job is basically always stressful. This is the first time in, like, months that I’ve been out and haven’t gotten a call from my boss,” you finished. You moved to take another sip of your drink, but to your dismay, it was already empty. You frowned, looking over at Yoongi as he did the same thing. You erupted into a fit of giggles, and he followed suit, laughing heartily along with you.

“Damn,” you said, shaking your head, “didn’t realize I drank that that fast.”

“Want another?”

“No, I probably shouldn’t. I get hungover really easily and that’s the last thing I need,” you explained.

“Hmm. You ever smoked weed?” Yoongi questioned.

“Do I look like someone who’s ever smoked weed, Yoongi?” you laughed out. The thought alone was hysterical to you. The fact that he would think you had smoked before was even funnier. You had never done anything even remotely illegal; no underage drinking, no shoplifting, and surely no drug use. You were known as the goody two-shoes your entire life, and you knew that he knew that.

“Well, no,” Yoongi admitted with a laugh, “but you should give it a try. It’ll wipe that stress away so fast, you won’t even notice it anymore.”

You gave him an incredulous look, thinking that he definitely had to be joking. There was no way you were about to blemish your perfect reputation by smoking weed to relieve stress.

“I can show you,” Yoongi deadpanned, “if you want.”

You shook your head, laughing at him. “No thanks, I’m alright.”

Yoongi reached out and ran his fingers along the back of your hand. He looked at you, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“C’mon, live a little. Can’t you have some fun for once?”

“Min Yoongi. You don’t know me. Who says I don’t have fun?”

“Well, you’ve never smoked weed. That alone says you don’t have enough fun,” he chuckled.

You rolled your eyes. But the nagging voice in your head was beginning to eat away at you. Ten years ago, you would’ve done anything to get even the smallest bit of attention from Min Yoongi. And now, you were sitting here, having a one-on-one conversation with him for almost an hour, he was offering to spend even more time with you, and you were declining. Why?

It wasn’t in your nature to make impulsive decisions. You had meticulously thought-out plans for everything you did. But your intrusive thoughts were winning tonight, no matter how hard you fought them.

“Alright. Show me.”

Yoongi cocked his brow, seemingly surprised that you’d agreed. Before you had the chance to change your mind, however, he was standing, leaving a few bills on the bar to pay his tab, and grabbing your hand, leading you through the crowded restaurant and out the door.

The cool spring breeze outside was refreshing. You took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air. Walking a few steps behind Yoongi, hand still in his, you stumbled a bit, the alcohol catching up to you more now that you weren’t sitting.

“You good?” came Yoongi’s voice from ahead of you.

“Yepp, all good. Lead the way,” you giggled. You were pleasantly buzzed, and you hoped the feeling remained until you were confident enough around him without it. He led you down the crowded street, never letting go of your hand, until you reached a high-rise building, hotel name illuminated in the night sky.

“We’re staying here this weekend. C’mon,” he gestured toward the building.

Five minutes later, the two of you exited the elevator on the eleventh floor, and Yoongi guided you toward his room.

The fact that he had said ‘we’ downstairs was lost on you until he opened the door, holding it open for you to follow after him. You entered the room, setting your purse down on the dresser, and you noticed a third person already in the room, standing at the cracked-open window, joint between his fingers.

Hobi.

“___? No shit,” Hobi blurted out with a laugh, coughing a bit on his inhale.

“She needs to relax,” Yoongi explained, sly smirk on his face. You shrugged, unsure what to say other than to agree with him.

Hobi shot you a confused glance, obviously not expecting you to be one to join them in their late-night smoke session. “With us?”

“Shut up,” you snapped out in response, the words coming out more tense than you’d planned.

“Damn. You do need to relax,” Hobi laughed out. Yoongi had already joined him at the window, taking the joint from his hand and taking a hit for himself. He held the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds before slowly blowing it out the window. After letting out all of his inhale, he turned to face you. You were still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, not sure where to go or what to do.

“C’mere, love,” Yoongi said, beckoning you over to them. You didn’t miss the pet name he’d used, but you chose to ignore it. Walking hesitantly over to the window, you joined the two men, resting your body weight on the window sill with your elbow, facing them.

Yoongi and Hobi exchanged knowing glances as Hobi took another drag, puffing the smoke out calmly. His eyes were already appearing glazed over, a serene air overtaking his normal exuberant self. He held the joint out to you, a sickly sweet smile on his face.

“Your turn, baby,” Hobi breathed out, watching as you took it from him. You held the joint between your fingers, unsure what to do next. You began to feel stupid, like you definitely shouldn’t be there, until Yoongi took it back, taking a quick hit before speaking.

“We’ll take care of you. Don’t worry,” he reassured you, holding the joint up and putting it between your lips, “Just inhale a bit, slowly. Hold it in for a second, then let it out.”

Even with following his instructions, you still coughed a bit (or maybe a lot), but neither of them said anything. You were expecting Hobi to make fun of you, to say something sarcastic about you being too innocent, but he didn’t. Instead, he just watched you, silently observing. His dark eyes, although glazed over, still intimidated you after all these years. For whatever reason, you could never figure out why, but he had always had a very intense aura to him.

Thirty minutes later, the three of you had settled into a very comfortable, very giggly high. Hobi and Yoongi were sprawled out on their beds, while you stretched out sideways over an armchair, looking at the ceiling. The relaxation you felt was like nothing you’d ever experienced. You felt like you were floating, fully embracing the euphoria. Your brain was lagging a bit, taking extra seconds to decipher whatever Hobi and Yoongi were discussing. You had to admit, you still didn’t know, and you had barely been listening, so you only caught the tail end of their conversation.

“No! That’s ridiculous,” Hobi yelled out, a hand over his belly as he curled into the fetal position, laughing. Yoongi was laughing too, and then it became infectious, impossible for you to avoid following suit.

A few minutes of uncontrollable laughter later, Hobi got up from his bed to use the bathroom. You and Yoongi fell into silence as he disappeared. It didn’t surprise you that Hobi was even more obnoxious while high than he was normally, but you were struggling to figure out how Yoongi was taking his own high. He was giggly, just like you and Hobi, but other than that, he seemed almost like his normal, quiet self, maybe even quieter.

“Hey,” Yoongi spoke suddenly.

Tilting your head upside down to look at him as best as you could from your position, you responded, “Hey, yourself.”

“C’mere,” he called, holding an outstretched hand to you.

Brow cocked, you lifted yourself from the armchair and stumbled over to the side of his bed, looking at him quizzically, arms holding you up as you rested your palms on the mattress.

“What’s up?” you questioned.

“I’m just gonna be honest with you. I get stupid affectionate when I’m high. Come lay with me,” Yoongi requested.

“Uh— why me? Can’t you cuddle with Hobi or something?” you asked him, laughing at your own suggestion.

Yoongi laughed, but then declined your offer, shaking his head.

“Been there, done that. He gets weird,” he explained, looking up at you from his spot on the bed, head resting on his outstretched arm. “Besides, you’re a lot cuter than him anyway,” he finished, putting on a smirk.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his admission, unsure if it was the weed talking or if it was how he really felt. But his eyes never left you, and he stretched his arm out more, making grabby hands at you.

“Please, love?” he asked again, puppy eyes on full display. You cocked an eyebrow, watching as his facial expression turned to full-blown begging before you.

You sighed, turning to sit on the bed next to him. “Fine,” you said with an exasperated breath.

Before you had a chance to think, Yoongi was wrapping his arms around you, pulling you down to lay next to him. He snuggled into your side, attaching himself to you like a koala would a tree, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. It was a little awkward at first, but before long, you had relaxed more, sinking into the mattress underneath you.

“You two comfortable?” a voice came from the other side of the room, laughter erupting from Hobi as he flicked the main lights off and flopped down on his bed again. You and Yoongi laughed along with him, and you couldn’t help but to turn into his embrace, enjoying his warmth and the feeling of his body against yours. You draped your arm over him, drawing patterns on his back over his shirt, hearing him sigh with what you could only describe as bliss.

The room slipped into mostly comfortable silence, aside from Hobi watching funny videos on his phone, laughing out loud at almost all of them. Yoongi had fallen into a deep state of contentment, his breathing almost even with yours, as you continued rubbing his back. Without even noticing it yourself, you slipped your hand under the back of his shirt, wanting more contact with him, and his breath caught.

“This okay?” you asked him, not wanting to push any boundaries of his. He let out a hum, resting his arm over your lower stomach, fingertips dancing at your hip.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this relaxed,” Yoongi sighed, “you’re so fucking comfortable.”

You laughed. “Me too. And you’re warm.”

As the minutes passed, you noticed his hand slowly moving upward until his fingers were grazing your collarbone, drifting onto your neck. His face was still buried in the other side of your neck, but you felt him lift his head slightly as he whispered in your ear.

“You’re really, really hot.”

You whipped your head to the side, scooting back a little so you could see him better.

“Huh?” you asked incredulously, trying to suppress your laughter again.

He pulled you closer, lips pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the crook of your neck. You froze, your skin igniting under his touch. Your breathing hitched in your throat, your head spinning.

“I could make you feel so good,” he whispered, peppering kisses up your neck, his tongue occasionally darting out to lick at your skin.

“Yoongi, what the fuck?” you whispered back, laughter coming out this time. You weren’t sure if it was from the weed or your nerves, but you couldn’t stop giggling.

He, on the other hand, was not laughing.

“I’m serious,” he cocked his head at you, a wicked smile playing on his lips, “I know you feel it, too.”

You couldn’t deny that he was right. You weren’t usually a very touchy person, but from the minute he’d cuddled up against you, your brain had been short circuiting, the nerves under your skin like a live wire against him. You took a shaky breath, unsure how to respond. But then, a thought crossed your mind.

“What about Hobi?” you questioned, voice still a whisper, not wanting to attract the other man’s attention.

Yoongi snickered, hand moving to cup your cheek, as he closed in on you. Landing a soft kiss on your lips, he replied, “What about him?”

Suddenly, he was kissing you, the hand on your cheek moving to your neck, pulling you closer. His mouth engulfed yours, consuming you with desire. Your hand squeezed his waist from under his shirt, using the grip to pull your body against his. He ran his tongue along your lower lip, eliciting a quiet moan from you. He pulled back, breathing heavily, your faces still almost touching.

“We always wondered what it would be like to ruin you,” came a voice from behind you. You gasped. At some point in the time that you’d been distracted with Yoongi, Hobi had seen what was going on between the two of you, gotten out of bed, and walked to your side of Yoongi’s bed, all without you noticing.

You bolted upright, looking like a deer in headlights as you realized that you’d been caught. Nothing had really even happened, but your heart was about to beat out of your chest. Your nerves were on fire, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. Yoongi, however, was still laying down, eyes darting calmly between you and Hobi.

“Woah, woah. What do you mean, we?” you said, voice no longer a whisper, but a low shriek.

Hobi chuckled, shrugging his shoulders as he answered, “I said what I said. We’re kind of a package deal, baby.”

“What do you think, love?” came Yoongi’s deep voice from your other side.

You sat there, looking between the two men, brain still lagging from your high. Your relaxed state had quickly devolved into shock. You opened and closed your mouth, unable to find the words to respond.

“Let us make you feel good,” Hobi proposed, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder, fingers brushing along your skin gently.

“We won’t do anything you don’t want. But, from experience, fucking while high is so good,” Yoongi stated matter-of-factly.

You took a deep breath, your brain finally catching up with your mouth so you could speak.

“Uh- I’ve never.. um..” you started, trying to put the words together.

