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imagineanime2022 · 1 year

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Two Types Of Love

Ryomen Sukuna X Fem!Reader Yuji Itadori X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2020

Requested: Anon

Request: I just need aggressive affection from Sukuna and soft love from Yuuji that's probably all I need in life. A perfect balance of one won't let me go and the other knows when to let me go. And honestly I'm imagining Sukuna just slapping his hand over the mouth and being silenced with the weirdest ass kiss ever. Or being held in all four of his arms…I have issues. Can you do something with any of that? Or just Gojo or even Toji won't stop trying to flirt with the reader and Yuuji and Sukuna aren't allowing that?

Warning: kinda polyamory???

A/N: This ended up being way longer than I thought it was going to be but I hope that you enjoy it, I did have fun writing it and kind of gave in to myself.

Yuji had known you for a long while before everything happened with Sukuna’s finger. You had both lost contact after you told him that you were moving schools. As it turned out you were joining Jujutsu Tech. You missed Yuji a lot and sometimes went past your old school to make sure that he was okay, not that he ever saw you.

You became friends with Megumi and were often sent out on missions with him and it was no different that morning when Gojo caught the two of you “Ahh there you are, there's a mission I want you both to take on.” He said as his arm looped around both your shoulders, you shrugged his arm off of you. “You mean a mission that you don’t want to do?” You asked. “It’ll be a good experience, I just need you to pick up a cursed object.” Gojo answered, handing you the location. “If I die because of your laziness I swear I’m going to kill your ass.” You informed him as you snatched the paper from him. “Itadori?” “You know ‘em?” Megumi asked. “Do you?” Gojo asked as he leaned forward, you narrowed your eyes at him, you were pretty sure that he knew the answer to that already. “I knew someone who went by that name.” You answered. “Is that the friend you're always checking on?” Gojo asked. “Yeah.” You nodded. “They have a curse object?” “A strong one too, just get it back and everything’ll be fine.” Gojo shrugged.

You didn’t find the artifact where you were supposed to and before long you were standing in front of Yuji in the hospital “Yuji?” You asked softly. “(Y/N)!?” He asked as he turned to look at you. “What are you doing here?” You asked. “Um the old man, he died.” Yuji answered. “I’m so sorry.” You moved forward wrapping your arms around him. “We don’t have time for this.” Megumi stepped forward and you glanced back at him and glared. “His Grandfather has just died.” You argued. “And more people are going to die if we don’t find the cursed object.” Megumi argued. “Yuji, your family shrine there was something there, we need it, do you know where it went?” You asked. “Oh I gave that to some friends at school.” He answered, you looked at Megumi and groaned. “We need to get there now.” Megumi ordered. “Yeah I’ve got it.” You mumbled, turned to Yuji and promised to come see him some time.

This was the first time that Sukuna saw you, after Yuji ate the finger, you never actually saw him eat it but you felt the change in energy and headed up to the roof “Yuji?” You asked as you looked at the shirtless figure standing on the side of the roof, when he looked at you, you knew that you weren’t looking at the same person. “You talkin’ to me Princess?” He asked as he stepped towards you. “He ate the curse object!” Megumi yelled, you felt a tear fall down your cheeks as you used your curse ability to create a weapon. “Well, aren't you brave?” The body that used to be Yuji’s asked, you pulled the Katana into a defensive stance as you looked at the curse in front of you. “I could kill you.” “Is that supposed to scare me?” You asked, Yuji eyes looked you up and down before before the curse occupying his body smirked, you weren’t scared of dying at least not for the person who owned his body before him, his attention now completely on you as he stepped forward lifting his hand but before he got too close he jerked to a stop. “Hey, leave her alone!” That voice you recognised. “What the hell is going on!?” The other deeper voice asked. “Don’t touch her!” Yuji ordered and before you knew it your childhood friend was standing in front of you again. “Yuji?” You asked and he looked at you. “Yeah?” He asked tilting his head like a puppy, you dove forward hugging him (which you’d later be thinking about because he was in fact shirtless.) “Well your close aren’t you Princess, you two datin’ or somethin’?” That voice asked again. You jumped back at the sound of the voice before seeing the mouth on his cheek. “Does that hurt?” You asked him, not noticing your sensei appearing to talk to Megumi. “No.” Yuji answered as he slapped his hand over his cheek, the mouth just appeared on the back of his hand, you reached out and poked it. “Do that again and I’ll bite you.” He warned. The flash of a camera caught your attention as you looked over at Gojo. “I got an ear full because the special grade object wasn’t back yet, so where is it?” “I ate that thing.” Yuji said, putting his hand up. “You did?” He asked. “I did.” Yuji nodded at the same time that both you and Megumi made confirmations of your own. Gojo walked up to him and looked Yuji over far too closely in your opinion before laughing. “Wow it really did combine with you, that's hilarious.” He turned away from him handing the bag he was holding to Megumi before gesturing for you to come and stand with him before he started stretching. “Do you feel anything different about your body?” Gojo asked. “No, everything seems okay.” Yuji answered. “Can you swap with Sukuna at will?” Gojo asked. “Who’s Sukuna?” Yuji asked. “The curse who’s finger you ate.” Gojo answered. “Oh yeah I think I can do that.” Yuji put his hand on his hip. “Okay give us 10 seconds, then change right back.” Gojo requested. “But-” “No, don't worry I’m too strong for him.” Gojo smirked and you rolled your eyes. “Were you souvenir shopping while we were almost dying?” You asked “is that why you wanted us to do this mission?” “I don’t have to answer that.” Gojo muttered as Sukuna appeared behind him. The fight from there was rather one sided, Gojo obviously winning the whole time.

It was a couple of weeks later when Yuji had supposedly died that you realised your feelings for him. Many tried to get you out of your room but no one was able to convince you to come out of your room. “(Y/N)!” You could hear Gojo on the other side of the door but you didn’t even have the energy to tell him to go away. “I have someone who wants to see you.” “Go away.” You finally managed to say. “I thought you might say that.” You jumped up at the sound of Yuji’s voice, your eyes widened when you saw him standing there, he opened his arms for you but you moved cautiously touching cheek before diving in and pressing a kiss to his lips “you are not allowed to do that ever again!” “I’ll try not to.” He scratched the back of his head. “Did you at least get rid of your freeloader?” You asked. “Still here sweetheart.” Sukuna said the mouth appeared on his cheek. “Do I get a welcome back kiss?” “You're the reason he even needed one, you do get anything.” You glared assuming that he could see you in some capacity. “You're cute, when I finally get this body you're coming with me.” Sukuna smirked and you glared at him. “God I hate you.” You grumbled. “We’re kind of a package deal.” He said and you rolled your eyes. “Whatever.” You mumbled.

It was a couple of years later, you had both officially entered a relationship and even if Sukuna had never officially requested a place in it, he was kinda there for the ride. One night Yuji had managed to find sleep easy but for some reason you were having trouble, you found yourself sitting on the window seal of the room that you were sharing. “Whatcha doin’ over there kid?” Sukuna asked and when you looked over you saw that he had full control of Yuji’s body as he walked over until he was standing in front of you. You changing with him doesn’t wake him up does it?” You asked. “No, he's still fast asleep.” Sukuna assured you “you didn’t answer my question.” “I was just thinking.” You answered. “Does it hurt?” He asked, you narrowed your eyes at him before turning away “sorry… What are you thinking about?” “We’ve been looking for your fingers and we’re finding them but…” Your eyes moved to his, his gaze seemed to pin you to your seat. “So many people have died for us to get this far and you’ll both be gone by the end of this to… I guess I’m just trying to figure out what I’m going to do next.” “You think I’ll let some second rate sorcerers take me away from you?” He asked, he took your chin in between his thumb and forefinger “at my full power there is nothing that can stop me from getting back to you.” “What about Yuji?” You asked. “The brat will still be here too, if that’s what you really want.” He rolled his eyes, you weren’t sure what caused this change in Sukuna but you were sure if you asked he wouldn’t tell you. So instead of asking you leaned forward and nudged his nose with yours, he rolled his eyes before properly connecting your lips in your first real kiss. Sukuna let out a groan before a tired look took over his face. “No fair why are you guys awake without me.” Yuji complained and you giggled softly. “Don’t worry we were just coming back to bed.” You said as you stood and dragged him back to bed.

You’d never find out how much you really meant to them until one day they were supposed to meet you after a mission but it seemed that Gojo had found you first. Yuji respected his teaching and you but he couldn’t stop the feeling of jealousy rising in him as Gojo’s arm wrapped around your shoulders. “We should stop him.” Sukuna growled. “We should trust her to deal with it herself.” Yuji wasn’t sure he believed it but he had to give you the chance to get rid of the overly touchy teacher yourself. “I swear to god brat if you don’t go over there, I’ll make you.” Sukuna was speaking through gritted teeth but before either one of them could do anything you threw a punch at Gojo who easily dodged it before laughing saying something and then skipping away like a child, he had unfortunately always been that way with you and it wasn’t going to change any time soon.

You didn’t even know they were there but you felt Yuji’s arms wrap around you the second that he touched you the air changed and you could feel the change in the air, the power that Sukuna had gained since collecting more of his fingers has certainly been noticed by you, as you felt the second pair of arms wrap around you, you knew that if you looked down you wouldn’t be able to see them but you could definitely feel them. “You don't have to worry about him.” Your hand reached up behind his head to play with his hair. “He gets too close,” Sukuna mumbled, pressing his lips to your shoulder. “The brat wouldn’t let me come over here.” “You should listen to Yuji more often.” You informed him and he grumbled as you felt the presence of the second pair of arms dissipate, “Told ya.” Yuji muttered, “but for the record, I don’t like it either.” “You two don't realise how similar you are.” You mumbled to yourself before unwrapping his hands and pulling him along with you. “I’m hungry, let's get something to eat.” “Anything you want.” You almost think that they both said it at the same time but you’d only get an argument about who said it first so instead, you pulled them along until you found somewhere you were all happy to eat.

Request Here!!

#jujustu kaisen oneshot #jujustu kaisen imagine #jujustu kaisen #ryomen sukuna oneshot #ryomen sukuna imagine #ryomen sukuna #yuji itadori imagine #yuji itadori oneshot #yuji itadori #imagine #oneshot #one shot #reader insert #x reader #female reader

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dweetwise · 4 months

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[Ace X Jeff X Élodie X Felix X Zarina] Birthday blues

I may be writing for an audience of one (myself) but I just love all of these idiots and think they should kiss. Continuation of this fic set in the same AU, this time starring a very disgruntled Ace. Rated M | 3.8k words | ao3 link

"¡Che, boludo! Are you fucking stupid!?" Ace yelled. "It says forty kilometers, not 'slam the brakes and drive in first gear'! Christ, my abuela was a better driver than you and she was blind!"

Predictably, the Toyota in front just kept trucking along at a snail’s pace as the idiot behind its wheel remained oblivious to Ace’s tantrum.

Ace huffed and sagged back against the car seat, barely resisting the urge to blast the horn to make his displeasure known. Instead, he busied himself with adjusting the rear view mirror, because it was Jeff’s car and he and Ace were very much not the same size. Ace usually couldn't be assed since the only time he used the mirrors was to check himself out rather than look at traffic—probably one of the reasons people were reluctant to let him drive—but he felt a petty sense of glee when he noticed a line of cars forming because of the stupid Toyota.

Ace didn't normally get road rage; in fact, he was usually the one laughing at Felix’s German insults and Zarina’s swearing behind the wheel. But today was his birthday, and it was a special kind of torture to be stuck in rush hour behind some Sunday driver when he just wanted to get home.

Not that there was anything there waiting for him. Felix was at work and would run late because of some seminar, Élodie was sleeping off the jet lag after her trip to Indonesia, Zarina was nose-deep in editing her latest documentary and had barely left her room for days, and Jeff was finishing up his latest painting for some art collector.

All things which were evidently more important than Ace.

At least Jeff was going to cook for him—which wasn't really saying much, since it was his turn to make dinner regardless, but Ace felt better if he didn’t think about that. Of course, grocery shopping had also been on Jeff’s to-do list, but he'd emerged from his studio looking so frazzled and asked Ace with his puppy eyes if Ace could possibly make the trip for him.

And because Ace loved Jeff, and had pretty much been lounging on the couch in his PJs doing absolutely nothing anyway—definitely not moping after he'd gotten up early to see Felix off for work and Felix not only didn't bring up his birthday, but asked Ace to make him coffee and then fucked off without even a goodbye kiss—he'd agreed.

Part of Ace had still been hoping the grocery run would reveal some sneaky plans Jeff had for his birthday. He'd patiently waited for Jeff to write a shopping list and then immediately read it as soon as he got into the car. But there was nothing: no birthday candles, no ingredients for any of Ace's favorite foods, no wine, no flavored lube…

Clearly, nothing indicating Ace's birthday at all.

Ace might have conducted himself a little aggressively once he arrived at the supermarket, flinging things into his shopping cart and purposefully ramming it into the cart of a blond guy in a suit. He also decided to get a bunch of extra items outside of the list and use their joint account to pay for all of it, because it was his birthday, dammit, and seeing as none of his partners bothered getting him any gifts he'd get them himself.

Except a grocery store at rush hour wasn't exactly the best setting for meaningful birthday gifts. Still, Ace vindictively piled on a couple gift cards, the most expensive bottle of wine he could find, one single cupcake and birthday candles, and a can of condensed milk he fully planned to eat straight out of the tin because fucking stupid Germany didn't have dulce de leche.

Ace was already feeling a little better as he made his way to the checkout: nothing like some good ol' retail therapy to fill the void of being ignored by the people he loved.

And then, of course, the card of their joint account declined. Because Zarina was responsible for it, and she'd barely remembered what day it was when Ace last saw her in the middle of her editing frenzy.

So Ace had to pay for the groceries with his own card and leave out all the extras, because he absolutely refused to pay for his own gifts out of principle. And definitely not because he couldn't afford them.

That turned out to be a blessing in disguise because Ace was barely able to carry the bags to the car as it was. And leaving the nice wine bottle at the store was somewhat preferable to trying to juggle it with the bags and having it smash into pieces on the parking lot pavement.

After all of that, a little road rage felt pretty deserved.

Ace's hands were still shaking on the steering wheel. He couldn't remember when he'd last been this angry; it wasn't like he'd expected much for his birthday, because he knew how busy everyone would be. But just some acknowledgement—or maybe a guarantee that they'd celebrate together at a later date when everyone had more time—would have gone a long way.

Ace didn't need brunch and champagne in bed like they'd done for Felix's birthday, or the seven-course dinner at that fancy restaurant they went to for Élodie's. Sure, Ace had planned those months in advance, but he knew the others weren’t as sentimental—even if he already knew what he was getting Zarina and Jeff even though it was half a year until their birthdays.

But that was what you did, wasn’t it? Admittedly Ace had always been a little materialistic, but if you liked someone, you gave them something nice, even if it was just a bouquet of wildflowers you'd picked off the side of the road or a half-burnt omelet that didn’t quite turn out like the recipe promised. Ace would have been happy with birthday kisses and a cheap gift and ordering takeout from the shitty kebab place with free delivery, and that really wasn't unreasonable to ask of his partners; no matter how busy they were.

Maybe they just didn't like him enough to bother.

Ace let out a half-hysteric, half-pathetic laugh. If he somehow ended up getting dumped by four people on his birthday, he really didn't know what he'd do.

…Except piss in Felix's koi pond in revenge, but after that.

So he just wouldn't think about it. And besides, everyone acted like this was just a normal day, and not a let's-finally-kick-Ace-to-the-curb day. Ace just had to act like it too, because it wasn't like he could bring up the birthday thing now. If they genuinely forgot, it would make them feel bad and nobody would have time to throw anything together on such short notice anyway, and then everyone would be miserable. And if they actually were ignoring it on purpose, well, then Ace would feel even more awful than he did now.

Ace would just go home and unload the groceries, and then call his sister, because she'd sent him a happy birthday text earlier, because someone actually cared. By that time, Jeff would probably have finished dinner but he'd eat in his studio like he always did when he was busy, so Ace would eat alone and likely end up doing the dishes like some pathetic Cinderella without a fairy godmother.

Then he'd steal a couple of Élodie's expensive French chocolates for dessert, go upstairs and have a sad wank alone, and come back down to get a drink—probably trying and failing to find anything but the gross boxed Merlot they kept under the sink and nobody wanted to drink. Nonetheless, he'd take the garbage wine to the living room and spite-watch the new episode of Zarina's favorite show without her, and if he was lucky it would be late enough that Élodie was up and maybe joined him for some cuddles.

Or yelled at him for eating the chocolates. Whatever.

In any case, Ace had no illusions that he wasn't sleeping alone tonight. Jeff and Zarina would work to well after midnight, Élodie would only start eating breakfast once Ace went to bed, and Felix would be in his don't-touch-me-or-talk-to-me mood after his work event inevitably ran long.

Lost in his thoughts, Ace managed the rest of the drive home without further meltdowns, but he was still seething once he pulled up in the driveway to the Richter manor. He didn't even bother to park the car in the garage—Felix would probably have nagged at him for parking wrong anyway—and just pulled to a stop by the front door.

He hefted out the ridiculously heavy grocery bags, silently complained that he was getting way too old for this shit, and left Jeff's car right there in the middle of the driveway to annoy anyone who tried to leave or enter the property. Hopefully it would get shat on by some birds.

Ace walked up the steps to the house and prayed that the handles of the bags didn’t snap. He managed to maneuver the bags into one hand without catastrophe striking, and unlocked the door with the other…

And the door got jammed. Fantastic.

"Fucking…piece of shit!" Ace cursed, violently jiggling the key in the lock.

Finally, the door unlocked and Ace shouldered it open. Once inside, he turned to face it and, hands still occupied, kicked it shut with as much force as he could.

The whole wall shook and rattled from the impact and Ace glared at the door some more.

“That’ll teach you,” he said smugly.

“Mon Dieu, what did the poor door do to you?”

“Very funny,” Ace said, still annoyed. He turned around to face Élodie, already complaining, “You gonna give me a hand or—”

And that was when he very nearly dropped the bags he’d worked so hard to get home in one piece.

Élodie was not wearing the comfy reindeer one-piece she usually lived in after a long business trip. Neither was she wearing her regular silk pajamas or one of Jeff’s oversized band shirts she was prone to stealing.

No, Élodie stood there in the Richter manor’s foyer on an unassuming Tuesday afternoon, dressed in nothing but a sinfully flattering bustier and lacy stockings.

“Welcome home, m'amour.” She strutted up to Ace and gave him a kiss on the cheek, which was probably good considering Ace’s mouth was occupied with gaping like a fish. “Do you like my new outfit?” she asked, stepping back and doing a little twirl.

"I, uh…" Ace floundered as he greedily drank in the sight of her, his previous anger all but forgotten.

The mint color of the lingerie contrasted Élodie’s skin tone beautifully. White lace framed the swell of her breasts and the tiny hem of a skirt was barely enough to cover her panties. Ace’s eyes followed the garter straps down her thick thighs and he had to swallow a groan once they reached the lace edge of the stockings.

Élodie really wasn’t playing fair; she knew how weak Ace was for the thigh-highs.

"You’re stunning,” Ace said, a little breathlessly. His fingers itched to touch and he realized he was still holding the stupid bags.

Not one to be deterred, he eagerly continued, “That bustier is gorgeous. Did you buy it on your trip? You look even more beautiful than usual, if that’s possible.”

Élodie smiled, clearly pleased. "Flatterer."

"Wait, how are you up already?" Ace remembered, reluctantly tearing his gaze away from her figure. “Were you waiting for me?"

"Of course I was,” Élodie said. “We had to send you away for some errands to not ruin the surprise.”

"What surprise?"