Yoongi sat up next to you, resting a hand on your thigh and squeezing it reassuringly. “We know. We can take care of you, love.”

You shuddered, breathing becoming erratic as you contemplated their proposition. Before tonight, you would have never even considered doing something like this. But your high, combined with how turned on you were from Yoongi’s efforts earlier, was clouding your judgment.

“If you’re uncomfortable, we’ll drop it and forget this ever happened. Go back to relaxing, get some food maybe. But if you’re into this…” Hobi continued, moving his hand to play with your neck and jawline, sending chills down your spine.

“Say yes. We promise you won’t regret it,” Yoongi finished, running his hand along your thigh as he leaned in to kiss you again.

You sighed as you returned his kiss, pulling back after a few seconds.

“Okay,” you finally decided, heart threatening to beat out of your chest. You watched as the two men looked at each other, exchanging understanding glances.

Then, without warning, Yoongi pulled you into an intense kiss. You melted into it, pliant under his lips, leaning into him as he gripped the back of your neck tightly. Your tongues danced, Yoongi eliciting a quiet moan from you as he sucked your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping at it gently. You held onto the side of his shirt tightly, knuckles turning white as you felt yourself get lost in him. Suddenly, you felt a second set of hands on you, running up and down your sides from behind you.

“Let us see,” Hobi whispered in your ear, tugging lightly at the hem of your shirt. You nodded against Yoongi’s mouth, giving him permission, willing yourself not to get too self-conscious. These were two of the most attractive men you’d ever laid eyes on, and they wanted you. It was hard to accept that fact in your mind, but what was happening in reality proved it to you. Hobi pulled the shirt off you in one swift motion, running his hands down your back, tracing the band of your bra as he did. His soft fingers danced along your spine, unhooking the band expertly. He pushed the shoulder straps down your front, letting Yoongi take over by pulling them the rest of the way off your arms and tossing the bra to the floor.

Hobi’s tight grip on your shoulders tore you out of your trance, still dizzy from being devoured by Yoongi’s mouth. He twisted you in his direction, pulling you by the neck with his other hand, engulfing you in a kiss with intensity that overshadowed Yoongi’s by a long shot. They were both great kissers, but there was something about Hobi’s that completely destroyed you. All thoughts left in your mind were drained as you entangled your hand in his hair, shifting up onto your knees to get a better angle. Hobi lifted you by the waist, settling you over his lap, pulling you closer to him, hands resting on your ass. The mattress shifted, and you felt Yoongi’s hands cup your breasts, gently kneading them from behind you.

“Fuck,” Yoongi breathed out, rolling your nipples between his fingers, drawing little whines from you as Hobi worked to unbutton the jeans you were wearing. You grabbed his hands, stopping him from going any further.

“Nuh uh, this isn’t fair,” you giggled, taking the bottom of his shirt in your hands and swiftly pulling it over his head. You couldn’t help but to ogle him. His warm honey skin tone was mesmerizing as you dragged your eyes down his torso, taking in his prominent collarbones, toned chest and abs, to the subtle trail of hair leading down beneath the waistband of his jeans. Your breath hitched as you traced your fingers along his clavicles, watching as he dropped his head back against the headboard. That position only made him more enticing, showcasing his neck, Adam’s apple jutting out. Yoongi’s lips touched the space where your neck met your shoulder, sucking gently as he continued massaging your breasts from behind.

“She’s so fucking beautiful, isn’t she?” Hobi asked out loud, lifting his head, eyes shooting behind you to Yoongi.

“Mmhmm, she is,” Yoongi replied, continuing his ministrations on your neck and shoulders. You sat up straighter, arching your back, resting your head on his chest.

“Yours too, now,” Hobi said with a nod of his head. Confused, you lifted your head to look at him, and it clicked. They’ve done this before. And it was obvious there was a certain… dynamic, between the two of them. You tilted your head to glance back at Yoongi, watching as his eyes answered for him. It was almost as if he was cowering, afraid to say no. You felt his hands drop from your chest as he nudged you, pushing you forward a bit.

Yoongi swiftly pulled his shirt off from behind you, and your eyes immediately followed the loss of fabric. His pale skin stood out in the dark room, and you could see the slight definition of his chest and stomach. Not as toned as Hobi, but still attractive to you, although in a different way.

“Can I undo these, baby?” Hobi questioned, pulling at the button of your jeans again. You nodded, biting your lower lip as you once again willed your nerves away. His fingers moved deftly, popping the button open in no time at all. The zipper came next, then he pulled you up by your belt loops, taking you off of his lap and gesturing for you to sit on the bed next to him.

Yoongi made his way over to you, sitting on your other side. His hand came up to push your curled hair behind your ear as he whispered, “You trust me, right?” You gulped, slowly nodding again. Words were failing you, your anxiety bubbling up in your stomach. “You trust us?”

Your eyes darted between the two men. With Yoongi, things were easy; he felt safe. But Hobi, you weren’t sure about. He didn’t exactly feel unsafe, but he was harder to read, harder to open up to.

“Hey, I know he’s a little intense sometimes. But he’s chill. It’ll be okay,” Yoongi reassured you, hand stroking your cheek lightly. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“Just… take it slow, okay?” you requested.

“We’ll take it as slow as you need, baby. Just relax,” Hobi chimed in, shooting you a small smirk. With that, he hopped out of the bed, his erection prominently on display despite his tight jeans. As he walked over toward the window, Yoongi pulled you into him, his soft lips connecting with yours again. You sighed, letting him take the lead on the kiss, opening your mouth for him to explore. It was easy to get lost in him, easy to almost forget about the third person in the room.

“Here. Take a few more hits. It’ll help you relax again,” Hobi said from the window, blowing smoke out with a deep exhale. He joined the two of you at the side of the bed, handing you the joint again. You inhaled deep, this time more prepared for the burn of smoke to your throat. You exhaled slowly, feeling your high reignite almost immediately. You handed the joint back to Hobi, and he pressed it to Yoongi’s lips, allowing him a few short inhales before taking it back and returning to the window.

“Better?” Yoongi asked, his eyes searching yours. You breathed deeply, nodding, a small smile spreading across your face. Hobi joined you on the bed again, flicking the bedside light on as he did, his lanky arms falling around your shoulders as he pulled you to rest in between his legs, your back against his chest.

“This okay?” he breathed into your ear, his hands wandering slowly down to your breasts as you nodded. “Use your words, we need to hear you.”

“Y-yeah, it’s okay,” you responded, and you let out a quiet whine as his thumb and forefinger closed around your nipple, pinching gently, sending shocks through you. Hobi’s skin against your back was warm, soft. He nudged your cheek with his nose, tipping your face to the side as he began kissing and sucking on your neck. Every kiss made you hotter, made your breathing more ragged.

“You know,” Hobi started, his tongue tracing a line down your neck, “Yoongi is really good with his tongue too.”

You shivered, glancing over at Yoongi, who was still beside you, palming his hard cock over his jeans now, eyes on you.

“Show her how good you can be,” Hobi directed at Yoongi, raising his eyebrows as if daring him to object. Yoongi raised himself up onto his knees, leaning over to kiss the other side of your neck, trailing soft lips down to your collarbone and back up to your ear.

“Can I?” Yoongi asked you gently. You nodded, whispering a hushed yes in response. With that, Yoongi positioned himself in front of you, reaching for your unbuttoned jeans. “Say something if you want me to stop,” he said as he hooked his fingers into your waistband and tugged. Awkwardly, you lifted yourself to help him, and then you were pantsless; black, lace panties on display for the two men to admire.

Yoongi placed his flattened palms on the tops of your thighs, running them upward until he reached the hem of your panties. Fingers playing with the lace adorning your hips, his breath caught as his thumbs ran gently over your clothed mound. You squirmed, pushing your back harder against Hobi’s chest, hearing him chuckle in your ear.

“So pretty..” Yoongi murmured, eyes never leaving yours, questioning you. You nodded in response, knowing he was asking permission to take off the only garment you had left. He moved quickly, removing the panties effortlessly.

It was weird, being so exposed, naked in front of them, when all they were missing were shirts. Your anxiety revved up again, and you took a few breaths, not wanting to show your fear. “Um.. can you— can you take your pants off? Please? I’m a little self-conscious and I’ll feel better if we’re more even,” you said with a chuckle, feeling stupid to even be asking. Yoongi shot you an understanding smile, nodding.

“Sure, love. Anything you want. Hobi?”

Hobi tapped your bicep lightly, moving you out of his way. The two men stood, unbuckling belts and shimmying out of tight jeans in tandem. You couldn’t help but stare. In the light, they were even more gorgeous. Boxer briefs hugging their thighs tightly, erections on display for you to ogle. Your mouth dropped open, breath catching as your mind went haywire. This is it, you thought, this is really happening.

You weren’t the only one staring. It was subtle, but Hobi was still very obviously looking over at Yoongi’s hardened cock, tongue darting out over his bottom lip in desire. You had questions, but it wasn’t your place to ask them, so you let them go, opening yourself up to whatever was going to happen.

“You guys are so… ugh,” you scoffed, unable to contain your giggles. The two men came to join you on the bed again, taking their old positions; Hobi behind you, caressing your breasts and stomach, Yoongi between your legs, eyeing your bare pussy.

“Go on, then,” Hobi instructed, “make her feel good like we promised.” With his statement, he took one of your thighs in his hand and pulled it to the side, spreading you for Yoongi.

“Ah— fuck!” you cried out, not expecting Yoongi’s sudden onslaught to your pussy. He was quick. In the few seconds since you’d closed your eyes, tilting your neck to give Hobi access to it, he’d dropped down onto his stomach and buried his tongue in your folds. Gripping your other thigh, he was relentless. He worked his tongue from your clit to your entrance with wet, languid movements. Your hips bucked, your hand finding purchase in his long, dark hair. Hobi continued licking and sucking on your neck, fingers rolling and pinching at your nipples. The sensory overload had your head lolling back, eyelids drooping as you let out short little moans.

“No, baby. Eyes open, watch him,” Hobi murmured in your ear, voice dripping with mirth. You fought to keep your eyes open, your vision blurring as Yoongi sucked gently on your clit, watching you. You watched as he took his free hand, sucked seductively on the index and middle fingers, then brought them to your entrance, slowly inserting them into your cunt. You cried out again, your pleasure increasing tenfold with the added sensation. He twisted his fingers and hooked them just right, finding the spongy spot inside you in no time, slowly, rhythmically dragging them along your walls.

“Can you cum for us, love?” Yoongi asked you with a smirk, flattening his tongue and licking wide stripes up and down your cunt. Your body reacted, shaking as you got closer and closer to the edge.

“Yoongi— yesyesyes,” the words tumbled out as you came, your hips bucking as he gripped your thigh tightly, holding you in place to work you through your orgasm. His tongue never stopped, lapping at your juices as you gushed around his fingers again and again. You tried to escape his ministrations, but Hobi kept you still, shushing in your ear, chuckling at you.

“I was right, wasn’t I? He’s so good…” Hobi whispered to you, dragging his hands along your torso to rest on your still-moving hips. “I think she’s had enough for now,” he directed at Yoongi, who reluctantly pulled away, wiping his glistening lips and chin with the back of his hand.

You breathed deeply, gasping for air, feeling like your soul had left your body. You didn’t know what the fuck had just happened, but you didn’t have time to think about it because Hobi was pushing you up and off of his chest, crawling around you and over to Yoongi. You collapsed onto the bed as Hobi took hold of Yoongi’s neck and kissed him, then used his tongue to lap the remaining slick off Yoongi’s chin. “Can’t wait to taste you myself later,” he shot at you with a smirk, dark eyes glinting in the dim lighting.