A low chuckle sounded to his left. "Don’t tell me you forgot your own birthday,” Jeff said, stepping out of the kitchen. “Oh, let me get those for you.”

Jeff grabbed the shopping bags from Ace, but he barely registered the action—a small part of his brain was celebrating that somebody had remembered his birthday, another was relieved to finally be rid of the heavy bags, but the rest chose to focus on…

"Are you wearing flannel?" Ace exclaimed. It couldn’t be: Jeff hated flannel. Jeff didn’t even own flannel, and Felix sure as hell didn’t either, so—

Jeff shrugged, his cheeks pinking. "You keep calling me a lumberjack, so…"

"A sexy lumberjack," Ace corrected. Then, his expression softened as he realized, "You dressed up as a sexy lumberjack for my birthday."

Jeff gave him a tentative smile. "Do you like it?"

Like it? Jeff looked like something straight out of a gay porno, with his luscious beard and messy man bun and red and black checkered shirt that hugged his massive shoulders and soft belly.

"I'm gonna climb you like a tree," Ace concluded.

Jeff laughed, then stepped back into the kitchen with an, “I’ll go put these away.”

"What’s with the dress-up party?" Ace asked, turning back to Élodie. "Did you two conspire some birthday shenanigans while I was gone?"

"Two?" Élodie quirked an eyebrow. "Your turn, mon coeur."

And that was when Felix stepped out from around a corner where he'd apparently been eavesdropping.

"You got me a Felix?" Ace joked. "I love it."

Élodie chuckled. "Your actual gifts are in the kitchen. I just thought this was more urgent."

"And that's why you're the brains of this household," Ace’s mouth ran on autopilot while he ogled Felix.

Felix fidgeted under his gaze, crossing and uncrossing his arms over his chest where he was wearing a gold-trimmed white vest over a black dress shirt. He looked unfairly good—he always did, but these clothes somehow only highlighted it.

Ace cocked his head. "Is the vest new?"

"No, but it's the first time I've convinced him to wear it." Élodie pushed at Felix's shoulder. "Turn around, mon chéri."

"I feel like a Barbie doll," Felix muttered but still did as he was told.

"You look like one too," Élodie shot back.

Ace was about to add his own witty comment but proceeded to choke on his own spit instead as soon as Felix turned around.

Felix's vest had criss-crossed lace down the entirety of the back, and suddenly it became clear why he looked even better than usual today. He wasn’t wearing just any old vest Élodie had dug out from his overflowing closet of designer suits: he was wearing a corset vest.

Ace stepped closer like hypnotized, running his fingers over the X-pattern of the lace. The vest made Felix’s already drool-worthy shoulder to waist ratio even more pronounced, cinching his middle and highlighting both his broad shoulders and the curve of his ass.

Ace had never seen a man in a corset before and his brain was more than a little scrambled. He simultaneously wanted to grab Felix's tiny waist and cling to his defined shoulders and pull on the lace while Felix laid on his front and squirmed and—

"Doesn't he look adorable?" Élodie asked once Felix turned back to face them.

Adorable definitely wasn’t the word Ace would use. "Uh…" he looked stupidly up at Felix, silently wondering how much he’d have to beg to get him to wear only the vest in bed.

Felix winced. "I told you this was a stupid idea. He doesn’t even like it—"

"I want to eat you," was what finally came out of Ace’s mouth.

Élodie laughed and Felix sputtered, his face flushing with pink blotches.

"But, wait.” Ace shook his head, trying to refocus. “I thought you had that seminar today? I wasn’t expecting you home before…"

"I took the afternoon off." Felix looked at him with a small smile. "I didn’t want to miss your birthday."

Élodie cleared her throat and Felix grimaced.

"...Which I only remember once Élodie called me," Felix said. “I forgot, I'm sorry. I must have seemed like an ass this morning."

"I'm suddenly having a lot of trouble even remembering this morning," Ace said, then smirked when an idea formed in his head. "But I do remember you still owe me a kiss."

Felix chuckled and leaned down to kiss him, wrapping an arm around Ace's waist and pulling him close the way that always made Ace weak in the knees. His mouth was hot and insistent and Ace did his best to kiss back while eagerly pawing at Felix’s muscular chest over the vest.

“I got you flowers,” Felix said when pulling away, much sooner than Ace would have liked. “They’re in the kitchen. Did you want to…?”

“Mm, no, that’s okay.” Ace stepped back and looked at both Élodie and Felix in turn; they really made quite a picture. “I bet they’re beautiful, but I’m enjoying the view right here. Though I feel very underdressed,” he added with a grin and self-conscious shrug.

Élodie smiled knowingly. "Do you need some help getting out of your clothes?"

Ace perked up and certain other parts of him did too. "Yes, absolutely. I am completely helpless and exhausted from carrying groceries and require at least four extra—" He saw Jeff exit the kitchen. "—six extra hands to take off my pants."

Jeff chuckled and leaned in for a quick kiss, his lips warm and a little chapped against Ace’s.

“Here,” Jeff said, handing him a drink.

The cocktail was bright red and had a small orange slice on top. When Ace sipped it, the strong tastes of Campari and vermouth mingled on his tongue—ah, an Americano.

Ace sighed indulgently and leaned into Jeff. “Oh, this is so much better than that under the sink wine.”

“Ugh, I keep forgetting to throw that away,” Felix muttered to himself.

“Why don’t we head upstairs?” Jeff asked, his voice a deep rumble in Ace’s ear.

Ace shivered from the pleasant scratch of Jeff’s beard against his hair and the warmth of his big hand splaying over Ace’s lower back. It was a small miracle he managed to resist throwing himself at Jeff and ask him to carry him to bed.

“Are you sure? What about dinner?” Ace asked instead, managing to summon the last of his brain cells. “And shouldn’t we wait for Zarina?”

Yes, he might have been getting a little greedy, as he already had three of his partners right here who seemed very eager to celebrate his birthday. But it wouldn’t be the same without Zarina, because Ace loved them all very much and was sentimental like that.

He also really, really wanted a fivesome if he could get it.

Fortunately, Élodie informed him, “Zarina finished her editing earlier. Who do you think laced Felix up?”

Élodie laughed and Ace did too, because Zarina was freakishly strong for her size. He could vividly picture her aggressively pulling on Felix's corset with one foot braced on his ass.

"I'm actually sad I missed that," Ace said.

"The screaming was a little funny," Jeff admitted.

Felix’s face reddened even more. "It wasn't supposed to be that tight, and I was staying still even if she claims otherwise!"

Ace barked out another laugh, then suddenly felt silly, standing there laughing with the people he’d been so annoyed with earlier.

"I can’t believe I thought you guys actually forgot.” Ace said. He took a sip of liquid courage and sheepishly admitted, “I, well… I kind of had a tantrum at the supermarket. And on the drive home."

Jeff rubbed soothingly up and down Ace’s back and Felix just nodded, like road rage was perfectly acceptable. Élodie however pouted and stepped closer, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry we made you think we didn't care," Élodie said, then kissed his jaw sweetly. "We love you, mon chéri. You are so precious to us."

Ace’s face heated and even Jeff and Felix shuffled their feet awkwardly. Talking about feelings wasn't really something any of them were particularly good at—Zarina included—but for Élodie, it always seemed to come easy. They'd somewhat accepted that sometimes, she had to speak for all of them.

"Thank you, mi corazon." Ace clasped Élodie's hand with his spare one and kissed her knuckles, before looking up with a smirk. "I feel a little bad about planning to eat all your fancy chocolates now."

Élodie patted his cheek. "Trust me, I would have done much worse if you forgot my birthday.”

Ace laughed. "Noted." There was a muted crash from upstairs. "Um…is Zarina okay?"

Élodie cocked her hip and smiled suggestively. "Yes, she's just making the master bedroom a little…cozier."

“I’ve never seen that many candles in my life,” Jeff huffed.

Felix's brows pinched together. “If she starts a fire…”

"Oh, relax, m'amour," Élodie said. "This evening is all about romance—"

"Has anyone seen my strap-on!?" Zarina’s voice echoed from upstairs.

"It’s still in Felix’s room from last time!" Élodie yelled back, not missing a beat.

Ace nearly choked on his drink and Felix gave Élodie a look of absolute betrayal.

“Thank you!” Zarina shouted before a door slammed shut upstairs.

Élodie sighed. "Ah, and there goes that surprise."

Ace’s stomach did an excited little flip-flop. With the way things were looking, he probably wouldn’t be able to walk properly tomorrow.

But man, would it be worth it.

"We should check on Zarina," Felix said, when Ace knew what he really meant was, “I need to make sure Zarina doesn’t burn my house down or reveal any more embarrassing aspects of my sex life.”

Maybe Ace could convince him to demonstrate his previous encounter with Zarina and her strap.

“We should check on her,” Élodie agreed, then looked at Jeff and asked, "If everything with the order went okay?”

Ace craned his neck to peer up at Jeff over his shoulder. "Order?"

“I took the liberty of ordering in from that Ethiopian place you like,” Jeff said, still petting Ace’s back and making warmth spread though his whole body. “They're gonna deliver it in a few hours, since I figured we might be busy for a while.”

Ace frowned. “But they don't deliver this far out.”

"They do if you tip them well enough," Felix said in his I-threw-money-at-the-problem-until-it-went-away voice.

"More time for us to spend with the birthday boy," Élodie crooned, stroking Ace's beard. "Ready to celebrate, mon amour?"

Ace looked at his partners and felt unbelievably fond. To think that he was so sure they'd forgotten, when all this time they had all gone through so much trouble for him—Élodie masterminding the whole thing and even getting Jeff and Felix to play dress-up, Felix canceling his important work event, Jeff ordering his favorite food, and Zarina risking Felix's ire with the fire hazard…

Ace downed the rest of his cocktail in one go and grinned. "Lead the way!"

Élodie grabbed Ace’s hand and he locked elbows with Felix as she tugged him along. Jeff followed a step after them, his hand snaking around Ace’s hips and already undoing his belt buckle before they’d even reached the top of the stairs.

Best. Birthday. Ever.

#ace visconti #jeff johansen #elodie rakoto #felix richter #zarina kassir #riconti #jefface #felodie #zarinace #ot5 #dbd fanfic #dweetwrites #dbd #dead by daylight

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justreadertings · 2 years

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Elia and Elliott part 1

Ok so when I was a baby writer on here I submitted an ask? I think? To the lovely @morganofthewildfire with my first ever piece of fanfiction for her absolutely incredible, breathtaking fic Same Time Thursday as a link to the google doc! Which is totally fine if I didn’t also want it on my masterlist here lol. So Morgan, pls, I beg you, link this on your masterlist instead. Without further rambling for the people who know of none of these shenanigans, here is my first ever fic in it’s original form: my fic for a fic, Elia and Elliott (part 1)

Ok it’s 4 am and I cannot sleep, so here it is: literal fanfiction for your fanfiction. (I love these girls so much)

- Elia and Elliott

“Get out of my car.”

“It’s actually dad’s car soooo…”

Elia’s voice was hard, unwavering. “Get out. of. my. car.”

“Jesus, Lia I didn’t even do anything!”

“Elliott, if you don’t get out I swear-”

“Fine!” Her younger sister yelled. She grabbed her backpack off the floor of the car with an aggression Elia deemed wholly unnecessary. And slammed the door of it with ever more ferocity.

Whatever. Elia pulled out of the driveway, wanting her sister to hear the squeal of the tires. She only hoped in Elliott’s grumbling and stomping that she didn’t see their dad’s car stopped at the mailbox until she saw that little blonde head disappear into the house. And once Elia was sure she did safely, she pressed on the gas and was on her way.

She fiddled with the music, and when the radio’s indecisiveness began to grate on her nerves, she just slipped in the cd, giving into her emotions. If she was going to be sad, she might as well feel it all right now before she had to pick up Eden from his sculpture class. Her eye caught on the Dairy Queen in front of her. She might as well get a blizzard, too.

Elia sniffed, pushing back her angry tears, pulling into the drive thru, ready to feel the music and the ice cream and just drive the feelings out… until the car filled with beeping instead of those first few, sad lyrics.

Sighing in a way everyone told her sounded just like her father, she clicked Accept.

“Hey-”

“Honey, where are you?” Elia’s hands tightened on the wheel at her mother’s panic. “I got an alert that Elliott’s home but that you’re not with her, and Eden doesn’t need to be picked up for an hour-”

“Mom, I’m fine.” She pulled up slightly, trying not to be too close to other cars. She’d only done this whole drive thru thing like, twice, and she really didn’t need to get into a fender-bender right now. “I’m just getting food.”

A long exhale came from the other line. “Oh honey, ok. I just… you normally tell one of us where you are.”

“I was gone for like, two minutes.”

There was a long silence, and Elia winced. “Sweetheart, I’m not trying to smother you. I just- I want all my babies safe.”

Tears came to her eyes then. She’d been doing so well, too. She’d kept it together for the last three class periods, and even in the car- despite the yelling with Elliott. But this… “Mom, I’m really sorry.” Her voice wobbled heavily, and she considered herself very lucky that this line was taking forever.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

Elia wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “Nothing, mom, I don’t know.”

“Nothing? Or you don’t know?”

Elia rolled her eyes, then, even as she continued to wipe her tears from them. “It’s just been a long day. And I’m PMSing, and Elliott’s being awful and-”

“Did you get into it with your sister?”

“I really don’t want to talk right now. Can I just talk to you later?”

The other end was quiet for longer than Elia had known her mother to be quiet for. It was starting to stress her out. Until, “Ok, baby. Just please don’t be gone too long. Do you need dad to get Eden later?”

Elia sniffed, shaking her head even though her mom couldn’t see her. “No, no I was planning on getting him. It’s fine.”

“Ok, sweetie. Talk to you later?”

“Talk to you later.”

“Be safe. I love you.”

“Love you, too.” Elia pushed back the second round of tears, grateful for the timing of the line. She placed her order, and was very careful not to be too far away from the building as she pulled up. Just like her dad taught her.

Her song resumed, the first few chords making her heart clench. Her dad, she reminded herself. As she waited she slowly let her head rest against her seat, and exhaled. It’d been a long, long day.

With her ice cream now in her car, she was actually feeling worse, and she had to make a left turn to go to the middle school where she was going to wallow until Eden’s class was out. Screw it, she thought, and switched her blinker from left to right.

It only took a minute to get there, and then she, her noise canceling earbuds, and her blizzard were all parked at a swingset overlooking a pond. She sniffled again, and kicked her legs.

The song, “Little Moth” began to play, and she couldn’t help it anymore. Elia broke down into tears. It was a stupid song to have cued, especially because it was her and Elliott’s song anyway. The more she thought about it, the more upset she got. She had to place her ice cream down so she could just give in a cry into her hands.

Seventeen and a half years, and she still wasn’t used to it. She didn’t think she’d ever be used to it. She was just so tired of feeling like this. Tired of taking it out on everyone else. Well- really, she just kinda took it out on Elliott. Which made her feel worse. And then she thought of how jealous she could be of her younger sister, of the envy that overtook her, and how guilty it made her feel. She was so screwed up sometimes. She wished she didn’t feel like this. Wished her mom had just kept the lie, said her red hair had run in the family or something. She wished she was just like Elliott.

Her crying was interrupted by her own choked laughter. Gods, she must be really miserable to think such a thing. She sighed into the crisp air, her fingers tracing the carvings in the underside of her swing.

She took one more second of peace before getting up and facing the world.

“Can I come in?” Silence. She knocked again. “Elliott?”

An angry noise came from the other side of the door before it swung open. “What.”

“Can we talk?”

Elliott’s face softened, only slightly. She swept her hand in a dramatic motion as if to say, come on in.

Elia closed the door behind her. Eden and Emerson could keep themselves pacified. And besides, they were too nosy. Eden was a little sleuth when she’d picked him up. Questions like, “were you crying?” were not tolerated on the drive home. Neither was the constant questioning of her ability to drive. And the kissing of the ground when he’d gotten out of the car was a bit much.

“What’s up?” Elliott asked, nonchalant, as she collapsed back onto her bed.

Elia softly sat on the end of it. She knew she and her sister were very different people- the teal room with band posters all over it compared to her soft pink and beige aesthetic proved it. So did the music Elliott always had on in her room, where Elia preferred the quiet. But when it came to important stuff, they were actually very similar. It was like pulling teeth for either of them to admit they were wrong- which they got from their mom. And they both were slow to explaining their emotions- which they got from their dad. Or- at least they’d both picked up on it from him. She sighed.

“Sorry I freaked out at you today.”

“And kicked me out of the car.”

Elia huffed. “And kicked you out of the car,” she gritted out. “But… ok don’t tell mom or dad.”

That certainly sparked Elliott’s attention. She sat up against her pillows, an evil little smile on her face. “What did you do?”

Elia frowned. “I didn’t- I just. Ok will you stop making that face, or I’m not going to tell you.”

Elliott’s grin disappeared, and she turned almost too solemn. Still, she could see mischief in their shared blue eyes.

Elia braced herself. “Ok, so I kinda failed a huge project.”

“You what?”

“I know, I know, it’s terrible-”

“What? No. I thought you like… killed someone or something. I don’t know.”

Elia’s frown deepened, and she reminded herself why Elliott was not who she always went to for comfort.

“I mean, like, don’t fail all the time. That’s bad. But, you have almost perfect grades, I doubt mom and dad are gonna freak about one bad project.”

“They are when it’s my final project that’s worth 20 percent of my grade and the reason I failed is because I lied about it.”

Elia had only seen her sister make that face twice in her life- once when they’d gone to see Monster Jam and the first crash happened, and the second when she had given herself bangs in the sixth grade.

“I don’t know whether to be so happy or so confused.”

Elia hit her leg. “Neither! You should emote like a normal human!”

Elliott reigned in her laughter, pulling her blonde and blue hair up into a bun where the colors swirled. “Sorry, sorry. Just… I can’t even wrap my mind around it.” Her eyes drifted off into thought until they shot to her’s. “What did you lie about?”

Elia’s heart sank. “That’s where the whole, ‘get out of my car’ thing comes in.”

Blonde eyebrows furrowed. “Walk me through it.”

“I’d just had a really bad day, and then you wouldn’t shut up about Mr. Lee’s class-”

“What about Mr. Lee’s class?”

“You have him for Health, well I have him for Human Wellness.”

“Ok?”

Elia cringed. “Yeah, well our final project was a family tree.”

Even Elliott’s constant music seemed to pause. “Oh.”

She squeezed Foo-Foo, Fee-Foo’s baby that became Elliott’s baby when she was born. “Yeah. Oh.”

Elliott sat up completely, and started playing with the frayed holes in her jeans. “How’d he even know you lied?”

Elia only stared out into the yard where their brothers fought with plastic swords. “He kept asking about my hair.”

“Why didn’t you just lie?” Elia threw her sister a look. “What? It’s a valid question!”

“If you have to know, I did. And then he didn’t like my answer so he went ‘digging’. Apparently office records have my- the- the adoption papers or whatever.” She shook her head, turning to lean against the wall. “I mean… whatever. He was just such a… a-”

“A dick?”

Elia threw a stuffed bear at Elliott.

“What! He totally is! Mom told you about the whole thing where he wouldn’t let me use the bathroom last week, right?”

“Ew, no. He did that?”

“Surrreeee did. But I got him back.”

Elia could only imagine. “Good lord. What did you do to him?”

“I announced very kindly that he either give me the pass or I bleed on his floors. He chose right after that.”

Elia laughed. “You’re a terror.”

“I got to pee, didn’t I?”

“You weren’t even on your period last week.”

Elliott shrugged. “I got to pee, didn’t I?” She repeated.

Elia snorted. “Guess so.”

They fell into an easy silence before Elliott asked, “So Dr. Dick failed you? That’s so stupid!”

Elia closed her eyes. “Yup.”

They were quiet again until a very aggressive jump came from the other side of the bed. Elia peered open one eye to see her sister with that evil look back. “Oh my gods!”

“What?”

Elliott was actually giggling about her thoughts. She clapped her hands. “Lia, Lia oh my gods,” she laughed.

“What?”

“You should pretend like you didn’t know!”

Elia’s mind paused trying to catch up to her sister’s hysterics. But when she understood- she burst into laughter too. Full, heavy laughter. They both clenched their stomachs at the idea.

“And- and you can be totally like, wide eyed, and confused,” Elliott was gasping for air. “Just be like ‘I’M WHAT?’ Totally mess with him!”

“Oh my gods,” Elia could hardly breathe. “Lottie, oh my gods, that’s so funny!”

They were so entrenched in their laughing fit, they didn’t even notice their parents in the doorway.

“Now what in the world is so funny?”

Both girls turned their heads, but couldn’t calm down.

“It’s a long story,” Elia told them.

Their mom only smiled. “I’m just glad you two are getting along. Once in a blue moon.”

“Come on, mama,” Their dad smiled above her head, “Lest we ruin it.” He gave them both a fond look. “Just be down for dinner in about ten minutes.”

“Ok, papa,” Elia said.

Elliott gave him a thumbs up, wiping her tears with the other hand.

“Oh, they listen to you,” Their mom grumbled as she shut the door.

The sisters just shared a look once it was closed, and burst into even more giggles.

Ok I was not expecting that to be this long, but I kinda got carried away. I just love these two and their dynamic so much! I hope you enjoy this, and know how much I adore your writing :)) hopefully I’m still on the nose with your characters, but this is just how I view them ig. Plus- this helped me get out of my writing rut! Yay!! Anyway, I’d better at least try to get some sleep lol! Again- I hoped you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Taglist: @leiawritesstories @tomtenadia @fireheart-violet @backtobl4ck @morganofthewildfire @rowaelinismyotp @aelinchocolatelover @thegreyj @foughtconquered @swankii-art-teacher @booklover242 @stardelia

#same time thursday #morganofthewildfire #rowaelin #mywriting #reblog?#kinda sorta #sjm #sjm fanfiction #rowaelin fanfiction

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thewanderingace · 10 months

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HOOOOLY SHIT!!! Okay this is long bit the craziest shit just happened and I gotta put it all somewhere so story time!

Basically Fourth of July is the fucking worst and people are INSANE!

God I really hate this fucking holiday. So much. It's nearly Independence Day here in the US (July 4th) which means everyone sets off fireworks in their front yards for a week. I hate it. They terrify my dog and I live in the fucking suburbs so an errant firework means my house could catch on fire. They're dangerous. They're loud. They're ILLEGAL. But it doesn't stop tons of asshole from buying profession grade fireworks every year.

Tonight they're going off around me. All directions but far enough away that its quiet enough that my dog can't hear them and my house is safe.

Until a giant explosion goes off in front of my fucking house.

Scared the SHIT out of me and now my dog is screaming in fear. Me, my family, and basically all of my neighbors ran outside to see who the fuck set if off. There's smoke everywhere but we can't tell who set it off.

But this one neighbor who lives across the street from me comes running out of his house, screaming and swearing. Shouting "WHO THE FUCK SET THAT OFF!! WHO THE FUCK WAS IT!!" He's starts threatening and keeps screaming and then he levels his accusations at my next door neighbor because the majority of the smoke is in front of his house (consequently it's also in front of his own house since they live directly across from each other.) All of my neighbors and us are like dude you need to chill out. We're upset too but this level of aggression is ridiculous. He just keeps yelling.

And this is even more ridiculous because my next door neighbor, someone we who have been here a while know very well and who has dogs and would never shoot off fireworks because he has a brain, he was literally pulling out of the driveway when it happened. And he starts telling the guy to calm down. Aggressive dude keeps yelling he's gonna call the cops and yadda yadda. Then goes inside. The rest of us are standing outside like "what the fuck!?" He then comes back out and yells some more and tries to get us all involved and we're like "we're not gonna fight with you dude! Calm down!"

Let's skip ahead. We're all back inside but keeping an eye on things from our front door. About 15 minutes later the girl who lives there pulls up and parks on the street. She sits there for like 5 minutes. Then aggressive dude comes out and yells something's I didn't catch and then yells at her for having the dog outside without a leash on. They go inside and leave the car on.

Oh but it's not over yet! Fast forward about 10 minutes. I'm still inside still trying to calm my dog down when a car pulls up in front of aggressive dudes house. Aggressive dude comes flying out of his house, pounds on the dudes window, screaming "DON'T YOU FUCKING COME BACK HERE! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" I watch this car then speed away. Less than a minute it's back, pulls up out front and the girl comes outside and hops in and they drive off.

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!

My two next door neighbors and us all gathers on our porch to chat and at first we thought that dude set it off but then me and neighbor M think it was the family about 4 houses down. M saw them last year setting off fireworks in the same area. Right under the street light. It was mostly likely them again and they ran when it went off and we all came outside. M also saw them standing in front of their house when we came out.

Anyways, this holiday is the fucking WORST and I wish I lived alone on an island.

#long post #personal #mod post #stephs stuff #july 4th #fireworks #anti fireworks #just another holiday in America #at least no guns were involved.....

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existenial-crisis · 1 year

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Went to a game with my friend (who everyone thinks is my boyfriend) and I swear to God, H just gets in a completely different mood when he sees me with him.

It's so bizarre.

Even with all the BS me and my friend had to deal with at the game (i.e. stalker guy being there, HS kids taking pictures of us ["the paparazzi"], and people staring and secretly talking about us ["the fan club"]), I was just trying to watch the game with my friend because it was a big game.

The field was like, right by where the spectators can stand, and my friend and I were standing alone with absolutely no one around us (because no one wanted to stand at the game plus we were on the far side of the field). So, I mean, H was pretty much right there.

I told my friend, "You'll know if we've been spotted because there's no one around us, and he has a staring problem".

So... yeah. He was in this really aggressive, but energetic, mood, yelling, shouting, carrying on. Until he saw us. And he looked at us. And he just like, kept looking over at us. And then it didn't matter if there was a huge play out there on the field or not, he was just like... calm, quiet, and unfocused.

He always has this sad look about him, but that night, he was really off after he saw us. And he never went to the other end of the field again. He stayed closest to us for the rest of the game (which was like 3/4ths of the game). It was just weird. Usually he's all over the place and the loudest person on the field.

He also kept readjusting his belt on his shorts, except it was like, the front of his shorts. He kept readjusting like every time he would walk and see us. Dunno what that was about, but I started joking with my friend about it.

He also saw us right before he left town for the game and I was walking around with my friend (he drove by us) and he tried not to look but he did a double take and got all restless.

Like, why does he do it? If it really still bothers him a year and a half later, why does he still do it..? It doesn't make any sense to me. It clearly still bothers him. Sometimes he acts like he can recognize me and acknowledge me, and it almost gets him back in his old self again, and then he runs away and hides and goes completely ghost even harder than before.

I dunno, but I'm probably gonna go through and purge this account. I dunno what I was thinking.

All I can think about right now is how he told me "I think about you all the time, [my name]", "I am always wondering what you are up to", that he's always praying for my safety, "I have always thought the world of you, [my name], and I still do", "I care about you deeply/more than you know/more than I should", and "I just want you to be happy"...

And "I never want to hurt you".

#tc community #teacher crush community #teacher crush update #personal update

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tartlette1968 · 8 months

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I was going to make a long comment about something else.

But then this came up, again, this week.

I guess I'm not unique, I have an ambivalence towards "the Footy". But it's complicated. My Dad was an amazing man, and his whole life revolved around Aussie Rules Footy. The AFL was formed in the 90s, but the game has been in existence for... well frankly who knows exactly how long. Its roots lie in the Indigenous game, Marngrook. Some dispute this and that's only one of the problems.

My Dad would sit in front of the TV watching the game, and yell...

"Get in there, help him!!! You're playing like a girl... KICK IT!!!"

Well, you get the picture. His favourite phrase, however, was, "Weak as water."

He played the game, and knew as much about it as anyone would. He saw things on the screen that only someone who had good game instincts would see. He played the game for a long time, until he was 50, and then he became a boundary umpire. Because of this, I was always surrounded by footy players. They weren't overtly homophobic, but it wasn't an environment that screamed out a welcome to any player who was gay or bisexual. And this was a time when Footy was a "man's game".

When women started to do sports reporting, there was an atmosphere of resentment from the players. Constant attempts to embarrass the reporters out of the job with overt displays of naked genitals, aggressive incursions into personal space, exaggerated and incessant swearing, but it failed. Not least because most of the female reporters had grown up around football, and they were used to it.

Football players have always had a problem with homosexuality and bisexuality. Some of them were incredibly predatory, themselves, but what they feared was a fellow player preying on them. They feared being looked upon, feared being lusted after by one of their fellow players. In short, they feared that a team mate would treat them the way they treated the women they "fancied", or that a team mate would want to treat them that way.

But the sporting climate has changed rapidly since the turn of the century. Still, there have been less than a handful of players of any code who have publicly identified as gay in any of the male competitions, and no AFL players amongst them. It is also very likely that there are few same sex attracted players at all in the various AFL competitions around Australia, as the deeply entrenched homophobia likely drives people out of the game.

The most alarming thing is that there doesn't appear to be any intention to address this gross oversight.

There have been a number of AFL players who have taken a break from the game to work on their mental health. It is probable that some of these players have done so because of their sexuality, but it would be the absolute last thing they would admit.

The behaviour and attitudes of the spectators demands attention, too. Social Media posts about the AFL are peppered with racism and homophobia in their comments, in particular the platform formerly known as Twitter. Since Elon Musk has removed nearly every measure that was aimed at reducing abuse, it has worsened.

How long the AFL can maintain its popularity is difficult to say. If the issue is not addressed, the number of younger spectators, and players will decrease, as tolerance of homophobia, sexism, and racism is markedly lower in younger generations, and they will pass judgement with their feet.

Basically it's a case of shape up, or die.

#afl #Homophobia in sport #homophobia in afl

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olivereactsaboutgarbage · 1 year

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One Piece Chapters 121-129

It’s December now! The month I claimed would be the month to finally have consistent daily posting (I mean I said the same thing about October and November but I was lying those times so it doesn’t count)! The month of holiday festivities! The month where I have to try and remember what was happening in One Piece last time I read some of it! The month of the exorcism.

Chapter 121 - I Knew

Oh right, the princess was watching everyone die or something. Now I remember. Those punks... they killed the Chocobo!!!

Oh, when he puts it like that, Wil Wheaton makes it sound less like ��bounty hunting” and more like “abusing a glitch or exploit in order to not have to worry about earning money while you’re doing your speedrun”.

What happens next is that Wil Wheaton promotes his favorite Netflix show:

Nami and Zoro get turned into birthday cake decorations. I could have sworn I’d seen a screenshot from the anime before where Lufpy was a birthday cake decoration, but maybe I’m just wildly misremembering.

The large alcoholic reveals that his decision to defeat his manly friend in battle was a matter of pride, not ignorance--but now that he’s even less ignorant, he wants to kill Wil Wheaton! This makes Wil Wheaton’s friends behave aggressively.

Also, Lufpy, Usopp, and the Chocobo are ready to get back up and keep pressing on. Hooray for Chocobos! Not that I’ve ever played Final Fantasy.

Chapter 122 - A Dead Body is Useless

Bleurgh, Wil Wheaton’s power is so nasty... I don’t want to think about a Wil Wheaton sword piercing my flesh. I’d totally get a blood infection. I’m glad I’m not a large alcoholic right now! By which I mean what’s happening to the large alcoholic is totally like that one Danganronpa death. Y’know, that one.

...I swear I’m not obsessed with Danganronpa, I just happen to mention it a lot in my One Piece write-ups...

So what’s happening right now is that Nami, Zoro, the princess, and the large alcoholic are all damsels in distress, in the same way that beloved Ace Attorney character “Herlock Sholmes” was a damsel in distress in the third chapter of the second game with him in it. A princess being a damsel in distress? How cliche! ...Wait, actually, I think that’s already what she was, prior to this birthday cake scene. Well, that aside, Zoro uses vague platitudes to try and inspire the large alcoholic to action.

Zoro also declares that he will now cut off his legs, and...

Okay, that’s pretty good. Zoro has made yet another joke, and his power level has thusly surged forwards.

Just when Zoro was about to actually go through with it, he gets saved by a Goofballs ex Machina--a rare inversion of the typical Zoro ex Machina. What a shame, I actually would have liked it if Zoro stopped having legs... that would’ve been, like, disability representation or something.

lmao i see zoro is too much of a Cool Guy to yell people’s names, even when it would lend coherence to a sequence of panels

Chapter 123 - Luffy vs. Mr. 3

Hey, 3 is what comes at the end of 123!!! What a nice confluence of chapter number and chapter title. Not that I know what a “Luffy” is.

Oh, y’know what? This but from the front was the anime screenshot I saw someone post when I was like 14. I misremembered Zoro as Lufpy because Lufpy is normally the one who would be pointing at the sky. ...I guess Lufpy wouldn’t use a sword to do it, though.

Penny Nichols has a nice picnic for some reason. I think I was calling her Penny Nichols? Well, if I wasn’t, now I am.

Wil Wheaton locks up Lufpy’s feet in Shackles But Grosser, but this, as anyone could have predicted, only increases the potency of Lufpy’s Foot Fetish Moves. Which allows Lufpy to rescue Nami, Zoro and the princess more effectively.

However, even after punching Wil Wheaton into the stratosphere or what-have-you, he still seems to have reached an insufficient maximum effectiveness with which he is rescuing them. This is due to a lack of will, not a lack of ability. How mysterious...!

Chapter 124 - The Tea is Good

It turns out

...no... NO... I LET IT BACK IN...

...Excuse me for a moment. I have obtained a new method of expunging this demonic presence:

Excuse the black markings on the above panels. You’ll have to put up with this for a few days until the process is complete and I have regained my ability to utter... that phrase... without losing my grip on the threads that tie me to the mortal coil. Or, ideally, perhaps I won’t slip up again until the danger has passed.

Wow, I don’t remember that one being in Sonic Colors! ...Or maybe it was, and that’s why he shoved Tails into that elevator that one time.

The princess is the only person who realizes how to solicit Lufpy’s assistance, thusly once again proving that Competent Womanhood is a status that can only be held by one individual at a time, and overexposure to Lufpy has tragically removed it from Nami.

...Okay Penny Nichols might be my favorite villain so far. I like her design AND her gimmick. None of her colors seem to line up with the ones from Sonic, but I’ll forgive that minor continuity error.

You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew the sheer amounts of power Zoro derived from his jokes, Princess.

Usopp calls the Chocobo a good duck because it’s good at dodging, but there’s bad news headed his way: A gun!

Usopp also lights Lufpy on fire, which is good, but something bad also happens: Usopp catches on fire, thanks to... uh, whatever I was calling the male member of whatever team he’s from.

WHY IS LUFPY JACKED???

Chapter 125 - Candle Champion

oh NOOOOOO is Wil Wheaton coming back?! D:

Sanji is coming back.

Wil Wheaton comes back too. :(

WIL WHEATON HAS A MECH???

Wil Wheaton asks Penny Nichols for help. She agrees, on the condition that she gets to take a nap. Wil Wheaton tells her to skip to the part where she’s taking a nap, because he’s already unbeatable without her help. I hope this is the means through which Lufpy and the gang overcome Penny Nichols once and for all.

Woah, the princess has adopted the role of Competent Woman so hard, she’s Competent even in death... oh yeah everyone’s dead I think I forgot to mention that

It turns out

hngh... GAH...!!

Humanity restored.

Anyway, what I was trying to say is: Having hair that’s on fire is a really strange choice for someone whose ability is disabled by fire to have. Maybe his hair is the only thing keeping him alive? That’s scary. I’m glad I’m not Wil Wheaton. If I were Wil Wheaton, everyone would hate my Star Trek character and then I would end up having to play myself on Big Bang Theory!

oh this is at LEAST as fetishy as any special move lufpy has ever used if not moreso

OH LMAO LUFPY HAD THE SAME THOUGHT THAT I DID ABOUT HOW WIL WHEATON’S OWN HAIR DISABLES HIS ABILITY

I guess noticing people’s fashion sense is one of Lufpy’s character gimmicks that I haven’t commented on much up until now.

Using Usopp’s cleverness, Lufpy engulfs all his friends in flame! Uh, except Sanji I guess. Sanji is still busy engaging in the process of coming back.

Chapter 126 - Instinct

...Was Nami always barely-clothed in this scene or is the idea that her clothes burned up in a big fire?

Usopp uses one of the terrifying master’s tricks: Pretending one kind of bomb is a different kind of bomb. Wait, but the terrifying master was an awful boss! I thought better of you, Usopp.

The explosion guy whose identity I forgot tries to get revenge about this, but Zoro prevents that by lighting his own rice pun ablaze. Powerful!

OHHHHHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOOO THERE’S AS MANY OF WIL WHEATON AS THERE ARE CHAPTERS OF ONE PIECE??? That sucks, because Wil Wheaton is gross!!

It turns out

FUCK

Humanity restored.

As I was saying: Lufpy was able to overcome the army of Wil Wheatons by simply overcoming it.

While Sanji’s enjoying some tea, a basket starts ringing like a telephone. It turns out this is because there was a telephone in the basket, but even with that said: That may have been the most JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure-esque thing ever to happen in One Piece.

Oh, the person calling Sanji was Mr. Zero by the way.

Chapter 127 - Snail-o-phone

Oh yeah, also the telephone was a snail.

The large alcoholic is suddenly even sadder about his manly friend being dead. His manly friend is suddenly not dead. Well, that settles that, I guess.

Wait... is Penny Nichols ACTUALLY gonna get unceremoniously ignored? Is that why we’re getting arc wrap-up stuff now? What’s she up to at the moment?

Steve Buscemi ends up impersonating Wil Wheaton too well, and gets attacked by animals. Oh yeah, I meant Sanji by the way. You can determine for yourself where in that sentence I meant to say “Sanji” but ended up saying something else instead.

The joke’s on animals though, because animal cruelty is quickly

turning out

to be Sanji’s specialty. Huh? Did something happen just now? No... I think it’s fine.

Anyways, Mr. Zero can’t abide animal cruelty, so he plans on killing Wil Wheaton, by which I mean Steve Buscemi, by which I mean Sanji, by which I mean “too well”, the thing I accidentally said instead of saying Sanji.

That aside... Sanji now has access to the banana that will send him to Mr. Zero.

Chapter 128 - Pirate Pride

Ah yes, the palindrome cop and her cop boss who eats various things in various ways. ...Well, they exist!

hey why’d zoro get to keep his shirt? fire got rid of lufpy and nami’s shirts, why didn’t it get rid of zoro’s shirt? i bet there’s a lot of people out there who would have liked it if something happened to zoro’s shirt... wait is he still covered in blood under his shirt? never mind actually

As for why the princess also didn’t lose her shirt... that’s obvious. Boobs Hypnosis is just that powerful.

Is Sanji... alright... in this panel...?

He says that as if it’s new information to him, and not something he’s been incapable of shutting up about this entire time. Ah, Sanji... your Sanji Points are... so resplendent, yet so fleeting...

No context shall be provided.

Anyway, the giants want Lufpy and his crew to not die. That’s nice.

Chapter 129 - Straight Ahead!!!

Nami regains her Competent Woman powers, doubling the number of Competent Women. Incredible! However, this was extremely bad timing, as we are now in a situation where Competence is anything but a virtue. It’s time for the power of friendship to overcome Competence.

It does that.

Now some random fish has a big hole in it.