You giggled, unsure how to reply. You knew what you wanted to do next though, so you sat up, ignoring your shaking thighs to get onto your knees. Sitting on your heels, you hesitantly reached out, tracing down the abdomen of both men with your fingertips, playfully snapping the waistbands of their boxer briefs. “Take these off,” you ordered, trying to sound confident.

“Oh, she’s bossy,” Yoongi laughed out, biting his lower lip with a smirk. Without another word, the two men moved to remove their boxer briefs, leaving you on the bed, mouth agape as you stared. You couldn’t decide where to look. They were mesmerizing, naked in front of you. Your eyes moved up and down their bodies, one at a time, taking them in. You gestured for them to come back to the bed, and they did with no hesitation. Before you could chicken out, you went straight to Hobi, pulling him into a kiss. He reacted, kissing you back, hands holding the sides of your neck. As the two of you kissed, tongues chasing each other for control, you reached out to your side. Breaking the kiss for a quick second, you glanced down, reaching for Yoongi. Finding his hip, you scratched your nails across his lower abdomen, then down his pelvis. You wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping him slowly, teasingly. He hissed, hips bucking at the feeling.

Going back to kissing Hobi, still stroking Yoongi, your usual filter was gone. You broke the kiss once again, leaning in, kissing and nipping at his neck and throat. As you got to the space right below his ear, you whispered, “Fuck me, Hobi. Please.” His grip tightened on your neck just slightly, and you felt Yoongi’s cock react to your words as he whined in response. You looked over at him, chuckling a bit as you said, “Don’t worry, you’ll get me too,” licking your lower lip seductively.

With that, Hobi pushed you back onto your heels, grabbing your waist to flip you over onto your stomach. Before you could even react, he pulled your waist up to position you on all fours, his hand running across your lower back gently. “This okay?” he asked you, voice less cocky than normal. You could feel his fingers running along your ass, spreading you open for the both of them to see.

“Ye–,” you choked out, stopping mid-word as Hobi ran his fingers along your folds, collecting your juices from your entrance before inserting them. You yelped, oversensitive from your previous orgasm, but it didn’t take long before your pleasure was building again. Hobi was skilled, that was for sure. The way he crooked his fingers just right, hitting all your spots, was almost enough to throw you over the precipice a second time. That is, until he stopped. “Hobi,” you whined, breathing heavily with your face in the pillow under you.

“Don’t worry baby, we said we’d take care of you,” Hobi reassured. You heard a ripping sound, presumably from a condom wrapper, and then felt his hands gripping your waist. Your body jerked as you felt the head of his cock rubbing your clit. “Shh, relax for me,” he said as he inserted the tip of his cock in your cunt. The stretch was more than you’d expected, but Hobi took his time with you, pushing inch by inch into your pussy, until he finally bottomed out against your ass, hands still gripping your waist tightly.

Yoongi had climbed around onto the head of the bed, sitting close to where your face was still buried in the pillows. You looked up at him from the corner of your eye, watching his large hand begin pumping his cock as he watched you. Using his other hand, he pushed your hair off your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?”

You smiled at him, reaching up to touch his hand. He squeezed yours, but the intimate moment was interrupted by Hobi thrusting into you for real for the first time. You cried out, grasping the sheets as you were lurched forward. Looking up at Yoongi again, you were met with his signature smirk and a chuckle, followed by, “Sorry, love.”

His teasing tone left you wanting to do some teasing of your own. You picked yourself up as best as you could through Hobi’s thrusts, resting on your elbows. “Need some help with that?” you asked Yoongi, watching him jerk himself off, hoping your sultry tone had come through the way you’d wanted. He eyed you, biting his lip again. There’s something about that damn lip bite… you thought.

Yoongi lifted himself off the bed, kneeling now. He took your chin in between his thumb and forefinger, using his thumb to pull your bottom lip down. You stared up at him, batting your eyelids, as you kitten-licked the pad of his thumb, making him hiss. You leaned forward, placing gentle kisses on his abdomen, trailing them down his pelvis until you reached his cock. Looking up at him, you slowly ran your tongue along his length, from base to tip, admiring the prominent vein running down it. Yoongi groaned, throwing his head back in pleasure. Holding yourself up with one hand, you gripped the base of his cock with the other, steadying yourself, still on Hobi’s cock as he continued drilling into you.

With Yoongi’s cock in your hand, it was easy to tell that he was one of the biggest you’d had. You knew you had relatively small hands, but seeing your fingers barely close around him excited you. Continuing your teasing, you dragged your tongue up and down, swirling it around the tip before taking it in your mouth. Your lips spread tight, you slowly bobbed your head, taking more of him in each time. Yoongi’s groaning egged you on, making you focus on giving him pleasure to the point where you almost didn’t notice Hobi still behind you. That is, until he lifted one knee and thrusted into you from a different angle, eliciting a loud moan from you as Yoongi’s cock was shoved to the back of your throat. Trying your best not to gag, you relaxed your throat muscles, swallowing around him. His hips bucked, his hands holding your hair back in a makeshift ponytail as he began fucking into your throat. You had basically no control at this point, being jostled back and forth by both men.

“Tap my thigh if it’s too– fuuuck– too much,” Yoongi gasped, barely able to get the words out as you hollowed your cheeks on his next thrust into your mouth. With that, you tapped his thigh a few times, making him stop immediately and pull out of your mouth. His breathing was ragged, cheeks flushed, sweat collecting on his forehead.

“Can I ride you?” you asked Yoongi innocently.

“Fuck– yes, please,” he responded, and Hobi stopped too, pulling out before looking down at you.

“Baby, I’m not gonna last much longer,” Hobi breathed out, giving you a smirk as he smacked the side of your ass. “Your pussy is so fuckin’ good.”

You watched as the two men adjusted positions, Yoongi lying on his back and Hobi kneeling on the bed next to him. Yoongi ripped open a condom wrapper, sheathing himself quickly before grabbing you by the waist and situating you over his pelvis. Grabbing his cock, you rubbed him through your folds, moaning at the sensation. You lined him up with your entrance, slowly sinking down on him. Your moans tumbled out as you began riding him.

“Your tits look so good bouncing like that,” Hobi complimented you, and you shot an innocent smile his way as you upped your pace, leaning back to show yourself off a little more. You used one hand to balance yourself on Yoongi’s thigh, the other to begin jerking Hobi off. He’d removed the condom once he pulled out of you, so he was still slick from the lube on the inside of it, making your hand move smoothly up and down his shaft. He was about the same length as Yoongi, but had more girth, which explained the stretch when he was fucking you.

“Let me suck your dick, please, Hobi?” you pleaded as Yoongi lifted you up and pounded you down onto his dick again and again. Hobi smirked at you as he lifted himself up onto his knees more, and you bent down to reach him easier.

“Bossy and a filthy mouth? Where’d this come from?” Hobi taunted, grabbing your chin to force you to look at him.

“You bring it out,” you answered with a smirk, taking one last look up at him before you sank your mouth down onto his cock, breathing through your nose, taking him all in. Hobi immediately groaned, moving his hand from your chin to your hair, pushing it back away from your face to get a better look at you.

Riding Yoongi and sucking Hobi’s dick at the same time proved to be a challenge. They were both so needy; Yoongi whining underneath you as you brought him closer to release, Hobi trying his hardest not to fuck your throat too hard. I’m not a quitter, you thought for the second time that night, hyping yourself up. It was much easier for you to focus solely on Yoongi, and let Hobi use your mouth the way he saw fit.

Yoongi pulled your chest down to meet his, pulling you away from Hobi to engulf you in a passionate, sloppy kiss as you continued grinding on him, rocking your hips back and forth on his pelvis for stimulation on your clit. You moaned into his mouth, reaching over to pump Hobi’s cock as you kissed Yoongi. Pulling away, Yoongi kissed up the side of your neck to your ear, gripping the back of your neck as he did so.

“Love… are you on the pill?” he whispered, earning a quizzical look from you. You nodded, unsure where he was going with his question. His grip on your neck tightened as he whined again, then finished with, “I’m clean… Can I cum inside you? Please…” His breathing was ragged, his thrusting up into you becoming erratic.

“Please,” you whimpered, nodding again as you pulled yourself off of him, giving him room to remove the condom. Hobi looked down at you again, moving to go back to fucking your throat. You brought your face all the way to his pelvis, swallowing around his cock as you bobbed your head, hollowing your cheeks on each movement.

“Fuck, baby, lemme cum in your mouth,” Hobi groaned, pushing your head farther down on his dick. You flattened your tongue on the underside of his shaft, swirling it around the tip each time he pulled out. You felt his cock begin to pulse, and you hollowed your cheeks more, sucking harder as he shot his cum into your mouth. You swallowed, warm liquid coating your throat. Hobi’s moans rang in your ears as you continued running your tongue along his dick. He shook, holding your hair as you milked him into overstimulation. You gripped his hips, not letting him pull away as you playfully sucked on just the tip of his cock, enjoying hearing his whimpers until you finally stopped.

“Baby.. f-fuck, that was so good,” Hobi stuttered, collapsing back onto his heels before falling back onto the bed. His breathing was shaky as he looked at you, his eyes roaming over your naked body with admiration. You smirked, patting his thigh playfully as you looked back down at Yoongi.

His eyes had darkened, his pupils blown with lust. You reached for his cock, rubbing his now-bare tip through your folds, listening to him whimper. You chuckled, then lined him up with your entrance, lowering yourself down onto him. He groaned, hands going to grip your waist. Instead, you smacked them away, a new idea coming to mind. You took both of his hands in yours and pinned them at each side of his head as you began riding him again. You heard his breath catch in his throat, and you knew… mission accomplished.

“Awh, you like being restricted, hmm?” you asked, giggling, watching his face for his reaction. He stared up at you, puppy eyes watching your every move.

“Love.. don’t do this to me,” he huffed out, chuckling a bit. Your eyes met his, a glint of seduction playing in yours.

“Do what?” you teased, clenching your pussy a few times around his cock. “Are you gonna be a good boy and cum for me?”

Yoongi groaned, gripping your hands tightly in his. You continued bouncing on him, rolling your hips the way you’d figured out he liked. It wasn’t long before he was panting, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure. “Make- let me cum, love. Please,” he breathed out, choosing his words carefully, begging you.

Yoongi’s body shuddered as he let out a loud moan. You finally coaxed his orgasm out of him, the sounds he made almost making you cum along with him. You leaned down to kiss him, still holding his hands down at the side of his head, licking and sucking on his bottom lip as you rolled your hips a few more times. His moans turned to whines and whimpers, including a few curse words. “St- Stop, please, baby. Too sensitive,” he gasped out. You stopped moving, kissing him a few more times before lifting yourself off of him and collapsing on the bed next to him, breathing heavily yourself now. Whether that was from the overexertion, or the fact that you were so close to a second orgasm, you weren’t sure, but you couldn’t help but giggle a little, throwing one hand over your face, covering yourself.

You felt hands on your raised knees, the strong grip letting you know it was Hobi as he pushed your knees apart gently. You uncovered your face, watching as he stared down at your spread pussy, Yoongi’s cum dripping out of you.

“You think you can give us one more?” Hobi asked, smirk playing at his lips as Yoongi ran his hand across your stomach to grab your breast, squeezing and playing with the nipple, sending jolts of pleasure through you. You whined and nodded your head, oversensitive but still wanting more.

Hobi leaned down, using his fingers to smear Yoongi’s leaking cum around the lips of your pussy. With that, he licked a broad stripe from your hole up to your clit, kissing your bud gently before looking up at you. “You taste so good, fuck,” he groaned, continuing his attack on you as you bucked your hips.

He flicked his tongue rapidly, the sound of his face in contact with your wetness turning you on even more. “Ah— Hobi,” you whimpered, “fuuuck, you’re so good with your tongue!”

He chuckled as he began lewdly sucking on your clit, using two fingers to fuck into you slowly at first, then picking up the pace as your body reacted. Your whines and moans tumbled out, but in the middle of a particularly loud cry of ohfuckfuckfuck, you were cut off by Yoongi’s mouth overtaking yours.

Yoongi leaned over you, kissing you deeply, massaging your breast with one hand, the other hand tangling in your hair. It was hard to concentrate, squirming under him as Hobi brought you closer and closer to your high. You found yourself bringing one hand down to entangle in Hobi’s hair, using the other to hold onto Yoongi’s wrist as you kissed him. Your grip on his wrist tightened as your senses were attacked from all directions.

“That’s it love, such a good girl for us,” Yoongi rasped, breaking the kiss to watch your face as you cried out fuckfuckfuck once again. Your body shook uncontrollably, Hobi’s fingers hooking your g-spot as you came. Yoongi kissed you once more, swallowing your moans as you drenched the sheets below you in your release.

“Shit, you’re a squirter too? Jesus, you’re perfect,” Hobi growled, still fucking into you with his fingers, lapping at the juices coming from your pussy, helping you ride your high all the way through. You struggled to close your thighs, trying to escape his tongue, but both of the men gripped one each to keep them spread. Your oversensitivity overtook you, choked sobs escaping your lips as all you could do was let them have their way with you.

“Fuu— please, Hobi, please!” you cried out, begging him to stop before you quite literally almost passed out from the sensations. Your vision blurred in and out, seeing stars as you mentally blacked out momentarily.

Hobi continued his teasing escapades on your cunt, licking gently as your body trembled underneath him. You pulled at his hair, trying to disconnect his mouth from you, to no avail.

Yoongi reached down, tapping Hobi’s shoulder and giving him a pleading look. “C’mon, I think she’s done,” he argued tenderly, tilting his head questioningly. Hobi finally pulled away, wiping his mouth with his hand as he raised himself back up onto his knees.

You laid there, curling yourself into the fetal position as you tried to get your breathing back in check. You shivered, aftershocks from your orgasm hitting you still. You felt the mattress behind you dip down as a warm body came into your space, pale arms enclosing you in a back hug. Yoongi nuzzled his lips into your hair, pressing sweet kisses to the back of your head, rubbing his hands along your arms to warm you.

“You okay, love?” Yoongi whispered into your hair, trying his best to comfort you. You nodded, clutching his arm in your hand to reassure him.

Hobi joined your cuddle on the other side, turning to face you, cupping your cheek in his palm as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “I didn’t hurt you, did I, baby?” he questioned.

You shook your head, taking a breath before answering him. “No, I’m good. That was just… really intense.”

You felt both men shake as they chuckled, both doing their best to give you the aftercare you needed. “What do you need?” Yoongi asked.

“Do you wanna stay?” Hobi asked, swiping his thumb across your cheek. You reached out with the hand that wasn’t holding Yoongi’s arm, resting it over Hobi’s side.

You didn’t know what you needed, but the desire to have physical contact with both men was overwhelming. Your shivers still hadn’t stopped, prompting Yoongi to pull you closer into him. Hobi scooted closer too, enveloping you in tangled legs and warm chests from both sides.

“Do you want me to stay?” you wondered out loud. The arms of both men tightened around you, giving you the answer to your question.

“Please stay,” Yoongi requested from behind you, Hobi nodding his head in agreement. You sighed, a feeling of complete contentment taking hold of you.

“Okay, I’ll stay,” you agreed, “but I want to shower.”

The three of you untangled yourselves to head to the bathroom. Showering together proved to be a difficult feat, the hotel shower not being built for three. Somehow, you made it work though. You took turns washing, Hobi and Yoongi both wanting to be the one to help you wash your hair. You giggled over their disagreement, settling on Hobi with the stipulation that you would, in turn, wash Yoongi’s hair for him.

Exiting the shower, you did your best to dry off in the tiny bathroom together. This resulted in laughs, knocked over toiletries on the bathroom counter, and more than one occurrence of someone almost falling over. You changed into borrowed clothes, an oversized t-shirt from Yoongi and joggers from Hobi.

Climbing into the unused bed, the three of you curled up together, snuggling in each other’s arms. The softness of these men surprised you. They clearly had personalities they didn’t show very often, only in private and not to most people. But for some reason, they were showing those sides of themselves to you. They had shown you that reputations weren’t important, that people’s pasts didn’t define them. More importantly, they had shown you that your own reputation wasn’t something you should care about the way you always had.

Your eyes fluttered closed, drifting in and out of sleep. Right before you fell asleep, you heard Yoongi’s deep, raspy voice from behind you whisper, “We didn’t ruin you like we said we would earlier. You ruined other women for us.”

You were beginning to think the same was true for them too.

#bts smut #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #jhope smut #hoseok smut #jhope fic #jhope fanfic #hoseok fic #hoseok fanfic #btsafterdarknet #bangtanstreet23 #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive

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partycatty · 3 months

Note

Right hear me out on the new johnny skin

Please can you write something for this ugly bitch the shock worn off and now im delusional

(Im sorry for asking for this he just looks so stupid i couldnt not)

I HATE YOU FOR REMINDING ME OF THIS ALLGAHJGIAKG

johnny cage > carrot

oh my god he looks like a carrot

warnings: look at him.

[ masterlist ]

you're sitting on johnny's couch, as it's become a regular occurrence for you to waste your time in his home. your phone becomes your best friend nearly every time, as his career of being a celebrity commonly rips his attention from you more than you're happy with. your bubbling frustration with the situation dies down when you hear his front door unlock.

"babe," he calls through the cracked door. his voice is high pitched, like he's hiding something and ashamed about it. "i-i need you to do me a favor."

"yeah?" you reply, eyes still transfixed on your phone for the moment.

"i lost a bet," he shamefully admits. "and i need you to not laugh. if you laugh, i will die."

"you'll die?" you repeat, now intrigued by whatever he's on about. he falls silent, the door barely opening more.

"baby," he tries to sound sweet but it sounds closer to him being on the verge of tears. "is it true... that thing... where like, you lose feelings if your man gets one bad haircut?"

oh, no.

"depends," you shrug, making your way to the door. "if you buzzed it, i won't be able to look at you until it grows back."

"i didn't... buzz it," he mutters. "it's... please don't laugh."

his dodging is starting to confuse and annoy you, so you walk over and pull the door completely open. the sight in front of you pulls a horrified gasp, which then turns into amusement like you've never seen. johnny's hair was gone on the sides, and a vomit-green wisp sat on top. johnny frowns with large eyes. it kind of reminds you of that really sad hamster meme. maybe if you focused enough you could imagine sad violin music at the scene.

"jo—" your attempt at saying his name comfortingly is ripped apart when a snort creeps up on you, and you slap a hand over your mouth. tears well up in your eyes as you fight for your life to not laugh.

"don't," he pleads, arms flopping to his sides. "don't laugh."

you let out a cackle through your hand, slapping another hand over it in a stupid attempt to hold it in.

"it's not funny—" in a while, you think, it wouldn't be. sure, he has the haircut, but you're the one looking at it regularly. "it's not funny."

"you're laughing. i will die."

"how in the genuine fuck did this come to be." your eyes feel like they're going to pop out of your skull from straining yourself so hard. johnny can't even look at you as he explains.

"kung lao and i made a bet that i could cut more fruit than him with his hat."

"you bet your appearance on a hat that's not yours."

"it didn't look that hard! it's a sharp hat!"

"okay, so how did the... haircut come to be??"

"he..." johnny rubs his face, groaning. "he had me walk into a barber and told the guy to fuck my shit up. he said that to the barber. oh my god i look like an idiot, don't i."

"you..." you search for something, anything to compliment him on. your eyes settle on his orange button-up and you stifle a snort. "you kind of look like a carrot."

johnny pulls his head up to meet your eyes. "what."

"it's... it's kinda cute," you murmur with the most strained grin of your life. you step forward and grab the entirety of the hair left on his head, tugging upward. "it's like... plucking you from the soil."

"ow. you're an asshole," he adds, not entirely serious. you try so hard to keep it together, so hard. but his furrowed brows, frown, and carrot-coordinated outfit finally make you snap. you double over in laughter, similar to a hyena. it is quite literally the funniest thing you'd ever seen in your entire life and you laugh so hard you lose your breath.

"IT'S NOT FUNNY!" johnny pouts, stomping his foot and crossing his arms while you howl and slap him around as you try to ground yourself. "I LOOK LIKE A DUMBASS."

"OH MY GOD I'M LOSING IT, I'M GONNA THROW UP— YOU LOOK LIKE A CARROT —"

"STOP SAYING THAT."

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mk1 #johnny cage x reader #marley writes ☆

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piratefishmama · 5 months

Text

Fake it till you Make it | Part 20

So now, he was sat in a car, with a rich older man.

To some little queer boys, this would be a dream come true, especially since the older man wasn’t half bad in terms of looks, that all American square jaw, strong nose, the works. Plus… rich.

But this wasn’t a rich older man whisking him away, no, this was Steve Harrington’s regularly absent father taking him grocery shopping.

It’d been a wild day.

“So…” Eddie didn’t do well with silence. Silence never sat right with him. Had to fill it somehow, be it with silly noises, random singing, or conversation with any person in his vicinity. “They uhm, they do that often?”

“It’s a family thing, I think we’re all as bad as each other.” At least he was self-aware, the eldest Harrington still watching the road as they drove through the small town, he knew where he was going though, each turn done as if he’d driven the route enough to do it blindfolded. “Lynda’s a lawyer so, that should explain that” loved being right, it was her job to be right, even if she was actually wrong, she had to make out like she was right and she did it well. “I’m a middle child” explained both everything and nothing at all, “and Steven… I think he got a little bit of both of us. I’d have thought you’d be used to that though, since you’re dating him.”

“Ah-haha, I mean… don’t get me wrong, I’ve always known about Steve’s uhm… how to phrase this… mean girl streak?” John snorted a little laugh, emboldened, Eddie continued, “he’s like everyone’s disappointed mother, always with the little—” Eddie shifted in his seat, just about managing to put his hands on his hips and cock them weirdly in place “pose that he does when he’s oh so very disappointed in you. I used to thrive on it back in high school, whenever he’d catch Tommy H or the other basketball goons bullying the kids, he’d just stand there like he’d caught his kids with their hands in the cookie jar, an they’d actually just… cower, like he could actually do anything to them. It was the funniest shit I’d ever seen.”

It'd actually been quite the surprise when that’d happened the first time, it didn’t happen often, Steve had been a douchebag, not the ‘shove your head in a toilet’ kind of douchebag, or the ‘shove Gareth in a locker’ kind of douchebag.

No, he was the mega bitch douchebag who could flash a smile and drop every set of panties in his immediate vicinity, he was the douchebag who KNEW he could do that. Who carried himself high with the knowledge, lording it over everyone without… ever actually lording it, it was a presence kind of thing. An attitude.

And maybe, occasionally, he’d have been the douchebag who didn’t really see anyone unless he wanted to see them, didnt really pay any attention to those not on his radar, those not in his friend group, which led to many an accidental shoulder check, which had in turn led to Eddie’s own personal little vendetta because he’d lost one of his prized mini figs to the underside of the Hawkins High trophy case when Steve had walked by a little too close and shoved him just hard enough to send Eddie’s shit flying.