It turns out

Guaaaaaah...! Nooooo...!

Humanity restored.

Oh, so NOW Zoro’s shirt mysteriously goes missing. Couldn’t have gone missing when everyone else’s did, huh? It had to wait until NOW to go missing. I get it. Zoro’s shirt is like the type of FREAKING HIPSTER (!!!) who plays Undertale in 2018 instead of 2015. Zoro’s shirt is now the worst member of Lufpy’s crew. It has even fewer Sanji Points than Sanji or Usopp.

Someone is wearing birds. Meanwhile, it turns out the Competent Woman Counter is going to have to drop back down to 1, because Nami is like, dying

#one piece #is what i'm consuming #IT TURNS OUT

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rythyme · 3 years

Text

the deep shame i feel copying all the songs from my b*kugou k*tsuki playlist to make my ronan lynch playlist

#every. single. fucking. song #i mean. it's a bangin playlist but. holy god do not perceive me #boom boom murderboy and ronan lynch are Very Very different characters #but they have an unfortunate amount of superficial overlap #'i yell at people and swear all the time and use aggression as a front to avoid emotional vulnerability and my lack of self worth'#'i am literally described as a bomb in canon'#don't boo me i'm right #the difference is that one of them was written by a woman #who specifically intended to explore the intersection of toxic masculinity and queerness #and the other character was written by a straight man i don't respect #ronan lynch: i can't sleep because i'm too busy being gay and doing crimes. also acab.#explosion bishounen: i am basically a cop in training going to cop school and i go to bed at 9pm #ronan lynch: i like danger and fast cars but actually that's a metaphor for my repressed homosexuality #explosion bishounen: homosexuality?? are you fucking gay???#also one of them has friends. the other has a superiority complex.#you might think that i hate this little superhero shit. in fact i do not. i'm just tired of his canon #trc #ronan lynch my beloved #ry.txt

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helliontherapscallion · 3 years

Text

Safe

Pairing: SBI family x reader (platonic, one shot), BASED OFF FROM CHARACTERS NOT ACTUAL PEOPLE

Warnings: child abuse/neglect, bullying, alcoholism, death of a parent, mentions of panic attacks, injury, mentions of a dog’s death, mentions of eating disorders, mentions of suicide attempts, depression

Word count: 7,730

(A/N): if you’re not feeling safe at home or are being abused, please contact the proper authorities. Here’s the abuse hotline: 1-800-799-7233, my DMs are always open if you want to talk

You met Tommy and Tubbo when you were in third grade. You were a relatively quiet kid, the type to always keep to themselves and abstain from social activity. Mrs. Jansen, being the nice woman that she was, let the entire class choose their own seats.

“Welcome to your first day of third grade, class! I’m Mrs. Jansen and I look forward to getting to know all of you. As you can see, there are enough desks for all of you. You may sit with who you want.”

You shifted around uneasily and gripped your book in your hands as your classmates hurried to get the back seats. After every seat was taken, you walked to the only seat left in the front. You were between a girl and a boy. They introduced themselves as Dorothy and Samuel, and were relatively kind to you.

As the class passed their second week, two boys that sat in the back row made themselves apparent very quickly. They were both rambunctious, always disrupting the class with their giggles and whispers. Mrs. Jansen had warned them multiple times that she was going to separate them, but it seemed that they didn’t think she’d do it. One day, she finally had enough.

“Tommy, Tubbo. I’ve given you plenty of warnings, I’m going to have to separate you. Dorothy, Samuel, can you please switch places with them?”

You could feel dread wash over you. Why was she putting you between them?! What did you do wrong to deserve this? You could swear that you’ve done all your chores, you even made your mom smile at you! She never did that.

They pouted as they sat next to you, Tommy on your right and Tubbo on your left. You already missed Samuel and Dorothy. “Thank you. (Y/n), make sure they behave.”

You shrunk down into your seat as you felt Tommy’s glare burning holes into the side of your head. Tubbo, on the other hand, was watching the lesson with bored eyes and his chin propped up in his hand. You tried to take notes, but you kept getting distracted by Tommy’s heated glare. You were going to fall behind, you couldn’t have that. Mama wouldn’t like that.

After the final bell rang, you hurried out of the classroom to avoid Tommy’s wrath. You could hear him shouting for you to stop, but you never stopped until your hand was grabbed and yanked backwards in the empty playground. You fell back onto the pavement of the basketball court and whimpered at the sting in your palms.

Tommy glared down at you, “you gonna cry? Serves you right. Never tell on Tubbo and I. Got it?”

You tearfully nodded and he grinned maliciously at you, “good. Tubbo, let’s go. Wil and Tech’s probably waiting for us.”

The brunet was staring at Tommy with a shocked expression, unmoving. Tommy rolled his eyes and huffed before he grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the crowd of families. Tubbo looked back at you with an apologetic expression and watched as you looked at your scratched up palms.

You wiped at your tears as you stood up and started to walk home. Your neighbor’s dog behind the wired fence barked at you as you hurried past it. You never liked that dog; it was a drooling, angry, ugly furball. It scared you, but not as much as Mama did when she drank her adult juice. She was scary when she drank it. You tried hiding it from her once but she grounded you from eating dinner and snacks for half a month. You didn’t try to hide it again.

You trudged up the creaky wooden stairs of your porch and tried to open the door only to find it locked. You tried to knock on the door but Mama didn’t answer so you just sat on the front porch waiting for her to open the door. She did so when the sun was setting, surprise and then anger shining through her hazy eyes. She yelled at you before she sent you to your room for the night without dinner.

The next day when you were sitting alone at a lunch table, someone plopped down in the seat next to you. You jumped and scooted away from them, looking up only to see Tubbo. He was smiling at you.

“Hey, I’m really sorry about Tommy, he gets mad easily.”

You eyed him warily and clutched your open book, “...it’s okay.”

He grinned and scooted closer to you, peering over your shoulder at the book. “What’re you reading?”

“‘Harry Potter’.”

“Oh I love that book! My favorite character’s Ron, who’s yours?”

Surprisingly, the conversation was pleasant before he was dragged away by a glaring Tommy. You might actually make a friend after all. Later that day after school, Tommy once again stopped you in the school yard. This time, he shoved you to the ground and started to shout at you.

“You do not talk to him, freak! You’re gonna mess him up, he talks to me and me only. Do you unde-undastunend?”

You gulped and shakily spoke up, “yes, and it’s ‘understand’, not ‘undastunend’.”

His glare intensified before he reared back a fist. You yelped as you curled into a ball with your hands protecting your head. Before he could hit you, you heard the stomping of shoes against the concrete.

“TOMMY STOP.”

You could feel a hand on your back and a gentle voice asking if you were alright. You hesitated before you looked up to see an older boy with a mop of curly brown hair on his head and wire glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He reminded you of Harry Potter. Looking past him, you saw a tall pink haired boy glaring and lecturing Tommy, holding the struggling boy in place with a firm grip on his elbow. Tubbo was just behind him looking down and shifting on the balls of his feet.

“I am so sorry about Tommy, are you alright? He didn’t hit you did he?”

You shook your head and the boy heaved a sigh of relief, “that’s good. I’m Wilbur and that’s Technoblade, we’re Tommy and Tubbo’s brothers. What’s your name?”

“(Y/n).”

He smiled at you, “that’s a lovely name.”

“Wilbur, let’s go. This one,” Technoblade shook Tommy’s arm, “needs to talk to Dad.”

You watched as Tommy’s movements stopped and he looked up with wide eyes. “No, please don’t tell Dad. Please-”

Wilbur stood and helped you up before grabbing Tubbo’s hand and lead him away, “you aren’t weaseling your way out of this.”

You watched the brothers leave, feeling guilt wash over you. You didn’t want to get him in trouble, punishments were the absolute worst. Even though he shoved you and almost punched you, he didn’t deserve any punishment. With guilt weighing down on your shoulders, you walked home. At least Mama was in a good mood, she made you some mac n cheese for dinner.

The next day, Tommy trudged up to your desk and put a tupperware dish on your desk before sitting down in his seat and ignored you. Tubbo sat in his seat next to you and smiled at you.

“Open it,” he jumped in his seat slightly as he watched your expression change to shock. In the container laid five chocolate chip cookies. You had only had cookies once in your life and that was during a class birthday celebration a year ago. “They’re our Dad’s secret recipe, I helped make them! Um, Tommy wanted to apologize to you.”

You glanced at Tommy. He was glancing at you over his shoulder and blushed a bright red when he saw you looking at him. Tubbo cleared his throat and gestured at Tommy. The blond crossed his arms and looked off to the side. “Sorry,” he mumbled halfheartedly.

After that, they started to sit next to you during lunch. Tommy was a bit cold towards you, but you found yourself beginning to relax around Tubbo’s friendly aura. Soon enough, you started to supply him with more than a few words per sentence. Tommy eventually got bored of eating in silence and would join your conversation. You three became thick as thieves that year, you even met their Dad. He was very different from Mama; he never yelled at you, he was always giving you snacks, and he even smiled at you often.

That house became like a second home to you. Eventually, you ended up spending more time at the Minecraft residence than you spent at home with your mom. Over the years, she got worse with her drinking. She was always passed out on the couch and when she wasn’t, she was swaying on her feet in the kitchen staring at a portrait with dazed, wistful eyes. You can remember when you first realized that she had a problem and always being unhappy and drunk was, in fact, not normal for a parent.

It was a warm spring day in seventh grade. Luckily, you had your health class with Tommy and Tubbo. You were currently learning about alcohol dependency and the effects it had on the body. The teacher listed all the symptoms your mom had; the uncontrollable urge to drink, the aggression, the shakiness and dizziness, everything. When you came to the realization that your mother might have a problem, the teacher started to explain the disorders and diseases that could come from heavy drinking, most of them having the potential to be fatal if the drinking persisted. You felt like you were drenched in icy water as your body seized up in fear for your mother. You stared unseeingly at your notebook at the symptoms of alcoholism and associated disorders. You didn’t want your mom to die. You had to do something before it was too late for her.

“(Y/n)?” You jumped and looked at the person who called your name. Tommy and Tubbo were giving you worried stares. “Are you okay?”

You shakily started to put your supplies away into your backpack. The class had been dismissed and you didn’t even realize it. “Y-yeah. It’s just- I’m worried.”

“Yeah, I’m worried too,” Tommy laughed as you followed the two out of the classroom and to the courtyard. “That essay’s gonna be awful.”

“Oh god we have an essay?”

“Yeah, Mr. Smithers assigned it to us before the bell rang, are you sure you’re okay? You’re usually on top of this stuff.” Tubbo threw a worried glance towards you.

“Yeah, just a bit distracted today. I uh, have to go home. Like right now, my mom wants me home right after school today.”

You sprinted off towards your house. When you reached your neighborhood and ran past the wired fence. The bulldog that lived there was now old and gray. You found out that his name was Buster and he was actually a total sweetheart if you slept next to him on the other side of the fence on more than one occasion. Buster watched from inside his doghouse as you sprinted into the house. Luckily for you, the door was unlocked and your mother was passed out on the couch surrounded by glass bottles. You locked the door behind you as you rushed over to her intensely watching for any sign of movement. She looked dead, her skin was pale, her hair matted, and her mouth gaping open showing off her yellow stained teeth. She wasn’t moving, were you too late?

Just as you started to panic, she snorted and started to breathe. You slumped in relief as you stepped over the beer bottles into the kitchen. The table was sparkly clean with a pristine picture frame resting in the middle, a stark contrast of the beer bottles that littered the floor and the piles of dirty dishes in the sink. It was of a man standing stiffly in a military uniform saluting at the camera with a stern expression. He was an exact copy of you. Well, you were an exact copy of him; that man was your late father.

“Hey Dad, how was your day? Mine was awful, I learned about alcoholism and cirrhosis today and- and I’m worried about Mom. She’s been drinking a lot lately.”

You stared at your dad’s face behind the glass as if expecting a response. You wanted some reassurance from the man. You wanted him to tell you everything was going to be okay and that he’d handle it so you could be a normal kid. Like usual, his steely expression didn’t budge one bit.

You sighed to yourself sadly and trudged to the refrigerator opening the door. The beer bottles stared back at you tauntingly. Your fingers twitched on the fridge door as you contemplated the consequences of throwing away the offending glass bottles. You remembered in second grade when you hid your mother’s alcohol she punished you by withholding food from you. She’d probably do worse this time, but the consequences were worth it if you were going to save your mother’s life.

It took you ten minutes of tossing alcohol into the garbage can until the fridge was left barren of the drink. Without the green bottles, the fridge was completely empty with the exception of milk and a few probably rotten eggs. You struggled to take the trash out to the curb and started to work on homework in your room.

At seven at night, you could hear her roll off the couch and stumble into the kitchen. A series of frantic rustling and banging sounded downstairs before you could hear pounding footsteps storm up the stairs. Your door flung open to reveal your red-faced, livid mother.

“What the fuck did you do?”

“M-mom I hid them because we learned about alcoholism and cirrhosis and-” You cut yourself off when she walked over to you with her arms extended towards your trembling frame. You tried to scoot as far away from her as possible, but she grabbed your shoulders with clammy but firm hands, shaking you roughly.

“Are you saying I have a problem?! You spoiled fucking brat, you’re the problem! Everything was amazing before you came and fucked up my life. You took him away from me. YOU FUCKING KILLED MY HUSBAND.”

You could feel tears start to drip down your cheeks as you remembered that day in first grade when you begged your dad to get you some McDonalds for dinner. When he relented, you cheered and your mom laughed at your excitement. She was so full of life back then; her hair was shiny and bouncy, her skin was unmarked and flawless, her eyes were lively and bright. Her laughter was perhaps your favorite memory of her. Then everything went to shit when your dad never came home and your mom got a phone call saying that your dad was killed in a car wreck on impact. You could remember your mother’s heart wrenching sobs as she collapsed to the floor and pulled you tight against her body. As if she was trying to protect what was left of her husband.

You were snapped back to reality when your mom shoved you back onto your bed. The happy, beautiful woman that you saw was replaced by the shell of a broken woman. Her silky hair turned dull, her smile turned into a grotesque scowl, her loving eyes turned cold. She truly was a husk of her former self.

“Stop crying, you’re not the one who’s life was ruined. I want you out of my house in ten minutes. You’re gonna not step foot anywhere near here for two weeks. If I even see you on my property before those two weeks are up, you’re fucking dead.”

You frantically nodded and watched as she stumbled out of her room. You packed what you would need in your spare backpack and ran out of the house past your mother sobbing and babbling incoherently to your dad. You flinched when you could hear a bang and the sound of glass shattering when she threw a bottle at your retreating figure.

You ran until you couldn’t run anymore. Your legs brought you to the park where you spent most of your childhood. Everywhere you looked, you could see glimpses of your mom and dad pushing you on the swing, Tommy and Tubbo running from you playing tag, Mr. Minecraft putting a bandaid on your scraped knee. Tears streaked down your cheeks as you pushed yourself up and went to your safe place. It was a little nook deep in the vegetation where nobody could see you. You originally found this place when you were playing hide and seek with Tommy and Tubbo. They never knew where you hid.

Tears moistened the soil underneath you as you pulled out a blanket you had hid in a plastic grocery bag and spread it out on the floor. You curled up on it and cried freely into your hands. You didn’t sleep much that night.

That was the first time she had kicked you out for that long. You barely ate in those two weeks, wolfing down any food you could get your hands on at lunch. Lunch for you was the small scraps of food that Tommy and Tubbo shared with you. Mom never packed you lunches or gave you money to buy things anymore. To make matters worse, they had told their dad that they thought you had some form of eating disorder.

About a week into your exile, you finally visited the Minecraft residence after avoiding them for a week. You remembered how the blond man pulled you aside into the kitchen. He gently sat you down and pushed a plate full of chicken and vegetables in front of you. You looked at him confused as he gestured towards the plate.

“Eat that, I heard you haven’t been eating much lately.” When you made no move to eat, he smiled at you. “Go ahead, it’s okay if you don’t eat it all. Just eat some of it.”

That was all you needed to hear, you began to eat quickly like a starving wolf. It’s been a while since you had more than half an apple to eat, let alone an actual homemade meal. When you were done, you looked up to see the older man looking at you worriedly.

“...Are you not getting enough food at home?”

You scrambled to find a lie, “my- my mom is away a lot on business trips. We don’t really eat much.”

His worried expression grew tenfold as he moved to kneel in front of you and put his hands on your shoulders. “You need to eat three meals a day, especially now that you’re growing. You’re always welcome here when your mom’s away, our door’s always open. Is she away now?”

“Yeah, she won’t be home until next week.” You felt bad for lying to the man that put bandaids on your scraped knees and took you to the father daughter dance in fifth grade when he heard that your dad was dead. He was always so kind to you, which you never quite understood. Despite feeling bad for lying to him, you felt incredibly relieved that you didn’t have to be alone anymore.

From then on out whenever she kicked you out, you went to the Minecraft residence. They welcomed you with open arms and treated you like you were a part of the family. You and Techno bonded over your love for reading and mythology, Wilbur made sure you took care of yourself, and Philza (he told you to just call him Phil at that point) treated you like his own child. You didn’t think that it was possible for you, Tommy, and Tubbo to be any closer than you already were, but you three became inseparable. You told them everything one night when you couldn’t sleep. You told them how you felt like you were the cause of your mother’s decline and your dad’s death, how she would usually punish you, her ‘hobby’. They were about to tell Philza, but you begged them not to. After a while of pleading and assuring them that she’d never hit you, they hesitantly agreed and made you promise to call them whenever you felt unsafe in your home.

You kept to that promise, calling them whenever she would get too drunk to know what she was doing. They would calm you down from panic attacks late at night and invite you to their house in the daytime. They felt like your actual brothers and you started to refer to them as such. You three gave each other a shoulder to lean on and gave each other comfort when needed. One night when you were in your freshman year, however, your mother caught you sneaking out to see them after she sent you to your room. That was when she started to hit you.

Just as you were about to sneak out the front door, your mother started to scream at you incoherently. When you flinched away from when she got up in your face, she became even more enraged.

“WHERE WERE YOU GOING? I BET YOU’RE WHORING YOURSELF OUT, AREN’T YOU LITTLE SLUT?”

Without thinking, you yelled back at her, “I would never! Why-” You were cut off by a harsh slap to the cheek sending you to the ground. She quieted down and stared at you and her hand, a glint of shock shining through her dazed eyes. Without a word, she turned around and left to go talk to your dad. You sat there listening to her rant about how she failed as a mother, how she wanted to do better but she didn’t know how, how she wished that he was there with her. You scrambled up and ran to your room. You looked at yourself in the mirror, there was a bright red mark on your cheek in the shape of a hand. There was a small cut where her wedding ring connected with your cheek. A single drop of blood dripped down your cheek and curved down the dip of your chin before dripping onto your shirt. Without doing anything else, you plopped down onto your bed and sobbed into your pillow, crying yourself to sleep.

When you woke up in the morning, you realized that you slept through half of the school day so it was useless to go to school now. You reached up to run a hand down your face only to hiss and pull your hand away. You once again looked at yourself in the mirror.

You looked terrible. Your eyes were bloodshot and swollen like you were crying in your sleep. Hair was sticking up in all directions and matted slightly. The slap mark was gone, but the cut had bruising around the edges with dried blood crusted on your cheek and on your pillow. It was a small cut, but it bled a surprising amount overnight. You couldn’t see Tommy or Tubbo like this, they’d flip out. Luckily for you it was a Friday and you had the weekend to heal.

Your mother gradually started to hit you more and more. It started off as a once-a-week thing whenever she was really angry, but then it divulged into something that would happen daily over the smallest things. You became her punching bag for her to release some steam. Makeup became your best friend at that point; you used what little savings you saved over the years for dollar store makeup.