Had just kept walking as if he hadn’t even seen him. Asshole.

It was only when he’d first been seen hanging around Wheeler that his personality had shifted toward something reasonably human. Thanks Wheeler, the sacrifice of your time and patience hath created a god among men.

“So he was never… bad then?”

“Nah” no sense bad mouthing the boyfriend, that wouldn’t get him anywhere. “Real Prince Charming in a perfectly pressed polo shirt. He’s amazing, sir… you have nothing to worry about with Steve, he’s… one in a million.” Now anyway.

“Good. Good.” And then he fell silent, the quiet stretch lasting nearly five minutes with only the faint music playing on low volume from the radio to fill that silence, until the eldest Harrington pulled the car into a quiet carpark, and parked. “Here we are!” Oh thank Christ.

“We can't keep doing this.” Steve was the first one to speak up during their mutual living room silent treatment, finally looking at this mother after nearly an hour of watching a gentle snowfall that’d started outside. He hoped it wouldn't get heavier before Eddie got back.

“I have no idea what you—”

“Mom.” Steve cut her off, his eyes sharp and tone firm. “We can’t keep doing this. This bickering, this who’s right who’s wrong shit, we’ve gotta stop, at least here.” If not for their own sanity, but for the image he was giving Eddie of his family life.

Of what he might possibly maybe be getting himself into if Steve could actually swing a real relationship by the end of the week. The chances of him saying yes were already pretty farfetched, but if Steve’s parents were their worst selves…

Why would Eddie want to subject himself to that long term?

She paused, expression unreadable, something she’d mastered years ago for the court room, then she sighed. “I know, Steven.” She sighed heavily “Sometimes I forget that you’re a grown up now, that you can argue right back and actually stand your ground.” It only felt like yesterday when he was tugging uncomfortably at the little bowtie they used to make him wear for special occasions, all dressed up looking up at them with those big hazel eyes of his. His childhood only felt like yesterday. “I miss when you were cute and just did as you were told” she sniffled. Back when his parents had been there regularly before their duties had pulled them away. Before distance had strained them and they missed everything. Steve rolled his eyes but said nothing as his mother continued “Anyway, i agree. I think I’d prefer it if Eddie didn’t go away from this trip thinking John to be the most mature of us.”

“God, could you imagine?” Steve shook his head to free himself of the truly harrowing thought, allowing the subject to change. “I really like him, Mom... I didn’t expect to at first, not enough to want something long term with him anyway...” He’d thought it’d be easy to just pretend with him at first, but Eddie just had this... thing about him, Steve didn’t really know how to explain it, he just felt like home. Maybe it should have been alarming as to how fast that’d happened but... Steve had always rushed into things, funnily enough he didn’t think Eddie minded. “So I’d really like it if he liked all of us by the end of this, an if he only likes Dad cause of our bullshit, I think I might just disown the both of you.” The last part said in jest but... god he’d never let it go.

He’d lockjaw it until the end of time, would take it out on special occasions and shake it in their faces like look what you did. Look at what you cost me.

“Honestly, sweetheart I think I’d disown myself.” Lynda laughed, the air finally lightening up a little between them. “Here, how about we go see if the maintenance men pilfered the wine cellar? I’m positive Mags was hiding a damn good red down there among the cabernet that I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t want to go to waste...”

“Well... we probably should check it... just in case, y’know? For security reasons.” Not that he actually doubted the integrity of the maintenance crew, they’d been employees for years, they’d known his grandparents, had worked for them in their later years when time had started to catch up to them, and a steady gig passing through generations wasn’t something to scoff at.

“Security, absolutely.” But then, the contents of the wine cellar alone was probably worth more than the actual house, so… better double check.

For security reasons.

Part 22

#PirateWrites #FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #Fake Dating AU #Just what are Eddie and John going to come home to i wonder lmao

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breekento · 3 months

Note

hello! I love your fics on Higuruma on AO3! wanted to ask if you take any requests for Prisoner!Higuruma who survives culling games and turns himself in jail, but reader regularly visits him and waits for his release ?🥹 A bit of angst but fluff at the end please 💞

thank you for being my first fic request! I probably won’t write these as long as my fics on AO3 because it would take me months lol! But these are fun writing practices for me!

(wc: 1.6k, no smut, just pain and fluff)

“How are you sleeping, doll? Are you getting everything you need?” His voice crackles through the phone.

Your fingers tremble, squeezing the phone so tightly you were surprised it didn’t crumble in your grasp. “I guess so,” you reply in a small voice.

“I don’t like the sound of that, baby.”

You knew better than to lie, he was intelligent and ever observant of every hitch or quirk in your voice. “I just miss you, Hiro,” you say shakily.

He sighs deeply on the other line. “I miss you, too, doll. More than you can ever know. You’re still coming to see me tomorrow, right? I need to see that beautiful face.”

“Of, course.” How could you forget? It has become your weekly routine. Every week, the night before your visits with Hiromi, tossing hangers draped in clothes over your head in search of the perfect outfit. Open toed, too short, mesh, crop top. At some point you would need to go shopping for appropriate clothes to visit your boyfriend in prison but for whatever reason, it felt as if you were accepting defeat.

You knew very little of Hiromi’s mysterious work-life and he liked to keep it that way. The world of sorcery was foreign to you and your knowledge was shallow. Hence, the ringing in your ears, the numb feeling on your fingertips as your brain struggled to connect the dots on that day.

“I just don’t understand why you’re doing this to me, Hiro,” your voice was raspy, tears flowing down your face as you followed him out of the door.

“I can’t tell you,” he says, cold and distant as if he were desperately trying to disconnect from the harsh world around him.

“Look,” his voice is softer. His hands cup your face, lip distorted and eyebrows twisted upward in agony. “I’ve done bad, bad things. I can’t live with myself like this. You don’t want me here.”

“B-but how do you know? You don’t know,” you fumble over your words.

“I’ll be gone for a while, doll,” his forehead pressed against yours. At that moment, it felt doable. How long? Why? What have you done? You never asked, worried that you wouldn’t accept the answer.

Years had passed and it was doable. Not short of late nights, curled under the covers, fingers searching for the smell of his cologne and hair gel. Elbow stretched as far as you could reach, hand fumbling for the zipper on the back of your dress. Shit, if Hiromi was just here. Small tasks felt big.

Sitting behind your desk, mindlessly searching through your emails as a thinly faced coworker pops her head over the cubicle. “Are you going to the office pot-luck tonight?” She beams.

“Oh,” you jump in your seat. “I have plans.”

She frowns, resting her head on the half-wall. “You never do anything.”

You shrug, looking toward your computer screen. Explaining that you’re visiting your prison boyfriend was not something you cared to delve into with a superficial level of coworker.

The clock strikes 5:00pm and you are your own version of Cinderella, tossing your purse over your shoulder and striding towards the door. Only in this story, you weren’t running away from the probability of your carriage turning into a pumpkin. You were running toward your murderer of a boyfriend, clinging to that 30 minutes of quality time.

It couldn’t have been Hiromi. Not your Hiromi. The Hiromi who stayed awake late at night, holding your body close as it ached on your monthly. The Hiromi with tender fingers that grazed your skin covered in bubbles as you leaned against his skin as warm water poured over the two of you. The Hiromi who replaced the fresh flowers on your dining table every week, knowing you loved the scent. He couldn’t have been a killer. Surely it was for a reason. Was there such a reason?

“I’m here for Hiromi Higuruma,” you say through the window.

The guard’s eyes flicker to yours. Nodding before lifting the phone to her ear. Taking your cue, you sit in the waiting chair. Your legs bounce in anxiety, it never got easier.

The door swings open, a large guard standing in the doorway. Gathering your things, you walk toward the room. The room you knew too well. The tension in the air dissipates as the tall, dark-haired man stands before you. Even in this state, he was strikingly handsome. His hair, slicked back with strands falling forward onto his brow. His lips curl into a smile, eyes twinkling at the sight of you. His orange jump-suit hangs off of his body, wrists clasped together by handcuffs.

“There she is. My beautiful girl,” he purrs as you join him at the large table. It was just the two of you, and the guards that lined the perimeter. How romantic.

In his usual gentleman fashion, he waits for you to find your seat before sitting down himself. You adjust in your seat, face heating up as you scan his face.

“I missed you,” you say bashfully under his intense gaze.

“God. You get more beautiful every time I see you.”

You lean against the table, propping your head on your hands, “When are you ever going to get out of this place?”

“Funny you should say that,” he says with a grin. Your eyes widen, lifting yourself off of the table. “I have a date.”

Your mouth dries. “A-a date?”

“Doll, I’ve been here for 6 years. In a few months, they’re letting me out early for good behavior. Well, parole,” he says with a grin.

You stand from your seat, jaw slack and eyes rapid fire scanning his expression for any sign of a joke. “Y-you’re coming home?”

His eyes soften, looking up at you with those gorgeous sleepy eyes. “I’m going home, baby.”

Every muscle in your body wanted to lunge forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and tackling him to the ground. You haven’t even touched the man in years. You opt for covering your mouth with your hand.

“Keep holding on for just a few more months, doll. I’ll be home before you know it,” his eyes are kind.

“15 minutes,” the voice from the guard echoes throughout the empty room.

“My life here is boring. Tell me about yours. How’s work? How’s the house?”

He had truly set you up for success. You stayed in his home, completely paid for and taken care of by him. You didn’t have to work but you feared insanity spending your days alone in his large house. Brushing your teeth and watching his, dry and unused black toothbrush beside yours. His loafers that sit in the doorway, unworn and clean.

“Work is boring. They had a potluck tonight. My boss somehow thinks I’m the biggest idiot in the world while also piling more on my workload,” you say. It felt silly to complain about your mundane work tasks while he lived here. But he hung on your every word, soaking in the way your lips curled and eyes creased.

“Oh and I spent hours getting rid of weeds last weekend. The second you’re out of this place, that’s your job,” you say with narrow eyes.

He chuckles, leaning forward in his seat, “It will be my pleasure, baby.”

“It’s time,” the guard says. Each week, shattering your heart little by little. You stand, unable to stop the tears welling in your eyes.

“Don’t cry, darling. Not much longer. Just stay strong for a little longer,” his voice pleads.

You nod, using balled up fists to wipe your face. You watch him stand, towering over you as the guards guide him back to the mysterious place he now lived. He turns his face to catch your eyes, face sad as he watches the human form of his heart shatter before his eyes.

The door shuts and once again you are left alone. Only a few more months. Those words propelled you, every action you performed had a meaning suddenly. When you couldn’t reach something on the top shelf, when you couldn’t lift the garbage bag over your head, when you ran out of toilet paper you thought soon he will be here.

And soon came quick enough. You stood in front of your full length mirror, adjusting your sundress that fell over your curves. Your hair was fluffy and soft, draped over your shoulders. He knew what you looked like but you needed his first sight of you to be special, breathtaking.

With shaky hands and clammy feet, you stand outside the prison. If you weren’t leaning your body weight against the car door, you probably would have fallen over. You tap your foot anxiously, any minute now.

The door creaks open, a tall, lanky man dressed in black jeans and soft white shirt, the outfit he had left on that day. Before you could tell your feet to quit, you were running, no, sprinting towards the man.

He matches your speed, arms wrapping around your body as he lifts you from the ground. You bury your face in his neck, giggling through tears that coat his white t-shirt. His muffled laughs find your ears as he spins you, holding your body tightly. It had been years since you felt his hands on your back, his breath in your ear.