Soon after it became a struggle to hide the cuts and bruises from Tommy and Tubbo, so you gradually started to avoid them. Your face, once synonymous with the Minecraft residence and Tommy and Tubbo, became a rarity. They tried their hardest to contact you, but you always dodged their calls. After a few months of you dodging Tommy and Tubbo, you finally told them that you didn’t want to be friends with them anymore.

It broke your heart to say it, but it had to be done. They were getting too close to the truth and you couldn’t have that; the government would take you away from your mom and she’d end up dead. You were the only one keeping her alive at this point, she lost all motivation to eat. The only thing she did nowadays was hit you, drink, and hug your dad’s photo to her chest.

The beatings got to the point where you could barely walk without feeling pain. School became something that you’d rarely attend. Tommy and Tubbo stopped trying to talk to and call you. Buster, your previous confidant, had long since died so you were truly alone in the world. The neighbor’s yard looked barren without the dog house and the graying dog. The only person you had left was your mom.

When you had accidentally burnt dinner late at night, she completely snapped. She grabbed your arm and held it on top of the burner. Pain hit you immediately as you screamed and cried apologies to her. When you instinctively hit her with your other hand, she dug her nails into your arm and pushed your arm closer onto the burner. Nerve endings screamed at you to get away from the pain. The pain was becoming too much, so you looked on the countertop next to you for something to defend yourself with. A metal fork was lying close to your other hand.

You grabbed it and, with a distraught apology to your mother, drove the prongs deep into her arm. She screamed in pain and let your arm go. You ripped yourself out of her grasp and started to run for the front door. A force collided with the back of your shoulder making pain explode in the area. You didn’t know what happened at first, but after hearing the shattering of glass, you realized that she threw a beer bottle at you. You could feel the sting of alcohol and glass mingling with your open wounds on your shoulder. The sting was almost as bad as your arm, but you didn’t stop running especially when you glanced behind you to see her running at you with a knife raised and the fork protruding from her arm.

You flung open the door and sprinted out without bothering to close the door behind you. As your bare feet hit the sidewalk, you could hear your mother stop at the end of the stairs and shout at you to come back. You never stopped.

You didn’t stop until your feet took you to the Minecraft residence’s front door. Nobody was on the street as it was about eleven at night. You hesitated to knock on their door, you ignored the family for the past six months, and you weren’t sure if they even wanted you there. After five minutes of thinking, you just sighed as you walked back down the wooden stairs and walked back towards the sidewalk.

“(Y/n), what are you doing here?” You froze up at Tommy’s sleep riddled voice. You stayed frozen as you heard him stomp over to you. He placed a firm hand on your injured shoulder and forced you to turn around. His angry expression faded into a concerned one when he heard you start to sob and flinch away from him.

“Wha- shit are you bleeding?” You nodded slightly and he gently turned you back around to see a patch of darkened cloth on your shirt. You could feel him shaking as he grabbed your arm and pulled you into the house. He plopped you at the dining room table and told you to wait there. With that, he sprinted up the stairs and brought back a serious Philza holding a first aid kit.

When he saw you bruised and battered, you could hear him take in a sharp intake of breath and saw unbridled anger flash across his face. You flinched away from him when he approached you.

“Hey,” he said in a gentle voice, “I won’t hurt you. Can you show me where you’re hurt?”

You eyed him warily like a scared wild animal and reluctantly moved your burned arm away from your chest and showed it to him. This was the first time you saw your forearm; it was an ugly red that expanded up the majority of the underside of your forearm with skin burned off at the edges. Yellow, fluid-filled blisters were starting to form.

You could hear Tommy’s horrified gasp as he turned to run out of the room. You kept your gaze downwards as Philza warned you that he was about to put disinfectant on your wound. He apologized to you when you whimpered in pain at the sting of the alcohol on your exposed nerves. After he was finished wrapping your arm, he asked you to show him where else you’re injured. You turned around so he could see the growing patch of blood staining your now ripped shirt. You could feel him gently move your shirt to the side and heard him wince.

“Shit, there’s glass in here. I’m going to have to get some tweezers to get it out. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” You were then alone in the kitchen for a moment before he came back with a worried Wilbur and Techno in tow. The brunet pulled up a chair next to you and asked if it was alright to hold your hand. After you hesitantly nodded, he grabbed your hand and started to run his thumb over your knuckles. Techno held a light close to your shoulder as Philza started to tweeze out the green tinted glass from your shoulder.

Every time you would suck in air through your teeth and muffle your yelps with your other hand, Wilbur would whisper reassurances to you and hold your hand tighter. After the glass was out, the wound was disinfected, and wrapped in gauze, Philza told the boys to leave the room. He grabbed both of your hands and gave you the best reassuring smile that he could.

“Tell me what happened.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you felt tears well up in your eyes, “I tried Phil, I really did. She never got better no matter what I did.”

“What do you mean, are you talking about your mom?” You could hear the angry undertone of his voice. You tensed up and nodded.

“She… she needs help. She was never the same after Dad died, she started drinking. It started off with only one beer a day, but after seventh grade she was going through an entire case in a day. She’d punish me if I said or did anything about it. No dinner for a week was a popular one until she started to ban me from the house for weeks on end. She never went on business trips, Phil. She got a knife today. I-I thought she was actually gonna kill me this time, I was so scared.”

Without another word, he pulled you into a tight hug, letting you sob freely into his shoulder. “It was my fault, I couldn’t help her! She- she needed me and I couldn’t help her.” You said between sobs. He hugged you tighter and started to rub your back, making sure to avoid your shoulder. “None of this is your fault, you can’t help someone if they don’t want help. Sometimes you can’t fix someone who’s too far gone.”

“Am I too far gone?”

“No, you aren’t. We’ll help you through this, we won’t let anybody hurt you ever again. You’re gonna go on to live a good life.” You passed out in his arms after a while of crying.

When you woke up, you were in Tommy and Tubbo’s room. The two boys jumped to your side and pulled you into a tight group hug. After you tried to apologize to them for how you treated them in the past six months, they shushed you and just sat there in silence hugging you.

Later that day you found out that your mother was found by your neighbor on the front porch with her wrists slit and empty beer bottles surrounding her. She was breathing, but just barely. Currently she was in an unstable condition in the hospital. You had a full breakdown when you found out that she almost killed herself because of you. You had run out of the house and to your safe place in the park. You hadn’t been there in a few years, so you hoped that it was still there.

Sure enough, it was still there albeit a bit overgrown. The blanket in the plastic bag was in the same place where you left it. You had no idea how long you were sitting there crying and having a panic attack, but when you came to your senses it was dark outside. You could hear crickets chirping and the rustling of leaves in the entrance of your hideout.

A brunet head poked itself in and smiled when he saw you. Tubbo fully came into the nook and gestured for someone to follow. Tommy’s blond hair made itself apparent before he joined you two inside.

“Nice little place you have here. It’s… homey.” Tubbo rubbed his hands together and blew warm air on them. You threw one side of the blanket at him and pulled your knees up to your chest. “Thanks, I used to sleep here sometimes… How’d you find me?”

“We could hear you,” Tommy pulled out his phone and typed something on it before pocketing it and sitting next to you. He covered himself with the blanket as Tubbo followed suit. You sat in silence before Tommy broke it.

“How long has she been hittin you?”

“Tommy!” Tubbo scolded him.

“She started about six months ago.”

“Six months ago… that was when you cancelled plans! I knew something was wrong Tubbo.”

Tubbo said nothing as he looked at you with a helpless expression. Just as he was about to open his mouth, you interrupted him. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. Everything’s my fault. I’m the reason my mom’s in the hospital right now fighting for her life. I wasn’t there for her.” You would’ve started crying if it weren’t for the fact that you just felt so drained and numb.

“The fuck do you mean? She was about to kill you! You told us that she was about to stab you, what else were you supposed to do, just let her kill you?!” Tommy exclaimed.

You shrugged, “maybe. If she did she’d be happy, I was just a burden to her. I- I just wanted her to be happy and I would never be able to do that as long as I’m alive. If she killed me she wouldn’t be in the hospital right now.”

“What the fuck (y/n),” Tubbo shouted, startling you. He never shouts, let alone swears. “How could you even say that? I don’t know what I’d do without you, everything would be so boring and nothing would be the same without you. Fuck her happiness, she’s a wretched woman if the only way she can be happy is when you’re dead. Fuck her.”

You and Tommy stared at the seething boy in shock. He never shouted when he was angry, he only did that once when he found out that Tommy was being bullied. Whenever he sweared, that’s when you knew his emotions were hitting him at full force. Tommy quickly recovered from his shock to join him, “yeah fuck her, man! She can go suck a dick.” He was interrupted by his phone buzzing.

“Dad’s here, c’mon he’s worried sick about you.” After they helped you out of your safe place, they both wrapped an arm around your shoulders and walked you to the parking lot. You could see the headlights of the lone car in the lot turn off before the door swung open and a figure rushed towards you. You pushed yourself behind Tommy and Tubbo and hid behind them fearfully. They both turned around and put a hand on your shoulders. “It’s okay, it’s our dad.”

You peeked over their shoulders and saw a mop of disheveled, long blond hair. Philza looked like he was just told that there was an antidote for a fatal poison he just ingested, despite the flash of hurt that showed on his face. His blue eyes were accentuated by the redness of his sclera and you can see the relief painted in them. A gentle smile was on his face as he moved his arms up. Without another word, you launched yourself at him and pulled him into the tightest hug you could manage with your shoulder.

“Are your accusations true, Mx. (L/n)?”

Your gaze flickered over to your mother sitting on the other side of the courtroom. She looked at you with no expression on her face. Her wrists were wrapped tightly in a white bandage that was a stark contrast to the bright orange prison uniform and the silver of the handcuffs. She wasn’t the woman you knew when your dad was alive. The life was sucked out of her the second she picked up that phone call.

You looked back at the lawyer, “yes sir.”

“I have no further questions, your honor.”

“You may return to your seat, Mx. (L/N).”

You stood up and walked as confidently as you could past the dull eyes of your mother and back to your seat between Tommy and Tubbo. You held their hands tightly as the trial moved onwards. Buster’s owner even stepped up to the witness stand to give his testimony. Apparently he knew about the abuse from your late night conversations with Buster. He had contacted CPS and the police multiple times but the case was always dropped for some reason that you couldn’t bring yourself to ponder. A few of your previous teachers even showed up to give their testimonies. Their words, though true and slightly sweet, rubbed you the wrong way. If they ‘knew something was happening at home with you’, then why didn’t they do anything when it was happening? You tried to focus on the rest of the trial.

Your mother’s only witness was herself, and she did a piss poor job at it. She was basically digging her own grave with every word that came out of her mouth. The entire time, she was staring at you with her infamous dull eyes.

“Do you have any further points you would like to add, Mrs. (L/n)?”

“Yes, I have always loved my child. They were my husband’s pride and joy, the splitting image of him. Their rightful place is safe with their real parent at our home.”

You could feel Tommy attempt to stand up, but you pulled him back down; now was not the time for him to start yelling in anger. Tubbo squeezed your hand in reassurance and glanced at you. You were staring at the woman you called your mother with pain and hate filled eyes. You wished her words were sincere, but you knew fully well that they weren’t. The words that left her mouth would’ve been one hundred percent true and genuine when your dad was still alive, but he’s buried six feet under in a military cemetary now and he has been for years. You would’ve given anything, even your own life, for those words to be true a month ago, but you knew better now. Mothers don’t treat their kids like this, they’re supposed to give their children their unconditional love and take care of them. As far as you were concerned, she was no longer your mother. She forfeited that title the second she turned to the bottle. Philza is and will always be more of a parental figure than she’ll ever be.

After the jury left to discuss, the court was in a recess. You slipped out of the room and speed walked to the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror. You could see heavy eye bags under your dull eyes. The dullness of your eyes, to your horror, reminded you of your mother, so you splashed your face with water. That fixed it, your eyes were slightly brighter. You could still see the faint outline of the scar on your cheek from when she first hit you. Small scars littered your face from the more recent wounds she gave you before you ran.

A knock sounded at the door, “(y/n), the recess is almost over.” It was Techno.

You patted your face dry and went to leave the bathroom. The pink haired boy that you now saw as your older brother was waiting patiently for you on the other side. He put a gentle hand on your shoulder and led you back to the courtroom. There, the rest of the Minec- no, your family was waiting for you. Just as you reached them, the judge announced that the jurors would be arriving back. The entire courtroom stood as they walked in.

“Have you reached a verdict?” The judge asked.

“We have.”

“Mrs. (L/n) and Mr. Langsburg, would you stand and face the jury? You may read the verdict.”

“We the jury of the state court find the defendant guilty under the charges of child abuse and child neglect.”

Tommy clapped a hand on your shoulder as Tubbo squeezed your hand. They both smiled widely at you. You, however, didn’t acknowledge them. You were only staring at the empty eyes of your mother as she was looking at the jury. Her reaction was akin to her breaking a pencil, like it didn’t matter to her. Like all the years abuse that she put you through didn’t matter was as trivial as breaking a pencil.

“So say you all?”

“Yes, your honor.”

“I hereby sentence Mrs. (L/n) to twelve years in the state penitentiary with no opportunity of parole. Mr. Philza Minecraft shall be bestowed the custody of Mx. (Y/n) (l/n) as they do not have any next of kin. Court is adjourned.” With that, she banged the gavel and the courtroom exploded in the bustling of people. You never took your eyes off from your mo- no, the monster with the dull eyes as she picked at something in her nails boredly. Just as she looked up to meet your gaze, Tommy pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you off the ground slightly. You were passed around the family in the courtroom for their individual hugs. Philza’s was comforting, Tubbo’s was congratulatory, Wilbur’s was warm, and Techno’s was slightly awkward, yet soft.

At home, you spent most of your time in the spare room Philza had given you. He had offered to help you decorate it, but you had no idea where to start. You were never allowed to have decorations in your old room. You kept the room simplistic and your possessions light.

You often stared at your dad’s portrait on your nightstand wondering what your life could’ve been like if you never asked him for McDonalds that day. Your family probably would’ve been stationed in who knows where and moved around often, as is customary in most military families. You probably would’ve never met Tommy and Tubbo in third grade. You probably would’ve never met your now older brothers and new father. You didn’t want to imagine a life without them.

After a few days of you being locked up in your room, Tommy and Tubbo came into your room with mischievous grins. You knew them like the back of your hand, so you knew the second you saw their faces that they were about to do something. You sat up and looked at them suspiciously.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re not doing anything, (y/n). Right Tubbo?”

“Right Tommy.” Tubbo nodded curtly. They still had grins on their faces. They walked over to your bed before they picked you up and walked you out of the room. You didn’t have the energy to fight them, so you laid limp in their arms. They eventually took you down to the living room and plopped you down onto the couch between them. Techno tossed them a blanket when they then used to wrap you tightly into a blanket burrito. The home screen of Disney Plus was pulled up on the TV and the curtains were drawn. Philza and Wilbur exited the kitchen with glasses of water and two big bowls of popcorn.

They smiled widely when they saw you squashed between your brothers, putting a bowl of popcorn in your lap and three glasses of water nearby. The two next to you dug into the popcorn as the rest of the family made themselves comfortable on the couch.

“What are we doing?”

“Movie night! We’re gonna binge the Marvel movies, your favorite!” Tubbo grinned at you, practically bouncing in his seat.

“Just double checking, the order is Captain America, Captain Marvel, Iron Mans One and Two, Incredible Hulk, Avengers, Thor-”

You cut Wilbur off with a mumbled “first Thor, then the first Avengers movie.”

“Glad I asked then! The timeline would’ve been thrown off.”

As the movies progressed, you started to finally feel like you belonged as a part of the family. Laughter came easier to you, mingling effortlessly with the family’s laughter. Every time you laughed at a scene, they would give you a smile and laugh alongside you. Eventually after about halfway through Captain America: The Winter Soldier, everyone had fallen asleep on the couch. Soft snores and the quiet sounds of the occasional fight scene filled the room as your eyelids started to close involuntarily. You looked around the room at the rest of your family. They all looked peaceful in their slumber. Tommy and Tubbo’s protective hold of their arms around your shoulders made you feel safe. It was in that moment that you realized that they would never let anyone hurt you ever again. You were a part of an actual, loving family. With that, you let yourself fall asleep into a peaceful slumber surrounded by the people that loved you the most.

General taglist:

@crybabyjabby @izzybobizzy13 @goldenstarofthunderclan @bunnyz-pxstel @averytiredfanfictionwriter @dcml04 @sparkling-gayyyy @bbigbbrainn @thaticecreambish @kiinokochii @satansphatass @bxkubitch @bxmentchildxx @roxy3457 @montygator17 @feverish-dove @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @jichuuchaeng

3K notes · View notes

izukult · 3 years

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little things with bakugo

—when you two first get together, he makes a playlist and titles it some completely inconspicuous thing like ‘workout playlist’ or ‘kicking extra’s asses’ but if you click on it it’s over four hours of songs that remind him of you.

—if you two are coming up to a door, he’ll slow his walking down a little bit so you both get there at the same time. it’s an excuse to hold the door open for you and just say “hurry up, you’re in the way.”

—he’ll find out your favorite meals way in advance so he can practice making them before he makes them for you just to know he’ll get it right.

—insults do not relent when you get together. arguably, he ‘bickers’ with you more than anyone else in public. behind closed doors, his voice is much quieter, but he’ll still bark an anxious curse your direction if you ever say something sweet.

—he was scared that if he held your hand he’d accidentally blow it up, because if he was holding your hand his hand would probably be sweaty and what if he got anxious and then activated his quirk or like broke your fingers or something.

—he sends kirishima screenshots of texts he sends you and asks him if he’s being boyfriend-y enough. (when kirishima asks him what boyfriendy is, bakugo tells him “i don’t know, sweet or some shit.” immediately followed by a fuck off)

—he plans out spontaneously giving you clothing. he literally washes the shirt, sprays it with cologne, and plans to coincidentally give you something. what a freak smh

—when you two started dating he found out his zodiac just incase you ended up asking him. he didn’t want you to ask and him to seem stupid, so he prepared.

—will swear tooth and nail he doesn’t love you. it kind of becomes a little game between you two. you’ll make some little joke about how lovable you are, and he’ll roll his eyes and grunt out a “stop fuckin tryin about that, i told you i don’t love you dumbass!”. he does though, he 100% does he’s whipped.

—he pays a little extra attention in classes you don’t like and takes notes with just a little bit more detail so he can send photos to you afterwards incase you dozed off or just couldn’t focus.

—pays so much attention to you. it doesn’t matter what it is. listens to everything you say, subconsciously checks to make sure you’re eating and drinking enough, if you have medication he’ll send you a strongly worded text reminding you to take them

—he will also forget the dumbest shit. remembers exactly what happened between you and your friend summer of five years ago on a thursday but can’t remember your favorite color for the life of him.

—arm around the waist kind of guy. isn’t super touchy in public, because he doesn’t want people using his life against him. if he gets jealous, though, he’ll make it everyone’s problem

—really likes it when you play with his hair, but only in private. if he’s having a particularly bad day, he loves to train, shower, cook something, and eat with you on his bed. afterwards, once your dishes are away and your fingers are treading his hair, he’ll rant to you about what pissed him off.

—friendly teasing! all the time! when he gets more comfortable, his aggression will go from yelling and mindless insults to snarky quick jabs with hushed laughs. he gets so proud of himself after a good remark

—after he cries in front of you the first time, he ignores you for nine days. but then he shows up at your room and is crying about ghosting you (to be fair, though, if he cried in front of you in the first place he was probably going through a hard time and not being around you didn’t help)

—he loves riding passenger while you drive. loves picking the music (but will only choose songs he knows you like too,) and he gets to look at you while you drive. if you have any road rage, he totally feeds into it. you’ll just yell at cars through your closed windows even if you look stupid as fuck

#ramsey rants ab katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x self insert #bakugo imagines #bakugo scenarios #bakugo headcanons #bakugou headcanons #bakugo hcs #my hero academia x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugo fluff

3K notes · View notes

dienamights · 3 years

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Ex’s and O’s | K.Bakugou

» Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader.