“I love you, I love you,” he chants against your face. He set you down, pressing both of his hands on each side of your face. “Let me get a good up-close look at my beautiful girl.”

Your cheeks blushed red under his gaze, “Let’s go home.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #fanfic #jjk fanfic #higuruma hiromi #jjk x you #higuruma x reader #higuruma hiromi x reader #hiromi x reader #hiromi jjk

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sunsetkerr · 6 months

Note

sam gets really hurt during a game of the matildas against england and millie and caitlin find u in the crowd and pull u onto the pitch because sam cant get up and u comfort her

im thinking ACL like maren in that chelsea bristol game like that serious

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1nLTTFwIljY

I've got you | sam kerr

you hear her scream before you realise what's happened. suddenly you were up on your feet with the rest of the stadium, watching on as sam screamed on the floor in pain. you had never heard her sound like that before, you had never heard anyone sound like they were in so much pain.

your heart was beating so fast in your chest, you weren't sure that it was going to hold up for much longer. you clutched your t-shirt in your fists as you kept your gaze on sam. guro, millie and fran were surrounding her, Lauren making her way over too. you could hear a pin-drop at stamford bridge, everyone watching on as their star striker laid on the pitch in pain.

you weren't sure if she had stopped screaming, or if it was just replaying in your mind as you helplessly watched your love on the ground. the medical team were now on the pitch, moving the girls away from sam.

she still had her head on the ground, her fist punching the turf as she worked through the white hot pain coursing through her leg. she hadn't felt pain this bad since she did her knee in 2014, she knew it was going to be a shit outcome.

you felt the tears begin to well in your eyes as you watched her, knowing there was nothing you could do to help her.

they eventually got sam onto the stretcher, and took her off of the pitch. the crowd clapped her exit, you just watched as she made her way down the tunnel, tears staining her skin as she held her arm over her head.

you heard someone call out to you. when you looked down, you saw millie and emma gesturing you over to the railing. "c'mere" millie said as she reached out for you. you turned around and leant over, allowing millie to pull you down onto the pitch; having done it so many times with sam you were practically an expert.

you thanked her and emma before rushing down the tunnel, going to find your girl.

a trainer recognises you and points you in the direction of the medical room. you wait outside, not wanting to interrupt their work. eventually, someone comes out of the room with a phone in their hand.

"y/n" it's James, a physio who works with sam regularly, and you've never been more thankful to see a friendly face.

"what's happened?" you're scared to hear the answer, but when he utters the letters ACL you feel like crying again. "I need to see her," you whisper.

"yeah," he nods, "I'm gonna get an ambulance down for her, get her in asap".

"thanks," you nod before heading into the medical room. "hey superstar," you smile. sam's heart can suddenly beat again after hearing your voice, but as soon as she meets your eyes, she breaks down into tears again.

"oh sammy" you come stand in front of the bed and hold her close to your chest, letting a few tears roll down your face. "I've gotcha" you smile, trying to hold yourself together for her.

"I've fucked it," she whispered. "I really fucked it" she sobbed.

"it's gonna be okay," you squeeze her just that little bit tighter, before planting a kiss on her head. you lean your cheek against her as you whisper to her again, "I've got you".

and no matter how shit it was, she knew that you did.

#blurb night one • . * .#sam kerr x reader #sam kerr imagine #sam kerr one shot #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso x reader #blurb . * • .

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cinnamonest · 2 months

Note

Alright, we need to know. Who are top members of the "looking at women, who're minding their own business, and talking about how sad and concerned you are for them because 'with the way they are, they'll end up single and childless for the rest of their lives and no high value man would give them a chance," club? Like on a sclae of 1-10 how delusional would they become after they realize said woman doesn't give a shit?

Honestly one of my favorite tropes is the whole, “nooo what are you doing living your own life you're supposed to be someone's wife and having babies” thing. Like it has both benevolent aspects (the whole “you'll be happier this way” part) while also having malevolent aspects (the “you're a resource to be used and the resource is being wasted” part).

Like, even irl, there are some men who are like. Discombobulated. Baffled. At the suggestion that a woman can have other priorities in life. The sheer reeling disbelief when he sees a woman that's like 30+ with NO kids, NO husband. Unbelievable. It must be so awful for you, you must be so sad and desperate. Equally worrisome is that you might end up accepting some inferior, unsuitable guy that doesn't have the same Husbandly Quality™ of someone like himself, tragic…

But yes I’ve been thinking about this concept ever since the Diluc escape fic, and I know I’ve talked about him with that concept before, but consider CHILDE would be such a major candidate.

Childe is hopelessly drawn to you if you’re mean.

It’s honestly not healthy for his sake either, but it’s far worse to be on the receiving end. He can’t help it, it’s like waving meat in front of a hungry dog, an irresistible urge to have you.

You’re not exactly high rank, but not much of a subordinate, you’re more of an “other” category, you keep records and files and do a lot of scribe work for a division of units you’re assigned to. Unfortunately for you, higher-ups such as harbingers end up consulting you quite often for records and information… well, most of the time, they send someone else to do such a menial task for them, but he always comes in-person, waltzing in all cheerful and full of youthful energy — and loud, God. You wonder if parents these days have stopped teaching their kids about having an inside voice, because this kid certainly is unfamiliar with the concept.

You scowl, evident disgust on your face as you lazily sort through your records, not about to show any urgency for someone so annoying. You were kind of hoping to irritate him, even. But alas, he’s equally smiley and talkative when you hand him what he’s looking for.

Far too talkative. You’ve already handed him what he needs. Why is he still in here? Now he’s talking to you, asking you the dumbest questions about if you like working here and what you do and blah, blah. You didn’t ask for this. You force yourself to give answers, albeit blunt and short as possible, mostly consisting of yeah-s and sure-s, before the annoyance becomes too much and you ask through clenched teeth if he needs anything else or if he’s done here, an all-too-obvious hint to leave.

Thus marks the beginning of the bane of your existence, because unfortunately, by the will of some malicious higher power, he comes back. Regularly. Habitually. Eventually you start noticing that he isn’t even retrieving anything, half of the time, he’s coming in just to annoy you.

See, for him, it’s not just attraction, but a weird sort of pride thing. That initial coldness draws him in, because it presents a sort of challenge. He’s now overheard other people say the same thing, that you’re cold and mean to everyone.

Based on looks alone, he thinks, you’re old enough that you should be married. Maybe that’s why you’re so mean, you’re just bitter or something. Maybe you had bad luck and got hurt a bunch and now you’re all guarded. That’s actually kind of cute.

Naturally… well, naturally for him and whatever’s wrong with him, at least, it sparks an obsession. He likes chases, challenges. Things that are hard to get are that much more satisfying to obtain, you know? The feeling of having won, the feeling of being better than everyone else, knowing that he accomplished something other people can’t and now reaps the rewards, and the pride and ego boost that comes with it — that sort of thing is an intoxicating fuel, a motivator unlike anything else one could offer him. This does not combine well with the fact that he’s young and hot-blooded and in possession of a hair-triggered sexual aggression, not to mention a sense of pride for which the word ‘no’ doesn’t have any meaning.

It’s kind of sad though. Wasting your life away in some menial job, you’ll be so lonely and regretful.

You’re very lucky, then, that he takes pity on your plight. It will all work out.

Because he can fix you.

And he knows that that's just how you are — he's already composed multiple potential sad backstories that explain your behavior in a way that makes you seem cutely pitiable, that writes off your attitude as being ultimately due to being sensitive and afraid of vulnerability, very endearing — he's not deterred by you pushing him away.

In fact, he realizes, once you've opened up to him and he's forced you to expose the vulnerable side of yourself, you'll probably feel bad for all the times you were mean to him. You'll shuffle even closer (in the scene that plays out in his mind, see, you'll be in bed, naked, face buried against his chest, all clingy and needy) and quietly sheepishly mutter out apologies and ask him to forgive you.

Or maybe after a while, if he keeps being nice to you, you'll break down and cry and be more honest about how sad and lonely you are and how much you need him and then he'll be right there to hold you close and promise to be there for you, it'll be really sweet and will make him very happy. He's already planned out several lines to say that should elicit enjoyable reactions.

It will be so cute. It will feel so good. It’s just a matter of winning you over at this point.

Which, you see, proves to be the difficult part.

He’s getting there, he’s certain, you’re just a little more stubborn than he anticipated.

He’s already started trying to work his way there, during his regular visits. He’s already asked you if you’re married, watched the way your face turned all sour the moment the word came out and the way you rolled your eyes before you muttered a no. Ah. Sore spot, then, as expected.

And then asks if you have kids — because the first answer doesn't necessarily negate that possibility, and ‘jaded single mom with a bad ex' is one of the potential backstories he's theorized for you, so, it's worth asking. You still say no.

The ideal response, then, is—

That's too bad. You would make a good mother!

You narrow your eyes and glare like he's just said the most vile thing you've ever heard. But it's okay, it's cute that you’re so defensive (because you know he’s right and it’s what you really want).

It doesn't matter what you say, any words that come out of your mouth will be filtered through his delusions to match the reality he's already decided is the case.

You say you don't want to get married, this means you actually really do, you say you don't need a man, which means you actually really do and are aware of it and it bothers you, you say you're fine by yourself, which means you're very lonely, it's practically a cry for help.

He'll keep being nice, no matter how much you push back. He can tell it's just because you're sensitive. Maybe you think someone as young and charming as him wouldn't sincerely like you, and you're being defensive? That's probably it. Aw. That makes him feel good.

Poor thing. You're so defensive, so guarded. It's endearing, even if it's starting to get a little frustrating. But it will just take a little more work before he gets through to you, and then everything will work out perfectly… and then he’ll have a nice trophy for all his efforts, can savor the defeat and vulnerability you’ll show. You'll become so meek and submissive and it'll be just for him and no one else. It’ll be so nice. Just a little more time.

#i cant help but believe this man has the worst 'i can fix her' complex of any guy to ever live #.ch #.miso

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greynatomy · 1 year

Text

Out of Love

Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

another angsty fic. idk why but i’m always emotional on my bday and it’s my bday so you guys should be emotional with me.

idk where this came from but happy reading and lmk what y’all think

-grey

———

Lizzie and Yn have been together for three years. Best three and a half years of Yn’s life. She’s with the girl of her dreams, what more could she ask for?

For the past six months, she’s been planning something for Lizzie. Talking to many jewelers to get opinions on what ring designs. Even talked about it to your closest friend, basically a sister to you, Scarlett Johansson. In those six months, Lizzie noticed how secretive her girlfriend has been. She didn’t think anything of it at first, but every time she asks, she gets no explanation.

One day, walking to her usual coffee shop. Grabbing her coffee, she turns around, only to be hit by a force, spilling her hot coffee on them.

“Oh, shit! I’m so sorry.”

“You’re fine. I wasn’t paying atten— Lizzie?”

Elizabeth looks up.

“Robbie! Hey. How are you?”

“Soaked as of this moment.”

“I am so sorry about that.”

“It’s totally fine. It’s my fault anyway. How ‘bout I buy you another cup while we catch up?”

“I would love that.”

After that moment, they started to hang out more often. They didn’t end their relationship on bad terms years ago, so she thought, why not befriend him?

She would go over to his place, have movie nights, cook dinner and he would come over to her place whenever you were out doing whatever that Lizzie stopped questioning.

It was surprising that the paparazzi hadn’t caught them hanging out together out of the comfort and privacy of their homes.

You were out running some errands one afternoon, when you decided to get something to eat. Walking to yours and Lizzie’s favorite coffee shop, you see her sitting at a table through the window. You pull out your phone and decide to give her a call.