» Word count: 6.7K

» Genre: hurt/comfort, Smut MDNI, Prohero!au

» Summary: Its bad enough that you’re spending your ex-boyfriend’s birthday curled up in bed, wearing his merch, drinking away your sorrows, but what’s even worse is having your eardrums pierced by the blaring music upstairs at the party thrown just for him.

» Warning(s): Smut 18+ MDNI please, hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol, dubcon since reader is under the influence while getting dicked down, drunk sex, oral sex and fingering (female receiving, we getting fed tonight), one pussy slap lol, manipulation, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy)

» Author’s notes: Hello! aaaah I’m actually pretty excited about posting this fic! First of all, its Bakuhoe’s birthday! and what better way to honor it than to feed you all some good ol angst sprinkled in with some good dickin’ down. Its been years since I’ve written smut and I’m actually really fuckin proud of it, yet real nervous but I hope you enjoy! Secondly, this fic is a part of Bakugous Birthday Bash! I’m so excited to read everyone’s work, thank you everyone for holding this event and allowing my ass participate to create this with you all ♡ be sure to read everyone’s contributions, I know it’ll be more than amazing since everyone worked so hard!

Happy Birthday to our favorite King Explosion Murder♡♡

Lastly, I wanna thank everyone for their support and helping me reach 200 followers already! You guys are the cutest thing ever and I promise I’ll update more frequent the minute I’m out of uni late june fml, thank you @tteokdoroki for giggling with me when i wrote cock for the first time lol

» Masterlist | Requests

Rolling out of bed and flailing onto the floor as a start of your day ensures you that the following 24 hours will ultimately suck ass. Getting up and readying yourself for the day by looking through one of your cardboard boxes for your favorite Dynamight hoodie, the back of your mind keeps nagging you, trying to remind you of something buried deep in your subconsciousness, and you have half a heart to try and remember, because for some odd reason, you feel so fucking weary, as if the few steps from your bed to your bathroom are somehow now endless miles, almost making you breathe out in relief after finally reaching it.

And as you are making your coffee, that odd feeling keeps annoying you again, prodding at your brain to remember something, something. And ultimately, that's when your eyes fall to the counter. You knew this day was coming and you were dreading it for months, so as you look at the calendar on your kitchen counter, you frown, the quote of the day you always love reading so much long forgotten when your eyes fall on the date.

“You’ve gotta be kiddin' me.” You mumble at the calendar on your counter hatefully with furrowed eyebrows, as if it would either reply or change its date, it doesn’t do either, and your lips curl downwards even further. As in immediate response, you pick up your phone, your coffee pot tossed aside as you dial the number of the only person you could think might help you right now.

“G’morning y/n -” you hear Kendo’s voice through your phone, and you honestly want to sob right then and there, but you hold yourself, barely and speak over her overly cheery voice first thing in the goddamn morning. “It's Kats- Bakugou’s birthday” you whimper at the slip up, being so used to the first name basis you were in with your now ex-boyfriend.

“Yeah, was kinda hoping you would’ve forgotten.” She sighs, tugging at her bangs and pulling back her phone to check the time. “Tell you what, I get off work in an hour, then I’m spending the day with you. I’ll get tequila, I know you love your shots.”

“Ken, it's like 10 right now..” you can’t help but pout, having alcohol in your system as an escape to help you forget about the entire day still sounding better than the urge to cry and crawl into a hole, even if it's at the start of your day. “Y'know what? Get those gummy worms I like too.” “Bet.” you hang up with a sigh, moving back to the kitchen to sift through your bubble wrapped kitchen utensils, barely forcing yourself to prepare breakfast as to not have your liquor on an empty stomach.

You loathe the fact that you remembered his birthday, always reminded of him no matter how long ago since you’ve last seen him, being the center of the media’s attention for years as the number 6 hero in japan has its perks, well, in his case, but to you? Nothing but trouble and heartache as every channel you flip through plasters his face, whether it be about some big rescue mission he partook in or a new rumor about a potential lover to the explosive hero, followed by him almost attacking a reporter, yelling to them about ‘needing to mind yer goddamn business and keep my fuckin’ name outta your mouths’. Therefore, you opted long ago to stay away from the TV to avoid seeing him, his captivating rubies for eyes, covered by that goddamn mask you like to push up to his forehead, sweeping his bangs away and exposing his sweaty forehead that he bumps against yours as he makes love to you, still in his hero costume, all battered and dusty and so incredibly hot you have to-

You grip your coffee mug tighter, almost to the point of breaking the handle off of it, placing it rather roughly onto the table before pushing your food away, appetite gone with the thought of whatever paradise you were thinking you were in before now long gone and never coming back, all because of you, of your action, of your mistake.

Kendo walks in with a bright smile on her face, as if her overly cheerful attitude will balance out the void you’re slowly but surely falling in. She shakes the bag of snacks in your face as you blink your eyes back into focus. Dragging your heavy feet across the floor to get to your kitchen to retrieve the shot glasses. Only kissing her cheek in thanks when you snatch away whatever it is she brought with her to lift your mood.

She eyes the boxes by your kitchen, the four placed haphazardly in your living room and the one you're using as a stool while filling your shot glasses, tongue sticking out to try and fill each one to the brim without spilling any on the new coffee table that she failed to notice before is still wrapped in bubble wrap that prevent any damage during the moving process.

“y/n…” you hum in response, a frown falling on your lips as the third glass spills a bit and the liquid pools on the plastic.

“Don't you think that you should’ve probably unpacked a while ago? Hasn't it been, what, five months?”

“I didn't know you were gonna come here to harass me about my life choices, Kendo”

She flinches away, your tone venomous, almost feeling it as a slap to her face, before leaning in when she sees your eyes start to water.

“If I did, that just means it's true… that just means it happened, and I did the stupidest thing- you know what,” you wipe the few tears that managed to escape away with the sleeve of your sweater, looking down at the shots in front of you. “It, it doesn't matter anymore just- can I just drink and try to forget about how my life has gotten nothing but fucking worse since the day I left him?”

You questioned your worth that one time, that one time all those months ago. Thinking that by doing what you did and leaving, he’d drop everything and run behind you, chase after you and win you back, but he didn't, and as you sit surrounded by the evidence of how much of a failure you find out you are without him, you regret ever questioning it, ever questioning him. Because to you, living in denial was so much better than whatever hell this is.

So all you could think of is to just drown yourself in alcohol until your mind is too numb to think of the possibilities of how you could have avoided this, how you could’ve been a less of shitty person, and stop imagining how your life would be now if you just swallowed all your insecurities and just stayed. Despite the neglect, despite not being prioritized, because in some weird twisted way, those lies held you with warmth that you were never able to find after uncovering the ugly truth you’re living in right now.

You lay on your living room floor, the alcohol swirling in your system and clouding your vision as you trace imaginary shapes in your ceiling, the voice of Kendo muffled as she rambles on and on about her day, the amount of outlaws she bitch slapped - a term she uses to get a laugh from you - and how she considers herself the unluckiest being in the whole world for having Monoma as a partner of all people, seriously contemplating who she should beat up first between him and the villains.

“Must be nice,” you voice, low and slow, scared of how Kendo would react to what you’re about to say, yet your intoxicated self unable to stop your mouth from uttering the words. “To have a purpose in life, to not be quirkless and lost like us.” your face twists in an ugly scowl at your ceiling, but mostly to yourself for putting a downer on whatever mood your friend is trying so hard to build, proven by the hitch of her breath before she enters your peripheral vision when she leans over you, all upside down and pouty.

“What’re you talki-” the shrill ringtone of her phone breaks you away from each other as she leaps to fetch it and silence the god forsaken thing by answering the call. “Battle Fist here, yes sir, I was partnered up with Phantom Thief for the patrol at area B, n-no sir I wasn’t informed.” Kendo breaths out in irritation, pinching the bridge of her nose as she starts tapping her feet aggressively on the floor, eyes falling onto yours when you look up at her all weary and sad, knowing what she would tell you once she hangs up. “That dumbass is gonna be the end of me I swear.” She crouches down to your level and kisses your forehead, promising to be back in the morning with hangover food, before she leaves and locks the door behind her.

Now you’re left all alone, back aching from laying on the hardwood floor and eyes watering as you feel your loneliness eating you up inside, the god awful music thumbing loudly in your ears followed by the cheer of people as you-

Music?

You sit up abruptly, groaning at the dizziness of the swift movement as your hands fly to cover your ears, a failed attempt of ensuring your brain doesn’t begin to spill out from them, because of the loud voices, the bass shaking your entire fucking apartment by how strong it is, and you curse yourself for falling for the scheme the landlord pulled you in, paying half of the rent everyone did, just because you lived right below the penthouse that hosted the loudest parties in the area, 4 days out of the fucking week.

The money hungry shameless bastard praised the apartment the minute it spiked your interest all those months ago, selling it so well you actually moved in the next week, anything to stop feeling like a burden to Kendo as you couch-surfed her apartment. Only to realize within that first week from your downstairs neighbors that he rents the penthouse to host parties of all sorts, and due to its location in the city, it was pretty popular, yet you didn’t have the money to move out again, nor the heart to concern your friend with your problems, as she was a hero with other responsibilities aside from taking care of your hopeless self.

So you get up, barely gathering yourself onto that elevator to tell off whoever the fuck will answer the door first to turn the music down. You pound the door with your fist repeatedly the minute you reach it, the door opening so suddenly you almost punch the man standing in front of you in the chest, the cool air created from the door cooling your warm cheeks as you squint at your victim for the day.

“Welcome!”

“Listen here, you buttfaced moron” you start to chew the person’s ear out, your sight blurring yet still able to notice how bright his hair is, how fiery and familiar it looks, and you’re certain you’ve seen it somewhere before. “I’m trying to drink away my regrettable life choices and cry over my ex-boyfriend, so if you would just turn down the-”

“y/n?” oh, that’s where. Your stomach drops as Kirishima looks down on you, the bright smile he flashed to whoever he was welcoming now dropped with his eyes almost bulging out at your presence, you both stand in silence, the boy unbuttoning the collar that suddenly feels like it has a chokehold on him while you cross your arms and hope the floor would swallow you a floor down back into the comfort of your home.

Kirishima basically is shutting down the second his eyes lay on you, breaking a sweat as your eyes never waver, despite how you fail to stay standing straight, what was he supposed to say? ‘Hey we’re throwing a birthday party for your ex-boyfriend because he's been feeling depressed from the day you dumped his ass’ ? No! He wouldn’t do that to his friend, but what was he gonna say now?

Well, he didn’t have to really think about what to say to you, because his other friend didn’t hesitate to push him forward, slurring something along the lines of ‘lettin the hot ladies in so they can take a look at the prettier blond, aka moi’. In his moment of panic, the redhead stumbles forward, his cup slipping from the tips of his fingers and meeting its doom by the floor, whatever was filling it now staining your pants as you both look at the mess between you.

“Woah bro, we said you gotta get’er wet but not- '' Denki's cackle stops him from continuing whatever filth he was gonna spew out - thankfully - before his eyes drop down to your chest, or more like what was covering it. “Hey! You a Dynamight fan? Hey Bakuhoe, comere for a sec.”

Dear God, move, for the love of all that's pure in this god forsaken world, move! Run!

All you could do is shake and breathe in short segments as your widened eyes meet his unamused ones, the garnets in his eyes glistening at your sight, he stands straight and so tall, suited up in his usual attire. Dressed for the occasion, words aren't able to describe his beauty. You try not to let your brain be dazzled by how incredibly handsome he looks. He is wearing a dress shirt, in the deep color of wine that complements his eyes, dress pants hugging his long legs, not to mention the open collar, and no tie. He looks like a long, lean Lothario.

At that your eyes drop down to the floor, specifically the now stained carpet, your hands wrenching the end of your hoodie to distract yourself from the piercing rubies that haunts your dreams.

You build up some courage, enough of it to lift your head to continue what you came here to do, so you open your mouth, and drop a few IQs while you’re at it. “The m-music is loud and m’tryin’ to sleep,'' you mumble, noting how Kirishima leans down to make up the words you are saying over the sound of the blaring music while Bakugou narrows his eyes at you as if disregarding his sight will make him hear you better. “So, if you could turn down the heat, that’d be,”

“You squiffed?” The blond grunts, leaning his face close to yours to inspect it, and he catches a whiff of alcohol in your breath, his eyebrows furrowing at your response. “No I'm not squinting-”

“Yeah you’re drunk alright,” he huffs at your less than intelligent reply, pushing his glass of whiskey - you figure since it's always been his drink of choice - against Kirishima’s chest, telling him to lower the fucking volume and grabs you by your bicep. “C’mon, I’ll take you home.” you stumble at the force used against you, no matter how weak it actually is, before you barely straighten yourself to push his hand away. “I can walk down all by myself, thank you.” Of course you’d expose where you live, you dumbass.

He doesn’t question your integrity, just continues to basically drag you to the elevator before pushing your apartment door open when you choose your floor, irked to find your misplaced trust in the people of the complex by not locking your door after leaving. He barges into your bedroom and tells you to change out of your fucked up pants and proceeds to saunter to your kitchen to get you water, eyeing the boxes that he comes across during that small trip.

He stands awkwardly by the door when he sees you standing in the middle of the bedroom, sifting through countless moving boxes with your pants on the floor, thrown next to a pile of clothes that he can only assume that its supposed to be your laundry ‘basket’, until you opt against wearing any since you can't seem to find anything to replace them. And when he asks you if you just moved in, his expression sours when you shake your head no and explain to him that you’ve been living for months in this space, after chugging that cup of water like you’ve been parched for days.

“Birthday party?” You ask out of the blue as you play with the strings of your hoodie, your ears perking up at the confirmation hum you receive. “Hmm, thas’cool… I-I guess.”

Bakugou’s impassive as he gently pushes you onto your bed, eyes meeting yours as he covers you up with your blanket. “Get some rest, I’m leaving.” He said, slowly stalking away from you and barely reaching your door as your big mouth talks on its own. Your body sitting up and facing his retreating back.

“That's what you always do, you always leave”, you utter and you see him stiffen his shoulders before he spins to face you, so fast you almost want to check up on him about getting a whiplash.

“Hah?” it's one syllable, but it shakes your very core, that one sound making you almost shake, overwhelmed by the amount of emotions, the amount of pain that one sound has. He steps closer to your bed, the stomps of his feet sounding like gun shots in your ear, and you pathetically lift up the blanket to cover yourself up, cowering behind it like it's some pseudo shield that might protect you from him.

“I’m the one that leaves?” he growls at you, his eyes sizing you up when you react to his forceful approach, leaning back to look down on you, but his lips are still curled in a frown, he tries to hold himself from blowing up at you, his feelings oddly enough still raw in his chest the moment he lay eyes on you the first time since you left, threw him away and walked away, probably finding someone better, probably finding someone who you tolerated, unlike himself, but when he sees you straighten up your back to rebuttal him, an automatic response to whenever he raised his voice at you from all those years ago, he knows he is in for a fight.

He snarls when you nod at him, your eyes hard and glaring up at him, not knowing that your silence is by your better judgement since you don't trust your voice, knowing it’ll fail you, probably crack and show him how much he actually is affecting you by his closed off posture and demeaning look down at your frame.

“Real fuckin’ rich of ya, y/n.” He snaps back, his hands brought up to his hair, tugging at it. “As if you didn’t pack your shit,” he kicks at yet another cardboard box fucking spewed in your room, noting its heavy weight when it didn't move but an inch by his action. “Dropped your keys by the fuckin’ door,” as an emphasis, he throws your apartment key at you, making sure it doesn’t actually hit you, but falls onto your lap. “And left. Without a single fuckin’ word, like I'm some lowlife who didn't deserve an explanation, like I didn't deserve anything! And-” that hurt, goddamn it.

Exhaling deeply, he focuses on how your eyes look a little less glossed over, a little more sober, but holding fear, and he almost steps back and out when he looks at how you’re fighting tears, almost wanting to bust his own kneecaps than to see you like this, always wanting nothing for you but to be happy, to never upset about anything no matter how small it might be.

Then why did you leave him? Left him to drown by his lonesome self, waves of his insecurities and sorrow crashing into him, pulling him even further down to his inevitable doom.

Despite the fact that you both yearn for each other, long to feel one another, engulf yourselves in the others presence. You both stand your ground, eyes glaring despite the emotions hidden behind them, mouths shut and curled into ugly scowls regardless of the words you wish to speak to each other, whispers of promises into each other's ears about being together forever, in spite of not knowing what the future holds.

Bakugou breathes out again, recalling all those months worth of coping mechanisms to exercise when placed in anger inducing situations like this one, the time in therapy spent to better himself, to control himself, to be the best version of himself, for you, hoping that one day you’ll pity him enough to want to come back, knowing full well he would never hold a grudge against you and welcome you back with open arms, intending to never repeat whatever it is he did that made you think of him as so unbearable you couldn't spent another day with him.

You on the other hand, are barely holding in the tears, wanting him to just leave your sight, so you can go back to the world of denial where he didn't look like straight out of a magazine, looking as captivating as always, as if your absence did not have an effect on the hero, of course it wouldn't, why would a quirkless extra have an effect on the great Katsuki Bakugou, that's what he used to call them, right?

“Just leave, Bakugou-” his ears pick up the way your voice breaks at his name, the way you utter it sounds so horrendous, because you aren’t meant to call him Bakugou, you’re meant to call him Katsuki, Katsu, Suki, your Suki. Not- “I hate you.”

The room suddenly spirals. The floor panels misalign themselves into zigzags. Bakugo’s eyes shatter like a glass window. He tries to hold himself against the tears that threaten to fall, stomach wrenching as if reaching from inside of his body, but it’s useless. He brings his hand up close to his chest and sinks his head, letting the words overtake him.

Oblivious to his internal struggle, you pile whatever courage you have left in another attempt to ask him to leave, aware that your body wouldn’t aid you in pushing him away physically, you open your mouth, only to gasp after a moment of silence when he pounces on you and grabs you by the neck, sliding a hand behind your head and leaning your face impossibly closer to his “you fuckin’ hate me? show me you hate me then,”

Then he's pressing his lips against yours, your half foggy mind all too surprised by the flow of motion you can only try to keep up with his feverish kisses, you try to pull away, to push him away, to no avail, Bakugou only stopping his assault on your lips to growl at them again “Show me then, hah?”

But he wouldn't even let you, his grasp on your neck loosening to circle around your back to push you to him even more. His kisses get more and more aggressive, trying his best to show you how much he was hurt by what you said, by what you did, after all this time, almost begging you to not let him have to voice out whatever he’s feeling because he would do so much of a worse job than he is doing now.

The hands you placed on his chest in a failed attempt to push him away are now just placed over his pecs, welcoming their warmth and the way they flex under your touch, your right hand clenching over where his thumping heart is, and he almost sighs in relief, the movement feeling like it holds together all the broken pieces of his heart to make it whole again.

Almost like that gesture calmed him down, Bakugou’s rough touches start to soften, very caring as they glide to your hips before sliding underneath your - oh my God it's your special edition Dynamight hoodie! His amused chuckle tickles your lips as he pulls away when he feels you stiffen at the realization, barely letting you breathe in ease until he places his lips against your ear. “Love how m’still the only one sprawled over yer tits.”

“But I still want the real thing, lemme see ‘em, hm?” And just before throwing a dumb retort and embarrasing yourself even further, the article is tugged eagerly off of your body and thrown haphazardly on the floor. Earning yourself a low whistle when he realises you’re wearing nothing underneath. Bakugou all but shoves you onto the bed, spreading your legs when you try to rub them against each other for any friction, wedging his body neatly between them as his teeth gently bite your soft buds, pulling them slightly before captivating the nipple entirely.

His tongue flicks against your hardening nipple while keeping a watchful eye at the sinful expressions your face makes, his one hand toying with and twisting the other nipple while the other slides down to tease your needy cunt, pressing his fingers against your -fucking soaked- panties, swearing under his breath at the feeling of your walls trying to clench around his fingers just from that one movement. Sitting on his haunches, he lifts your hips with ease to pull your panties right off, eyes travelling between your heaving chest and your exposed pussy. Before lowering himself and finding comfort in biting and sucking your nipples again.

Bakugou’s smirk grows with your moans as his tongue dances over your sensitive nipples, he presses his finger against your walls, and you immediately keen at the prodding feeling that almost feels foreign after all this time apart. His thumb pushing your pussy lip to the side to see you suck his finger in like the good girl he knew you always were.

“Ba-ba-ba,” you struggle to talk, your drool collecting at your lips, stopping you from forming any words as you feel a breeze hit your spit covered tits, whining at the feeling and wanting him to pull your nipples in the warm cavern of his mouth again. Bakugou’s eyes focus on the spit line connecting his bottom lip to your nipple before disconnecting it to smash his lips against yours in an effort to shut your blabbering up.

“Ba-ba, what? y’better not be callin’ me Bakugou with my fingers deep in yer pussy baby, its Katsuki for you, yeah?” he taunts with a fake pout that immediately turns into a grin at the way you hold your pathetic sobs, pressing another finger in your tight cunt, reveling in the wet sounds your pussy makes as he thrusts his fingers in and out of it, soaking his fingers in your slick as he curls them, eager to hear the squelching sounds it would make when his cock is shoved deep inside you. “Or better yet, lemme hear you say Suki, hmm?”

“Suki- p-please, eat me out” you throw your head back and bring your hands down to play with your clit, showing him where you want his lips to be, as if the blond doesn't already know where it is, and he scoffs at the thought, slapping your hand away and giving another slap to your clit, earning a moan from you from the sharp pleasurable pain.

“Yea, yea I fuckin’ know already, needy slut,” he growls, keeping eye contact as he circles your clit with his tongue before sloppily eating out your cunt, making a mess of both drool and your arousal, mumbling “my needy slut.” to himself, and you do hear it, yet you brush it off with the thought that your lust must be messing with your brain.

Your chest still flutters at his words and your walls clench in on his fingers as he curls them again in a way you didn’t know would make you yelp like it did. He thrives off of how your body responses so easily to him, your back arching and the squelching getting louder as his fingers pick up speed, his tongue so skillful in drawing circles around your clit before sucking it again. A whine escapes you when he draws his head away from you, only for you to see the way his eyes darkens, his chin glistening from your arousal when it catches the light.

“Let go for me princess,” he whispers uncharacteristically, making you question if the glint in his eyes is from his desire for you or something else. “Lemme see you fall apart for me, alright?” the way he’s almost begging you to come undone for him takes you by surprise, and your body curls in on itself so fast, not realizing your orgasm was creeping up on you until it hits you. The knot in your stomach breaks as you gush around his fingers, white crossing your vision as he slows his pace to help you come down from your high.

Your shuddering body lays on your bed, eyes unwavering as they meet Katsuki’s, his fingers stuffed in his mouth as he moans around them at your taste. It's all a blur after seeing that unravel, and you’re so woozy that you don’t register him discarding his clothes until he lays above you. Placing himself between your legs as he pumps his cock, hardened from seeing you fall apart on his tongue and fingers, his tip leaking precum and burning a bright red.

His movement is almost too quick for you as he dips his head into your leaking hole before pulling right back, a breathless chuckle escaping him when you whine and roll your hips and try to suck him in again, wanting to feel the stretch of him inside of you.

“Didja wanna say somethin’ princess?” he taunts you, one of his hands holding you down by your stomach while the other is wrapped around his length, teasing you in the ways that he knows drive you crazy, he leans in, using the tip of his cock to spread your pussy lips open and running it along your slit to coat it with your arousal.

“Katshu, p-please I-” you hiccup, your fists tightening on your bed sheet as you try to rock your hips up get more than just his leaking tip, but your begging is always interrupted when he isn't hearing what he wants you to say.

“Say you love me.”

You freeze at his demand, your widening eyes looking up at him before you pout your lips, not thinking about surrendering to him, no matter how much you want your cunt stuffed full of him right now.

“I don’love yooou-” you gasp as katsuki’s grip onto your waist tightens and you feel as he gives a thrust into your sopping cunt, arching your back at the burning stretch of being filled up by his thick cock. Katsuki’s hand traces down your left thigh before cupping behind your knee, hiking your leg up and out, close to your chest to expose more of yourself to him, wanting nothing more than to see his dick seething in and out of your tight pretty pussy, and by almost muscle memory, you did the same thing with your right leg, replacing his hands with your own, presenting yourself to him.

“Y’see that? Fuckin’ know you like the back of m’hand, y’think someones gonna- ah, take the fucking time to work you like I did?” he's right, absolutely right, he ruined you for any other potential lovers and he loved it with every fiber in his being, knowing this means you’re always going to be wrapped around his finger. You moan as he pushes more of himself into you, bottoming out and holding one of your tits and squeezing when he feels your walls do the same to his cock.

You hate it, after all this time, you’re still a blubbering mess the second he was one fucking inch deep in your pussy, sucking him in and clawing at his back begging for more. No self respect, no dignity, you hate it, how come after all this time he gets to come here and fuck you like you belong to him, like you’ve belonged to him despite everything that has happened.

You only realize that your eyes are closed when Katsuki’s breath hits your face, and you open them wide, noting how wet your lashes have gotten from your tears, only for him to kiss at the tears gliding along your right temple and licking the ones on your left. He breathes out a chuckle and when he leans to look at your eyes, the humor and menace you expect to see in his eyes are nowhere to be found, clouded by a solemn look instead.

“What? Yer cryin on me now, huh? Y’think a few tears are stoppin’ me?” His voice is masked so well, because he sounds like he was simply enjoying a game, like an imp that had branched from a demon. “C’mon, not gonna tell the birthday boy you love’em?”

“I don't love you, I hate you, h-hate you-” you keen as drool pools at your lips, your body betraying you as it shakes from pleasure, letting go of your legs to wrap them around his slim waist, to bring him in closer, if that was even possible, stopping his deep thrusts that were brushing up against your cervix, it feels pathetic, denying him the pleasure of telling him you love him while clinging onto him like he's your last breath of fresh air, because in a way, you feel like he is, like him leaving would just collapse your lungs and stop your heart from beating, you know that he’s gonna leave you. While your spent body would lay on your bed and you'd cry because you didn't tell him you love him, yet you wouldn’t ask him to stay, knowing deep down that you don't deserve it, you don't deserve him.

You feel his weight on top of you as he rests his elbows by your head, his lips brushing against your ear as he repeats again with every shallow thrust into your warm insides, his cock twitching from time to time in your walls. “You love me.” he says it once, twice, thrice. Every time his voice lowers more and more to a broken whisper, almost a plea instead of the cocky taunt he started off with.

Your legs are starting to ache from the grip they have around him, so you loosen up, your mind easy since his thrusts haven’t been rough nor painful. And when you do, you notice two things immediately, first, your thighs are so soaked from how he's making you feel, probably ruining your bedsheet at this point, second, he pushed his chest away from yours to look you directly in the eyes, one hand molding around your thigh to keep it from wrapping around him again while the other is placed on your stomach, his thumb inching closer and closer to your clit, wanting to toy with it, toy with you, but not ready to give you any satisfaction until you admit to him, please just tell him, that you do still love him. All insecurities, all battle scars, all emotional constipation as layers he covers himself with, that no one gives a fuck to peel off, to see who he really was, except you.

His red eyes lock onto yours as your chest heaves with breathless sobs at the lost of his warmth, and when you think he's lowering himself back down, he pulls out suddenly, sending a shiver down your spine as you gasp, now feeling like you're frozen over, your tears coming from lack of both pleasure and warmth.

Suddenly your face is met with the pillow and you feel his hands on your hips as he lifts them up and off the bed, your half intoxicated, half aroused mind barely registering that you’ve been flipped over on your stomach until you feel his cock prodding at your cunt, easily sliding in like they’ve been made to be warmed up in there, when you know Katsuki would argue that your pussy was made just for him and to warm his dick.

He presses his chest against your back, pushing you onto the bed as he thrusts his hips roughly, pulling out fully before seething himself right back in, your moans and whimpers muffled by your pillow from being pushed down by his hand as his other holds your hips firmly.

Then what happened next probably shocked him more than you, despite how delirious you’ve become due to his relentless thrusting, his dripping tears feel cool on your bare warm shoulder, one by one as his groans and moans turn into strangled sobs, before Katsuki digs his teeth into that shoulder, to both hear you scream and to muffle his cries from you.

“because I love you” he sobs, detaching his teeth from their grip and kissing the bite marks before resting his forehead against it, but his thrusts never cease, getting sloppier, as if the confession is pushing him off the edge. Dragging the tip of his nose from your bitten and bleeding shoulder to the back of your ear, his own face flush and warm against you as he breathes harshly against your ear and kisses along it.

“So-” he moans again, the hand behind your neck now turning your face so he could see your fucked out expression, the tears streaming down your face and the drool that pools under your cheeks, with your tongue lolled out and your eyes barely focusing on his form.

“You better say you do too, becau-”

“I love you.” you gush, like saying it is a breath of fresh air, your eyes never leaving his teary ones, your gaze so intense and fixated on him with no regards to the way the snapping of his hips against yours is shaking your entire body against the bed.

With new found vigor from your confession, Katsuki grabs onto the meat of your ass, hammering into you from behind with force that pushes you against the bed even further, your pulled hair jerking your head back so he can listen to the lewd noises you are making, long forgotten the will to cover your pleasure and hiding your moans.

Your ass heavily slaps against his thighs as he grabs your hips with both hands and pounds into your sopping wet cunt, relishing in the way you’re begging for him. “Y’like it when I fuck you baby, hmm? Like it when I stuff you so fuckin’ full of me?” He growls, feeling you push your ass back every time you repeat ‘yes’ to his questions. “Yes, yes love it, love you, please please don’t stop, please ‘Suki. Yes, gonna cum ‘Suki please” you weep, your head pounding from the grip he had on your hair and your eyes crossing as you feel his thrusts stutter, getting sloppier when you bounce your ass against him, his hand coming down and slapping it.

“That's fuckin’ right, cum on this cock, c’mon baby” he brings four of his fingers to rub your clit with urgency, and you can’t help but arch your back as your orgasm hits you again, screeching as you feel your walls tightening on him, squeezing him for what he’s worth. “F-fuck ah, y-you’re so- Fuck” his heavy weight falls on you as he fills you to the brim with his milky seed, forehead pressed against your shoulder as he rocks his hips against you, pushing more of his load inside before slowly pulling out, gaze flutters down to where your bodies were once joined, seeing your mixed arousal seeping out of your hole and he has half a mind to push it back in with his fingers.

But he flips you over effortlessly, the sight of your crossed out eyes and wet cheeks squeezing his chest at the realization he might’ve been too rough on you, so he wipes your cheek with the palm of his hands and revels in the way you lean towards him, turning your face to kiss his palm. “Say it again.” barely a whisper, as you flip his hand and kiss the back of it as well, and he almost repeats himself, thinking you didn’t hear him, but your hands reach up and cup his face, bringing him towards you. “I love you Katsuki” and goddamn if that wasn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever spoken. “Again,” “I love you, Katsuki” “Again,” you giggle, and he knows that's probably what angels sound like.

Your thumb brushes over his warm cheeks, red from showing vulnerability, and you pull him even closer, “Happy birthday, ‘Suki.”

“Yea,” He breaths out, his lips barely brushing against your bitten and bruised ones. “It really fuckin’ is.”

aaaaaaaaah! Hope you enjoyed it! Lemme know what you think of the smut, I also changed my writing style from past tenses to present tenses or tried to at least

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if you want to be tagged with for any of my fics let me know ♡

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eddiemunsonssoulmate · 3 years

Text

Let's make this moment worth the while

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You and JJ never liked each other. Kook vs Pogue. He annoys the shit out of you and yet you're trapped with him in the basement of the Cameron mansion.

Warnings: Smut, lowkey hate fuck

Available on: AO3

Part of: Passion lies in screams of ecstasytic dreams

This wasn’t something you had planned or expected.

Not at all.

He was standing in front of you, fuming with anger. His face had a hint of red, his jaw was locked tight and a strangled growl left his throat.

For a moment he looked almost feral there.

“Calm down, Maybank,” you said with an annoyed huffed, looking at the locked basement door above you. He acted like this was your fault when it was clearly his.

You could hear the music and voices from above.

A normal party at the Cameron mansion. Music, alcohol, drugs, Kooks and Pogues mingled together.

Just like in this small basement where Ward stored his wine. You had been here with Sarah a couple of times. You should have known she had planned something. The second you had entered the door to the mansion earlier, there had been this smug smile on her lips but she wouldn’t tell you why.

And now here you were with the boy you hated with a burning passion. You knew the Pogues and got along with them okay-ish. Pope was the best one to deal with, you knew Kiara for quite some time, John B was okay, he was Sarah’s boyfriend after all but JJ? No fucking way. He was crazy, reckless, infuriating and for some reason, really hot when he did stupid things.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he growled back at you after a long moment and turned around, going up the stairs to knock against the door once more.

You could swear the music just turned up just a little bit louder.

“Fuck!” he yelled, slamming against the door with his fist one more time before going back downstairs.

“No reason to get so angry, Pogue. They’ll need new wine eventually.” You leaned back against an almost empty shelf with a sigh, shaking your head. This was stupid and had been planned.

‘Oh y/n, can you get some more wine? The bottle is already empty. There’s the Romanee Conti 1945 somewhere in the right corner, that would be amazing.’

You could still hear Sarah’s voice in your head, it had sounded strange earlier, way too sweet, way too nice and now you knew why.

“Why did they send you down anyway?” You tilted your head a little to the side and looked at the boy who had sat down on the steps of the stairs, glowering at you.

“Red cups but I don’t see them anywhere here,” he grumbled from where he was sitting. His comment made you laugh, which only made him glare more at you.

If he would have been here before, he would know there wouldn’t be a single red cup around. Probably John B’s idea to make up this ridiculous excuse.

You kept your words to yourself and sat down, leaning your head back against the shelf.

Silence wrapped itself around you two and you held his stare for a moment before looking to the ground.

You didn’t even know why you hated him so much or why he hated you the same way. Nothing bad had happened between you two when you met for the first time, Sarah introducing you to the Pogues. She was your best friend and wanted you to get along with her new friend group, which you did...except JJ.

His vibes just didn’t fit with yours, you guessed. Two different people from completely different lives. It should have been a normal dislike, a normal ‘We don’t get along’ but for some reason you just needed to see him and you got angry. His stupid smirk, the way his hair fell into his hair after the rain had poured down, the way his jaw clenched when someone made him angry, the way his throat bobbed briefly when someone mentioned his father.

“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath, hating yourself for even noticing these little things about him. You didn’t even spend that much time together, barely knew anything about him and yet it felt like you already knew more than you wanted to know.

When you looked up you saw that he was still looking at you, leaning back on the stairs, his jaw still tight.

“What?” you snapped at him, not feeling comfortable with him staring at you the way he did.

“I’m just wondering,” he started and there was an edge in his voice that made you stand up the moment he did.

He walked toward you, coming to stop right in front of you, putting his hand on the shelf behind you, caging you in.

Your body tensed, you didn’t like this one bit. Men trying to get power over you was always a bad sign but you’d handle him. It was just Maybank after all.

“Wondering if this wasn’t your plan all along,” he finished his sentence, his face way too close to yours. You felt your cheeks redden a little bit, feeling the heat from his body.

You’d be a liar if you’d say he wasn’t attractive in his own, stupid way.

“Why would it be,” you hissed and put your hands on his chest, pushing him back a little, your jaw tightening when he stumbled back a little. “Do you think I enjoy being here with you in this small ass basement? Tourist girls might swoon over you and you think you’re the greatest around these parts but I’m not one of them.”

A smirk appeared on his lips and he took a step forward again, once again invading your personal space.

“At least they have a good time,” he said with a chuckle and you rolled your eyes, turning your head so you wouldn’t have to look at him.

You knew the stories about him. Picking up tourist girls, sometimes two at a time, spending the night together and then never seeing them again.

“Yeah that’s what they think because they’ve got nothing to compare,” you huffed out, arms folding over your chest. From the corner of your eye you saw his body going a little tense, knowing you’ve hit his ego with what you’ve just said.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about anyway,” he suddenly replied with a shrug. “Not like you know what’s down there.”

You couldn’t help yourself but look back at him, looking right at his stupid grin. Your look turned into a glare which only made him grin more.

“God, you’re really getting off at making me angry.” You threw your hands up in the air, wanting to go around him to slam your fist against the door yourself but he blocked your way.

“Let me through, Maybank,” you hissed in anger but he once again put his hands up on the shelf behind you, caging you with his full body.

“Maybe I do.” His voice wasn’t low and had something in it that you couldn’t quite place. “But I know you do too.”

He would not win this, not with this smug grin on his lips.

His body was pressing more against yours, his leg between yours, his face only inches away.

You couldn’t stop the heat that was starting to pool between your legs. Fuck. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction but the way he stood here, so close with no one else around, his heat radiating off his body, his face so close.

“You might be right,” you suddenly blurted out without thinking and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him into an aggressive kiss.

JJ gasped in surprise as if he didn’t expect to get this reaction out of you but answered to the kiss with the same aggression.

The kiss involved a lot of biting and nibbling, two people trying to dominate the other only to pull back for a breath at the same time.

His eyes had darkened, his lips were swollen but it only took him a moment to recover.

He put his hands under you, lifting you up against the shelf behind you, pressing your back into the old wood while you wrapped your legs around him.

What a fucking bastard.

Now this felt more like this was his plan after all but who were you to deny getting the sexual tension and hatred out for once.

You started to fumble between the two of you, trying to rid the both of you of your pants. His slipped down easily, just swim trunks and boxer shorts but you had at least tried to look good here.

He noticed your struggle and put you down for a moment so you could push your pants down, kicking them off. You were about to pull your knickers down too but he already hoisted you back up.

“What the fuck,” you whispered in surprise but your legs wrapped around him already.

“Might need to dress quickly if they decide to check on us. Wouldn’t want them to find us like this,” he growled against your lips and you huffed. He initiated this and now he didn’t want to be found like this? Bastard.

“Yeah, probably for the better,” you agreed and kissed him again, your lips almost hurting already from the vicious way you two attacked each other.

The blonde boy shifted a little, moved his hips while holding you tight and with a swift movement, he had moved your knickers aside and slipped inside of you.

You moaned into the kiss which he only took as an invite to push his tongue inside once again while he filled you to the brink.

The tourist gossip was no lie. He was indeed quite packing, you felt the sweet stretch, the balance between pain and pleasure. He wasn’t ripping you apart but you were also feeling quite a bit of filling.

You moved your arms up to hold up on the shelf behind you, the wood digging into your back when he started to thrust into you. It was as if he wanted you to feel how much he despised you, every push on his hips forceful and almost bruising but you didn’t mind. You wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

You could feel your tits swinging quite a bit, only dressed with a bikini and a small top above while he kept up his merciless pace.

For some reason you hadn’t thought about him having that much strength to hold you up and push inside of you with that much force.