Lizzie hears her phone ring, seeing your name on the screen, she silences it and out it away just in time for Robbie to come back from the restroom, not knowing you were outside watching the scene play out.

“Who was that?” He asked her.

“No one important.” She replied.

You don’t think much of it, just thought that she was catching up with someone, not being able to clearly see who she was with, you went home instead.

Some time has passed. You have three weeks until your four year anniversary, meaning three weeks until you propose. You’ve picked up the ring from the jewelers and it looked even better as you hold the finished product in your hand. You’re excited and can’t wait to spend the rest of you life with Lizzie.

Going home earlier than you told Lizzie, you picked up both of your favorite takeout to surprise her with. Not seeing her as you walk in, you set up all the food at the bar, going up the stairs to cal her down. Nearing your shared bedroom, you hear an unfamiliar voice.

“Give me another chance, please.” It was a man’s voice.

“Robbie.” Isn’t that Lizzie’s ex? You ask yourself.

“I like you, hell I still love you and these past couple of months prove that you have feelings for me too. Meet me at our favorite restaurant tomorrow at six pm if you feel the same way I feel towards you.”

There’s a small pause.

“Okay.”

You couldn’t listen to anymore of the conversation. You quietly hurry down the stairs write a note and grab your keys and wallet and drive off, not having a destination in mind, just wanting to be as far away as possible.

Lizzie walks downstairs shortly after, hearing a car outside thinking it might be you. Once she gets down, she sees the table set up with food. Getting closer to the table, she sees a note.

Will be gone for a while. Don’t know how long. Don’t call.

-Yn

She throws the note away and reheat the food to eat for dinner.

Three Weeks Later

In those three weeks, Lizzie did meet up with Robbie at their favorite restaurant. They’ve been seeing each other regularly without Yn being in the way, even forgetting about her existence.

They decided to go for a long scenic drive, turning the radio on high at a popular station.

“We have some new stuff that we’re gonna be playing in a bit. One song is from an artist that has not released a song in a long time. So, without further ado this is Out of Love by Yn Yln.” Lizzie’s breath hitches and her body tenses. She hasn’t heard about her for a while.

I won't tell you I'm lonely

'Cause it may be selfish

I won't ask you to hold me

'Cause that won't mend what's helpless

There's not a thing I could say

Not a song I could sing

For your mind to change

Nothing can fill up the space

Won't ask you to stay

But let me ask you one thing

Oh, when did you fall out of love, out of love?

Oh, when did you fall out of love with me?

Did you find out about her and Robbie? How did you find out? When did you find out? When did she fall out of love with you? Did she actually fall out of love with you or just filling a missing void while you were gone?

I can't float in an ocean

That's already been drained

I won't cry at your feet now

I know my tears will fall in vain

There's not a thing I could say

Not a song I could sing

For your mind to change

Nothing can fill up the space

Won't ask you to stay

But let me ask you one thing

Robbie hasn’t said a word. He knew what they were doing was wrong, but he was too caught up in finally having the girl back that he didn’t care for the consequences.

Oh, when did you fall out of love, out of love?

Oh, when did you fall out of love with me?

No use wondering

Why your change in heart has wandered

So I'll ask you this question

'Cause it might help me sleep longer

Oh, when did you fall out of love, out of love?

Oh, when did you run out of love for me?

Out of love (out of love)

Out of love with me

Lizzie was now full on sobbing. It made her remember all of the times she was with you, all the times she listened to your music and made being away from you hurt a little less. How did cheating on you suddenly become something she resorted to?

“That was Out of Love by Yn Yln. Wait, what?” The radio host mutes himself for a bit. “We’ve just received some very horrible news. Music sensation Yn Yln just passed away a couple hours ago.” Elizabeth’s world just came crashing down. She just froze, not knowing how to react to this news. “Her representatives have spoken and released a statement. Stress Cardiomyopathy or Broken Heart Syndrome, is what they said. Wow, she was so young too. That’s just crazy. Rest in peace to such a young and talented musician. She’s touched our hearts with her music. Thank you for blessing us with one last song.”

One. Last. Song.

Those words struck something in her. The song that just played was the very last one you released before you died. And it was you questioning her love for you, or lack there of. She felt guilty. You died from a broken heart. A heart that Elizabeth broke.

She never got a call about you when you passed. It seemed as though you removed her as your emergency contact. She stopped spending time with Robbie. He tried comforting her, but she didn’t want to be anywhere near her living and breathing guilt. She told him to stop contacting him and to lose all contact with her.

Leading up to the day of your funeral, dressed in all black and made her way to where you friends and family were gathered. Scarlett, seeing her come closer, stepped away from her husband.

“You have some nerve showing your fucking face here!”

Lizzie froze in her spot. All the attention was on her now.

“You don’t deserve to be here. I don’t give a fuck if you’ve been together for years because YOU are the REASON she’s GONE! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HERE! FUCK YOU!” Scarlett was getting pulled away by Colin. “LET GO OF ME!”

Lizzie breaks down, crying of guilt. Scarlett breaks down, crying of anger.

Lizzie eventually decides to leave, not wanting to upset Scarlett more. She knew how close the two of you were, how you passing is harder for her.

“Wait!” She turns back around seeing Scarlett walk to her with a box. “These are go you. You don’t deserve any of it, but she wanted me to give this to you. I don’t know if she knew of her dying, but she knew she wasn’t gonna see you anymore.”

With that, she drives back to you shared home with all the horrible memories with Robbie and the fainted ones with you.

Opening the box she notices three things. A letter, a flash drive and a small velvet box. Opening the velvet box, she sees a beautiful emerald ring. Knowing instantly the meaning of this ring, tears flood out of her eyes. Unfolding the paper it reads…

Lizzie,

If you’re reading this, then Scarlett thought that it was a good time to give it to you. I don’t even know where to start.

Well, I found out. I came home early to surprise you with our favorite takeout and went upstairs to call you down for dinner and overheard your conversation with Robbie. I wanted to know if you went through with his deal and you did so I am writing this as a goodbye to our relationship or not a relationship anymore I guess and to you.

In the flash drive, there’s a song I wrote—

Putting the letter down, Lizzie quickly grabs her laptop and plugs in the dive. She sees one file. She clicks on it and a song plays.

(it’s Emerald Eyes by Anson Seabra you don’t have to play it, just the song I had in mind)

—and it was supposed to be played right before I got on one knee and asked you to spend the rest of our lives together.

(You know how much I love your eyes, so I decided to write a whole song about how they make me feel.)

But, that won’t be happening anymore. After four years of us being together, you still weren’t over Robbie. I just wish that you broke it off with me before getting back together with him. Make it hurt a little bit less.

The ring is something I’ve been working on or working with people on. Took six months. It’s why I was always gone and secretive, which ultimately made you go to another so this whole thing is actually my fault. I drove you away and I’m sorry for me, but glad that you found your way back to the person you love even if that’s not me.

Im just rambling on paper now. I won’t be coming back for any of my clothes or anything. Only took the essentials so you can throw everything out. This is goodbye, I guess. I love you. I always will even if you don’t love me back.

Forever yours,

How can you blame yourself for her infidelity, she asks herself. You loved her so much that you couldn’t even point the blame at her.

She wishes there was a way to apologize to you. To tell her everything she did was a mistake. Most importantly, she never fell out of love with you. You understood and loved her like no other. She’ll never find anyone to love her like how you loved her, not even Robbie could love her like you did.

She was too late. She can never gain back the time to be with you again, not even for a minute. You were gone, believing she fell out of love.

Lizzie took the ring out of the box and slid it on her finger.

“I do.”

But it’s too late.

#elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen imagines #elizabeth olsen imagine #elizabeth olsen #scarlett johansson imagine #wanda maximoff imagines #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen oneshot #scarlet witch

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hbyrde36 · 8 months

Text

STWG Drabble 9/30/23

Prompt: Drunk talk

It was 2am, and Steve was sitting on the kitchen floor huddled around the phone, gripping the handset like it was a lifeline. It only rang twice before Robin picked up. She'd begged her parents to install an extra phone line in her room after Starcourt, and they gave in quickly once they realized it was either that, or getting woken up regularly by middle of the night panicked phone calls from the boy their daughter swore she wasn’t dating. Her parents didn’t know what had really happened to the two kids, just that whatever it was had left them with a lot of trauma and a little bit of codependency, but they loved their daughter, so they did what they could to make her happy.

“Steve?” Robin yawned his name into the phone, a hint of concern coloring her voice even though she was only half awake.

“Robbi-” Steve choked out through a sob that was punctuated with a hiccup. “I thhhink I fuccked up.”

“Are you drunk?” She asked, sounding a little more awake.

Steve snapped his fingers, pointing as if she was in the room with him. “Guessed it’n one.” He slurred a little, sniffling as he tried to speak. It was a wonder she understood him at all.

“Jesus, how much did you have? Wait, weren’t you and Eddie supposed to be hanging out tonight?”

“Oh Eddie” Steve sighed dramatically. “Eddie, he wasss here, he..oh god.. Robin I fuuucked up so bad - e’s never going to tttalk to me again.”

“What happened?” She asked.

Steve cleared his throat and took a few deep breaths. Trying hard to sober himself up.

“We were drinking.” He managed the three words with much less slurring than before, he thought Robin should be impressed.

She wasn’t.

“Clearly”

“Don’ be mean, i’m upset!” Steve groaned.

“Sorry, go on.”

“And I knew I shouldn’t have let myself drink so much but I did and god, Robin, he looked so hot!” Steve rambled on. “He had his hair up and a crop top on and I couldn’t help myself…. I all but sat on his lap when we decided to watch a movie.”

“I’m failing to see the issue here. You were flirting with him, so what? You like him, he likes you.”

“We don’t know that!” Steve hissed.

“We do know that! And I've been telling you to ask him out for weeks!.”

Steve hesitated, a little of his old panic rising in his chest. “I…i wasn’t ready.”

Robin’s tone softend. “That’s okay, you’re allowed to not be ready.”

“I think I am now, but…” He trailed off.

“Okay, so what’s the problem?”

“Eddie kissed me.” Steve said simply, as if that explained everything. In fairness to his booze soaked mind, it did.

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate, babe.”

“I freaked out, Robin! I freaked out and he thought I was freaking out because I didn't want him to kiss me, but really I was freaking out because I like him so much, and the kiss! Oh, the kiss was amazing. I had no idea that kissing could feel like that, but then I panicked because - what if I mess it up, Robin? What if I mess up with Eddie like I did with Nancy? I don’t know if I could survive that again.”

Robin was quiet for a long moment before she said anything.

“Shit, Steve. Do you…feel the same way about him as you did about Nance?”

“I think I do, Robs, I think I'm in love with him, but it doesn’t matter because I already ruined it.”

“Is that true?”

Steve’s heart sank as a deep voice sounded behind him.

He heard Robin suck in a breath on the other end of the line. He looked up, already knowing what he would find. Sure enough, Eddie was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, jacket on and keys still in hand. How long had he been standing there? Did he come back, or had he never left?

“Is that..?” Robin started to ask, but Steve cut her off. “Yeah, it is, um. I gotta go, I'll call you tomorrow.” He hung up before she could respond, never taking his eyes off the boy in the doorway.

Steve gulped audibly. “How much of that did you hear?”

Eddie shuffled his feet, looking nervous. It wasn’t something Steve was used to seeing on the other boy, he usually exuded confidence.

“I guess that depends.” Eddie replied.

“On?”

“How much of it did you mean?”

“All of it.” Steve answered quickly, eager to fix the mess he’d made of things.