Not that you had thought about him doing this to you before. Not at all.

A groan left your throat in frustration when you realized that you were too good at lying to yourself when it came to him. Another groan followed when he hoisted you up a little bit more, almost letting you fall back on his dick, hitting the sweet spot that made you see stars.

“Fuck, you feel better than expected,” he growled and leaned forward to kiss your neck, leaving small bites. Not biting hard enough to bruise but so that you would feel them for the time you were in here.

“You expected this?” you asked with a smug tone in your voice but your only answer was another deep, painful thrust inside of you that made your back arch forward.

He had anticipated this, thought about it like you did but he was very angry about it. Seems like you two were not so different when it came to that. Two sides of a coin, maybe.

His bruised lips kissed and nibbled across the soft skin on your neck and shoulder, his hardness tickling your insides the right way.

Your moans filled the small room, the air getting more heated and sticky but thankfully the music above was way louder than the two of you.

This would be your secret. No one needed to know this. You would go out of here later as if nothing had happened.

Your breath got short and irregular, it was feeling as if he was thrusting the air right out of your lungs with the pace he had picked. He clearly had experience doing this. You hated thinking about it.

One of your hands sneaked between the two of you, rubbing against the bundle of nerves, only driving you higher up, your mind fogging.

A growl left his throat when he noticed what you were doing and you could swear he was only forcing himself in harder, deeper and even faster. It was brutal and you were sure he would leave bruises over your body.

The way his hand gripped your hips hurt, the shelf pressing into you, his hips snapping against yours.

Your body started to twitch when you came closer and you were almost falling when you heard his voice. “Don’t you dare to finish before me.” It was almost a feral growl that spoke, not really sounding him like. He was out of breath, sweaty and almost desperate to spill his seed inside of you.

Normally you would have done it anyway, who was he to tell you what you had to do? But this time, you stopped listening to him. Something about his attitude towards you in this moment made you listen to him.

You hated it.

Then you moved your hand up to his face, the two fingers you had used to rub yourself running along his cheek before tapping it against his lips.

He glowered at you before opening his mouth, taking your fingers inside and swirling his tongue around them, licking your wetness off them without stopping to look at you.

You moaned at the obscenery in front of you and a low moan left your mouth. His body was twitching around you and you could start to feel yourself apart.

“Now come,” he whispered around your fingers, still licking them more tenderly than expected.

He pulled almost out completely, leaving you empty and whimpering for a moment before pushing back inside of you in one long, brutal movement, making you see stars as you fell apart around him.

You didn’t hear how a few bottles fell from the shelf, shatting beside you, all you could hear was a loud moan filling the room and you could feel yourself blushing when you realized it was yours.

He gasped and growled when he felt how your walls were clenching around him and soon enough you felt the hot cum spilling inside of you. It was warm and comfortable and you hated that you felt this way.

JJ leaned forward briefly, putting his forehead against yours before letting you back to the ground.

You almost fell forward, not able to stand, your legs shaking from the brutal abuse your body just had to deal with.

You’d be a liar if you didn’t say you loved every second of it.

“We made a mess,” you mumbled when you finally saw the broken bottles on the ground. Ward had stored so much expensive wine here, this would at least be 500 bucks or above. Not that you cared, you didn’t like this man. “We did, especially you,” he chuckled and you turned your head to glare at him but he was just pointing at his dick that was dripping with your wetness, following the drops of cum, sweat and your own juice down to the ground where you could also see a wet spot.

Your face turned crimson red from embarrassment and you looked away, trying to straighten your knickers only to realize that his cum would drip right into them when you kept them on now.

You shot him a glare and he seemed to know exactly what you meant because that smug grin was back on his lips, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I fucking hate you,” you groaned and picked up your pants, already feeling how his seed was dripping out of you and into the fabric of your panties.

“I know you do. Felt good though but then again, it never happened, right?” he asked with a shrug before putting his pants back on too.

Right when you two were dressed again and you were about to reply to him, the door opened and you saw Sarah and John B standing there.

“Oh there you are! I was looking for you!” Sarah said and walked down to you, wrapping you into a hug only to pull back and look at you with a knowing grin.

It was hard not to know. The small room smelled of sex, sweat and wine, your hair was a mess, your lips bruised. It took one look of someone with three brain cells to know what had happened here.

You glared at her. “I didn’t find the wine,” you said and she laughed, walking up the stairs with you.

“That’s fine, it seems like you’ve found something else,” your friend replied with a snicker and you groaned at her, shaking your head but couldn’t help but laugh.

#jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj imagine #jj maybank #obx imagine #obx #outer banks #obx netflix #outer banks netflix #smut #plisoed #this lowkey sucks but oh well hahaha

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peachyysugaa · 3 years

Text

scream

― youtuber!park sunghoon x streamer!gn!reader

it's hard to stream horror video games when your neighbor is always filming dangerous mukbangs and screaming.

genre: e2l, neighbors au, angst to fluff, humor

wc: 3.2k

warnings: horror game mentions, cw food and mentions of cooking live things (inspired by this youtuber), sunghoon's a jerk at first :<, one mention of underage drinking (don't follow mc's example pls fisnfkskf), a few swear words

part of my youtuber enhypen series, the last upload! feel free to read on its own! ♞──────────────────────────♞

"AAAGH!" and there it is. your brows furrow upon hearing your neighbor's cry. does he not understand how thin these walls are?! there's a reason only college students stay here! grimacing, you ignore it and move your mouse to look around the dark house.

"oh shoot, i wonder if he's behind me?" you say to your audience while watching your viewers fill the chat with your custom subscriber emojis. "i'm going to do it, everyone, just―"

"OHMYGODOHMYGOD WHYYY?!"

more like why couldn't you be quiet?! you close your eyes in frustration but attempt to keep a straight face for the people watching you. "sorry if you heard that, i guess someone's having a bad day?" you chuckle nervously as you turn around in the video game to see a black slender figure. "oh! whoa, okay, i'm just going to run over here."

you got out of the creepy house and made it to the back of it to see a piece of paper on the wall. "oh, here! okay, this is going to be my last piece unless―whoa!!" the jumpscare comes up, and you're left taken aback as the game over screen appears. laughing at your shocked self, you're filled with glee upon seeing the audience laugh or scream with you. "that was really fun, everyone. i got some homework to do though, so i'll see you all next time i stream! bye bye!" you wave goodbye to the camera and watch as the viewer number drops gradually. after a few minutes, you shut off your stream, place your headphones on its stand, and push back in your secret labs chair with a sigh. "why did i have to live next to a maniac...?" you grumble.

as if on cue, another scream is heard from the other side of the wall. "EEE! oh my god, i'm going to do it, i'm going to do it!"

what on earth was this kid doing that he was screaming every weekend? you didn't even scream that much, and you played horror games for a living! your stomach growls as you're thinking this and as a living human being, you listen to it and get up to make ramyeon. however, even as you're making your dinner and even as you're trying to enjoy it with some show playing on the tv, of course, you have to be subjected to your neighbor's loud yells. once you're finished, you notice how oddly quiet it is and decide to give whoever this guy was a piece of your mind.

marching over with your keys in hand, you knock aggressively on apartment no. 505 until it opens. behind the door is a tall male with a face so well-proportioned you're thinking it's possible that some being above sculpted it themselves. his nose is accented with one mole on the side of his nose bridge and another a few centimeters under the opposite eye. "can i help you?" his rich voice asks with a slight sting to it.

you snap yourself out of it by blinking, incredulous that you almost forgot your mission just because he has a handsome face. "yea, you can help me by being quieter," you boldly state with your arms crossed in front of your chest. "you realize you're not the only one living in this complex, right? the walls are so thin, i can hear you screaming every time."

the male raises an eyebrow at you and scoffs to the side as if he can't believe what he's hearing. "can you just deal with it? some of us have to make a living."

"news flash, dude, that's all of us! the only people who would be willing to live in this place are college students! listen, i stream horror games for my work, and i don't even scream as loud as you," you retort and point your index finger from you to him. "so i think you should learn how to keep your volume down."

"and why haven't i heard these complaints from anyone else?" he tries to debate back.

"maybe because they're just quietly tolerating you. as for me, i can't anymore, so take this as your first warning, room 505." you turn around quickly with a huff and speed to your apartment next door.

as you're above to close the door, you hear him shout back at you. "my name's park sunghoon, room 506. remember it, because i'm going to make your life a living hell."

"l/n y/n, park sunghoon. we'll see about that." with that, you both simultaneously shut your doors with a slam that causes the walls to shudder a bit.

oh, he kept his promise alright. from stare-downs in the hallway, to bringing weird live animals in the elevator at the same time you're in there, to snarky remarks at the entrance that almost always lead to fights, park sunghoon has definitely made your life hell. to make matters worse, his screaming got even louder. you're sure that's a violation of some rule, right? wrong, the management for the building doesn't care all too much, as long as he's not doing anything illegal and nobody else has complained. you get what you paid for is the right saying here.

you were not having it. as a streamer and college student, weekends are your days with the freest time, and he took that from you. you found out that he was not just a college student but a youtuber, one that filmed dangerous mukbangs with live animals that he would then cook and eat, and because of that, he had also chosen to film on weekends. that was exactly why you had always encountered his screaming on days you were streaming, and now, tired of how petty he was, you decided to just cram your weekdays with school and streaming.

at first, it was fine, but as your days became packed with more studying on the weekends at the library to avoid sunghoon, you grew tired: tired of the crammed weekdays and for god's sake, tired of living your life running away. taking out a bottle of peach soju that your upperclassman dancer friend had snuck for you, you pop it open and make your way to the balcony that you barely used.

as you take a swig of the alcoholic beverage, you prop yourself onto the railing and gaze at the buildings before you, their lights blinding you from the stars of the night sky. maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's your low energy state, but something compels you to scream. "i'm so tired!!" you yell out to the skyline. letting out a sigh, you plop down into the spare plastic chair and go for another drink.

"drinking your worries away? that's not going to solve anything," a male voice speaks up. your eyes catch sight of sunghoon, who has slid open his own balcony door. he's dressed in a casual beige hoodie and sweats as if he had spent the day just relaxing.

"as if you care," you mumble with your lips pressed against the green glass. "you're literally at the root of all my problems."

he scoffs at your statement. "this again? look, i'm getting tired of you placing all this blame on me when i'm—"

"are you so sure about that?" you calmly and sternly interrupt. the alcohol really has unlocked your usually inhibited thoughts. "why did i move my streaming days onto the weekdays when i normally spend them studying? because your screaming on the weekends always got picked up by my mic. why do i get 4 hours of sleep every day and study all night at the library on weekends?" it's like when sunghoon had taken a stick to prod at you, the floodgates burst open. you weren't stopping until you gave him a piece of your mind. "because i have to cram my streaming schedule and studying schedule to accommodate to your filming one. maybe i am blaming you, but i've tried my best to do my job all while studying and having to deal with an asshole like yourself who's so inconsiderate that he can't even do one thing for his neighbor who's practically dying to adjust their lifestyle because of someone else's."

your neighbor goes silent after that, choosing to just sigh and go back inside his apartment. you relish in the silence that comes after he shuts the door and down the rest of your bottle before heading back inside yourself. strangely after that incident, you heard less and less of sunghoon on the weekend and thus were able to return to your normal schedule. even while passing by him, he kept his mouth shut and would just nod a cordial hello. you guess what you said that night really got through to him.

and he proves that because after about three weekends, you hear a knock on your door. upon opening it, you're surprised to see sunghoon behind it, his hands behind his back as he shifts side to side. "oh, hello sunghoon," you greet him awkwardly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"hey y/n," he returns. the youtuber stops fidgeting for a moment and bows after gathering up some courage. "listen, i just want to say i'm sorry." he looks up at your face, searching for some sign of hatred and he thankfully finds none, so he continues. "i didn't realize how much of an asshole i was until you said that. i was just thinking about myself and not about you or anybody else. i hope i was able to prove it to you these past three weeks, and i promise i won't go back to my old habits."

your silence is not so reassuring, so sunghoon nervously lifts his head to peek at your face to find an astonished expression. you stammer a little bit and hold the doorframe to keep yourself in place. "u-uh... gosh, i don't know what to say, sunghoon," you stutter. then, you notice another neighbor exiting the elevator, looking at the two of you strangely since sunghoon is still lowering his head. "oh! you can stand up straight now! please."

he does as you say, smiling sheepishly, and you notice how much better he looks smiling than the usual smirks he had sent you before. "apology accepted, sunghoon."

"r-really?"

you nod. "i mean, you really have proven yourself lately, so i don't see why i shouldn't."

"great!" his smile grows wider, making you blush and look anywhere but his face. "then i have a surprise for you to start over." you shoot him a confused look that he disregards out of boyish excitement. "close up, come over to my place for a few."

"o-okay, give me a moment, i'll be right over," you say as he rushes back to his apartment. you hurriedly grab your keys and look in the mirror next to your door to smooth out your hair before you're scolding yourself for caring about looks when he literally just saw you. closing the door, you lock up, head over to room 505, and knock.

"it's open," his voice calls from inside, and with that, you push the door open to find the living space of your own apartment, except totally flipped. to your left is a small living room, complete with a two-seater couch, a tv stand, and a tv. whereas to your right, there was a dining room fit for two, the kitchen right behind it before a hallway leads to the single bedroom and bathroom. you're too busy taking in this opposite room that you don't notice the fish tank on the round table full of live fish. "come over here," he says with an enthusiastic grin.

"yah, park sunghoon. what in the world is this?" you say flabbergasted.

"i'm showing you what i do for a living and cooking you a fresh meal," is all he has to say as you grimace and reluctantly move towards him. "this is my second time cooking it, so it should go a lot better."

"and what exactly is... it?"

"mudfish, way less than what i usually have for mukbangs though." you know, you had completely forgotten what the guy did on youtube since his handsome face distracted you for a handful of moments, but now reality had set in for you: he was going to do this live in front of you.

if you're uncomfortable with cooking live fresh food, please skip to the next italicized line!

"i swear to god, park sunghoon, if you do anything stupid, consider this restart invalid. you'll be hearing from my lawyer," you unsuccessfully warn him as you watch him put on some gloves and grab a cup of salt.

"relax, you're with me. i'm practically a pro," he tries reassuring you, but then he sprinkles the salt inside the tank. the fish start splashing around violently, causing you to let out a small yelp as some splashes of water get on you. "yaaah, this is way better than last time!"

"is this what you do every weekend?!" you shout at a low volume and cover your eyes with your hands.

"you can look now, it's fine," sunghoon says, pointing at the fish. you peek through the gaps between your fingers to see that the fish have stopped moving. sunghoon smirks as you take your hands away from your face. "see? i'm a pro."

coating and deep frying starts here!

he starts to coat them one by one in egg and flour and lays them down on a baking pan lined with paper. you watch as he handles each one delicately with concentration. "do you want me to start the oil?" you offer.

"oh! that would be great, thanks! the wok is already on the stove, just turn it on," he explains. you find the wok exactly where he had told you and turn on the gas stove accordingly, as if you've been here hundreds of times before, but in reality, you just have the same appliances. by the time the oil has been heated to the right temperature, sunghoon has already finished coating the fish. the two of you work together to place each one in the oil, listening to them sizzle and pop.

"we make a good team," sunghoon comments once every fish has started frying. you take care of the tongs and move them around when appropriate. "you should come by and guest star in one of my videos."

"if it's anything like today's, no thank you," you politely reject.

"what if... i invite you to eat after i cook?" he shoots his shot again. rolling your eyes playfully, you see that the fish are all thoroughly fried and turn off the fire. with his own tongs, sunghoon puts the fish on the plate as you go off to prepare two bowls of rice. the small dining room table gets cleaned up, so the two of you can start your meal. "okay, your answer?"

"depends on how good this mudfish is," you reply, holding up a fried fish with your chopsticks. he follows suit, and you two cheer your meals together.

"i'll eat well," the both of you say in harmony. finally, you take a bite of the crispy fish and hum in satisfaction, your eyes widening.

"mm! it's really good!" you compliment as he takes joy in your pleased expression.

"i'll take that as a yes to my question then?"

"hoon, i'll come over whenever you want me to," you exaggerate.

"deal," he accepts quickly so that you can't take it back. and that's how your first meal went with park sunghoon. soon enough, one meal turned into two, to five, to ten, until you're basically spending a lot of time with the youtuber. pretty much every weekend, you and sunghoon set it up so that you would cook and eat together in the afternoon so that you would have the rest of the evening to stream.

at some point, you find out that his major is biology, which is similar to your own in biochemistry, so your time with sunghoon extends to studying together and eventually gaming. one of you is always at the other's place and vice versa like you couldn't be without each other for a single moment.

you're eating takoyaki with said boy in your apartment this time, staring at his well-proportioned facial features as you chew slowly and think. he catches your unwavering gaze and chuckles. "is there something on my face, y/n?"

"i'm just thinking," you vaguely reply.

"about the thing on my face?" you shake your head at this. "then what is it? i know i'm really handsome and all, but you literally see me all the time."

"that's exactly my point!" you cry out as if you hit eureka, shocking him in the process. "we're together all the time. we were literally enemies at first, and now it's like we're dating! what is this, some kind of shitty fanfiction?" yes

"well, do you want us to date?" luckily, you had just swallowed the last bit of your takoyaki ball because that could've made you choke. instead, you suddenly start coughing, and he pushes your water towards you.

the coldness of the water does nothing to help your rising temperature as you take big gulps of it. "wh-what kind of question is that?" you ask, patting your mouth dry with a nearby tissue.

"a serious one," he answers nonchalantly. "because i like you." stream dreamcatcher BEcause

"huh? since when?" you're practically in disbelief. no way sunghoon liked you back. you had just discovered your own feelings not too long ago when you had tucked him in after an intense study session and he whispered your name. ever since then, you got butterflies in your stomach around him, and not because he made it a mukbang. (but you wouldn't put it past him?)

the male rubs the back of his neck. "it's been a while. i just know that i like you."

"st-stop saying that!" you wave your hands in front of your face frantically to hide the redness you know that has spread all over.

"oh? or what, room 506?" he gets up from his seat across from you to prop his elbows on the table, getting a closer look at your cute, embarrassed appearance as he rests his head on his hands. "make me," he prods some more.

reminiscent of the first time you cooked together, you peeked through your fingers to witness his adorable grin waiting for you. as if wanting you to seal the deal, he closes his eyes and smiles with just his lips. you shyly reach out to grab his cheeks, taking a moment to brush the fringe out of his eyes so you can adore the moles that dotted his face, and slowly bring your own lips towards his to press them together in a kiss.

it's short but sweet, and soon you're pulling away and finding your fingers more interesting. sunghoon's eyes flutter open and fondly gazed at you. "be mine?" he speaks up.

"if you stop making my heart scream, then yeah," you mumble, stealing a glance at his smug smile. he laughs, stands up, and walks over to your side of the table. turning your chair around as if you weighed nothing, he places his hands on the table behind you, engaging you in between his long limbs.

"sweetheart, that's the whole point," he says, leaning down to chase your lips and kiss you until your heart can't take it anymore. you're both screaming on the inside as your hearts keep pounding in your chests, but at least this time it's from your pure feelings towards each other.

a/n: omg this is the last of captured on camera EEE thank you all so so much for being here with me on this journey of my first one-shot series <3 this really shows my growth as a writer, and i'm so glad i could share it with y'all! i hope you all look forward to my next one-shot series~

taglist: @cha-raena @imjustme-things @misoiishi @rikitaiyaki @fiantomartell

#enhypenwriters #enhypennetwork #enhypen x reader #enhypen sunghoon #park sunghoon #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon fanfiction #park sunghoon fluff #park sunghoon angst #park sunghoon imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #park sunghoon scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst

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