Eddie pressed his lips together in a thin line, thinking. “Are you sure it’s not just because you’re drunk and sad?” He said, finally.

“If you stay, I'll say it again in the morning.”

Eddie smiled and shook his head. He walked over and sat down on the floor next to Steve, taking his hand and entwining their fingers. “What a line, Stevie.”

Steve ducked his head. “I’m sorry I freaked out.”

Eddie raised their clasped hands to his mouth and pressed his lips to the back of Steve’s fingers.

“I’m sorry too. I left and didn’t give you the chance to explain. I got into my van and even started it, but I couldn't leave. I didn’t want to run anymore. I came back inside so we could talk about it. I hoped you would forgive me for kissing you and we could still be friends.”

“I don’t want to be just friends, Eddie. Can we try the kiss again?”

Eddie squeezed his hand and stood up, pulling Steve along with him.

“Let’s get you to bed, and if you feel the same way in the morning I would be happy to have a do-over.”

Steve pouted but allowed Eddie to lead him out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his bedroom.

“Don’t pout, baby. You’re really drunk, and it would feel too much like I was taking advantage of you. Let’s just go to sleep, I promise I'll still be here in the morning.”

Baby.

“Will you sleep in here with me if I swear to keep my hands to myself?” Steve asked.

Eddie usually slept on the couch or the guest room when he stayed over. Steve had always hated it, but he had never been brave enough to ask Eddie to stay with him until now.

Eddie chuckled. “Yea, Stevie. I’ll stay with you.”

#stwgdailyprompt #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things

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luvtonique · 8 months

Text

I realized something this morning.

This is probably gonna be a long post. (Edit, yep)

I'm a pretty fairly public figure on the internet, and I very regularly interact with a huge amount of people. From YouTube Comments to Discord to Tumblr Asks/Comments to Newgrounds Reviews to MMO Chat to Mic-Chat on Games to Twitch Chat to Stream Chat, blah blah blah.

I've, for years now, over a decade (hell over two decades) talked to probably thousands of people, and have been able to get a gauge on a pretty safe to say "average" of collective human intelligence on the internet.

I've come to realize that not everybody has that kind of experience talking to people online as I do. I've talked to literally thousands, probably near ten thousand, people online in my life.

This is a staggeringly high number and puts me in an outlier position among the rest of you, who likely have only interacted with a double digit number of people online in your life.

Now that you have that information in mind, here's what I realized this morning.

I realized that the reason I don't listen to people, ESPECIALLY when it comes to politics, is because I have learned through talking to all these people that fucking nobody knows what they're fucking goddamn talking about.

I study a lot of things in my spare time, and history is a huge one that I study. I very regularly read and listen to multiple sources talking about historic events, and I make sure to look at as many sources as possible, sometimes including reading encyclopedias in my own home that we've owned for like 40 years.

I cross-reference all of these things and paint a picture of the most likely truths through various means.

Why's that important? Because sometimes a 14 year old on Twitter, literally nearly less than a third my age, will occasionally come along telling me that I'm wrong. Not about history necessarily, but about some opinion that I have based on my own experience and my own knowledge that I've researched myself.

I usually ask them where they got their information, and I'm met with boldfaced idiocy. Completely braindead shit like "180,000 people said it on Twitter," or they link me a Tumblr post with 100k notes, or they say "It's common knowledge," (which is the biggest red flag of them all because not only does it prove they have no evidence to back up what they're saying, but as this post will go on to explain, "common knowledge" is quite literally the worst source of information on anything. People commonly think the earth is flat and that Scientology is real. People commonly think that walking under a ladder or breaking a mirror gives you bad luck. People commonly think that naturally blue food exists.)

In my life I have met thousands of people, and THOUSANDS of them are fucking idiots who very very smugly state completely incorrect knowledge. Earlier today someone tried to tell me that the creators of Beat Saber never sold the company to Facebook, and I showed them proof and they went silent for 3 hours and then went "Yeah so what, Facebook is still a good company" and I wanted to beat my head against the desk.

The internet is full of people who are fascinatingly ignorant. I'm not calling myself "better" or "smarter" than anyone here, I'm just saying that I have learned better than most people that people on the internet are not, and never fucking will be, a good source of information. I don't care if they're your best fucking friend, the coin-toss of them knowing what they're talking about or actually having the facts is so heavily weighted against them, it's seriously like a 98% chance they have no fucking clue what they're talking about.

I urge everyone to take a moment and realize that the internet is, in fact, a good place to find information and do research, but PEOPLE ON THE INTERNET, especially MEDIA AND SOCIAL MEDIA, are NOT SMART PEOPLE AND ARE NOT GOOD SOURCES FOR YOUR INFORMATION.

These are angry, smug, annoying little idiots who are likely 14 years old with a 1st grade reading comprehension who aspires to be a TikTok content creator as a career, and under no fucking circumstance should you ever, ever, EVER listen to any social, financial, religious, gendered, medical or political advice they give.

The world has gotten vastly out of control with how much people think "A lot of people agree with me" is a good enough reason to solidify your opinions. "A lot of people agree" is the biggest red flag ever, because people on the fucking internet are complete fucking idiots, I'm sorry, but I'm someone with far more experience talking to people on the internet than literally any of you reading this. I talk to people on the internet as a career and have been doing this for longer than most of you reading this have been alive.

So what's the point of this? What's the take-away?

The take-away is that I'm saddened by how many people will attack each other vehemently, cut off friends and family members, label people as toxic or problematic, jump to conclusions, etc. based on complete and utter misinformation spouted to them by people who have never once in their entire life actually looked up what the fuck they're talking about. They treat random strangers on Twitter as "experts" because that person is well articulated or put together a YouTube video with really good editing that's softly spoken by a British accent guy and has scary music whenever some "evil" person is on the screen.

The take-away is that people, like yourself (don't you dare try to deny it) will just believe whatever they read on social media, or whatever their Discord friend-group is talking about, because they are living in a complete falsehood that people on the internet know better than they do.

You are not incapable of doing your own research. You are not incapable of finding the truth. You are not stupid. Just do your own research, look into things yourself, cross-reference, use the scientific method, go to a library, read books, for fuck sake please adopt the basic social skill of "If someone says it on the internet it is most likely not true and I should look into it myself."

Because the current state of people is monstrous.

Y'all get so fucking mad about things that are just plain not true, and you revolve your entire life around things you were told by complete idiots and/or children on Twitter and other social media websites.

Stop.

Look at yourself, look at how angry you get about things, and consider that there may be a possibility that anger stems from a complete lack of any foundation or truth in your own beliefs.

Consider the almost 100% guaranteed possibility that you have been blatantly lied to by people who have no fucking idea what they're talking about, and that you are violently upholding standards that are incorrect because you have placed trust in the word of untrustworthy people.

Look up confirmation bias, read about it.

Look up manipulation tactics, read about it.

Look up "Plato's Republic" and read about it.

Absolutely, under no circumstances, should you ever, EVER, form your social or religious or political or financial or gendered or sexual etc. opinions based on SHIT YOU READ ON SOCIAL MEDIA.

And while we're here, don't listen to the news either. They're just a bunch of parrots saying what needs to be said to get you all fighting with each other so that the government can fuck things up while you're distracted. Do your own research, check multiple sources, don't consider social media or regular media to be a 'source,' get every bit of information from every angle, and for fuck sake, stop attacking people for disagreeing with you when you, yourself, only believe what you believe because your friend group believes it and you know that if you disagree with your friend group they'll all attack you so you'd rather be on their side, which only further proves my point that y'all need to fucking chill.

"Democracy will never work. If 3 medical experts tell you that you must eat a ginger root to cure your ailments, but 100,000 idiots with no medical experience tell you otherwise, you're more likely to believe the 100,000 idiots. They are louder, there are more of them, and you will gamble on the hope that among those 100,000 idiots, there must be more than 3 medical experts. The voice of the ignorant will always drown out the voice of the educated."

-Plato's Republic, 375BCE (Paraphrased)

"I can't believe Jay just called us all idiots and expects us to listen to him"

-Someone in the comments of this (It's gonna happen)

PS: If you looked up "Naturally Blue Food," and found out it does in fact not exist, good for you for doing your own research!

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

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aita for not telling someone i know he’s being bullied?

⚠️ mentions of cancer + a suicide attempt

everyone mentioned here is in their 20s, with the youngest being 21 and the oldest being 28. none of the names used here are anyone’s actual names.

this is kind of a long story with a lot of moving parts and i can’t get into ALL of it so im trying to section JUST this off. basically i’ve had a group of friends for awhile. we met in a larger server and its a pretty big circle, so there is interpersonal drama aplenty. i stepped away from the bigger server and mainly maintained contact with 5-7 friends id made through a personal server and dm conversations.

one of the people in that server, erin (she/they) dm’d me to tell me they had to leave said personal server because they’d had a bit of an incident with 3 of the other members. they ended up telling me that they and the other 3 members had a group chat where they’d regularly talk shit about another person we know, bryce (he/him). apparently they all took something he said months ago WILDLY out of context to claim he’s a transmisogynist and therefore its fine that they bully him (this guy isn’t someone i’ve talked to very much since leaving but i do know him and we are on good terms. he can be a bit difficult to maintain conversations with but he very much is not a transmisogynist. also none of the people in this gc are transfem). like, they conspire in this group chat ways to make him feel bad. erin showed me some screenshots. its pretty textbook highschool mean girls behavior.

erin was also in this group chat and finally got fed up with them all and told them they need to stop trying to justify their actions. its pretty obvious bryce is not the bigot they’re saying he is and they’re just using that as an excuse to be cruel. the people in the group chat did not take that well so erin left and has also left any mutual servers they’re in with them.

she only told me all this because i offered to let her vent, but now im in kind of a rough spot morally. i think the correct thing to do here would be to let bryce know, but im being. kind of a coward about it.

this all may sound like im just throwing myself a pity party, but i am in a very, very bad spot right now. like i said, there was a ton of interpersonal drama in this group and i’ve been in the center of it before. it took a massive toll on me. so im not keen to get involved in drama in general, but also, mainly. i lost my best friend (minze, she/her) to cancer at the start of this year. i’ve known her since childhood and i’ve barely been able to function without her. we lived together. i still take care of her cat. we had the same birthday, and its coming up in a little over a week. i’ve been absolutely gutted knowing this is the first birthday ill spend without her in over a decade. i tried to kill myself a couple of weeks ago because i couldn’t bear the thought of it. i failed, obviously. and im fine at the moment but im definitely not perfectly well and im barely hanging on by a thread

i left the larger group because i couldn’t stand to be involved with everything going on. if i tell bryce about this group chat, i will be getting involved again. i dont think they know i know about it at this point but the only people who could tell him would be me and erin. even if i did it anonymously or asked him not to tell it would be incredibly easy to trace back to me. while im appalled to know my friends have been so viciously cruel to someone for no reason, since losing minze these people have been my only support network. they all knew minze, too. they’re some of the only people i can share memories of her with. i dont think i could process this grief alone

i know i need better friends but i don’t have them right now. i’ve sort of already got a strained relationship with some of them and i worry this could be the last straw and id just… lose them abruptly. and i know if that happened id put myself at risk again, because id be just as heavily suicidal but now with no one to confide in about it

bryce deserves to know. its the right thing to do, but it would cause me a dangerous amount of mental strain. but even though i say i don’t want to get involved i do feel, on some level, like i probably got involved the second i let erin even tell me about this. so i feel like im being a whiny dickhead and just making excuses but im just. im not willing to put myself through this again. not right now. aita?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #suicide cw

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