Tumgik
#but like fuck is he letting this shit happen again
gutsby · 2 days
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Ruined!
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Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.
Warnings: 18+. Peepaw brainrot + a dash of anorgasmia. Unprotected p-in-v, cockwarming, age gap, daddy kink.
Note: Finals are whooping my ass left & right. This is a quickie.
Word count: 1.2k | Part of the Waiting Game ‘verse
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Surely he was hurting you now.
Joel Miller had a kink for many, many fun activities, but splitting a sweet young thing like you over his cock to the point you were almost in tears was just not one of them.
At the same time your poor, surely-bruised walls pulsed around his hardened length, he felt a pang of guilt. His balls were pressed against your ass like two lead weights, soaked with the remains of your third release, and his mind was at war with itself—keep fucking you like this? Pull out and offer his sincerest apologies for not being able to cum? A boy your age would’ve never had you waiting around like that, aching around his cock, much less begging for something as simple as a cumshot.
He decided to go straight to the source. Leaning over your prone body on the bed before him, he was careful not to rut his hips or jostle his dick around too much.
Joel pressed a hot, stubbled kiss to your cheek, then:
“‘S’it too much, baby? She need a break, maybe?”
Joel thumbed at that space where your body ended and his began and nearly lost his mind to the pearly-white slick that had accumulated with time. Two hours time, he had to remind himself while you moaned and writhed and bucked your ass back. Your cunt was choking him.
Crying, too.
Your eyes flew open the moment his words reached you.
“You kiddin’ me, Miller?! I could do this shit all day.”
Sometimes Joel forgot you were only in your twenties. Really, the thought only occasionally crossed his mind in moments like these—or when your father, his best friend, happened to bring you up—but when it did, it hit him hard. You were young. Lively. Surely far too spry and full of life to be messing around with a man as old as him.
Joel’s guilt ran almost commensurate with his pleasure when he felt you anchor your feet on the bed and start to fuck yourself back and forth over his still-throbbing dick.
Almost.
He planted a hand beside your head and grinned. He let you fuck him. Felt you pull off, crawl up the bed a little, then beckon him back to your body, where your ass was now pointing up and your back was arched in invitation.
Almost.
“You know I can’t sleep without your cum inside me.”
And you made a point to spread your knees and look behind you with a smile as sweet as Milo’s tea, fingers drumming a beat against the bedspread in anticipation.
“You do wanna fill me up, don’t you, daddy?” you teased.
Yeah, no. The guilt was gone. Joel could worry about being a depraved old man when he was done cumming.
Then he was back inside you, driving his hips until every last inch of him was wrapped snug within your wet and velvety embrace, and he sighed. A real protracted one, like the kind he was liable to exhale after climbing two flights of stairs, or else just hoisting himself off the sofa. Or lifting you in his arms and fucking you hard against the hood of his Bronco. Any time. Any place. You were kind enough to oblige him with the best cardio of his life, so the least Joel could do now was make you cum again.
He snatched your hands up in one of his own and placed your wrists at the base of your spine. With his other, free set of fingers he took to rubbing your clit gently.
“SON OF A—”
“—good girl.”
You let out a bloodcurdling scream into your pillow and secretly hoped this man’s dick would never deflate again. Not with the way he was sawing his thing back and forth and dragging you to the edge, circling your clit like you were the single most precious thing in the world to him.
“Oh, sweet pea, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Like he could feel the tears staining the cushion himself.
“Mmrooonme,” you cried into it, voice garbled by cotton.
“What’s’at, honey? Can’t hear ya.”
Joel then bent at the waist, pretending to be leaning in to hear you better, when really he knew he’d be digging in your guts with that big, bulbous head of his and making you squeal again. Hands still held captive behind you, you inched your chin back on the pillow so your moans could be heard even louder while Joel sped up.
“You— ruined me,” you repeated. Now clear as ever.
Joel tried to hide his smile and glanced down between your body and his. Then, while his ring finger joined the other two to make their tight, light circles, he returned,
“Ruined? Pussy feels just fine t’me.”
You’d kill him if he wasn’t so good at this. You turned your head more to meet his eyes from the corner of yours.
“No. Ruined me. For anyone else.”
Probably forever.
“Good.”
You knew he liked it that way.
You saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. The hefty, broad, and greying Joel Miller had been loafing around on this earth long enough to know how to claim what was his. When his hips knocked yours to lay you flat on the bed, you already knew what was coming next.
First, his arms came to rest on either side of your body.
“Shit,” you whimpered.
Next, his lips went trailing down to your ear.
“Just a little more, sugar—that’s it,” he murmured while his hips sank in, and you felt that big, delicious stretch.
Then he released your hands so they were free to squeeze the sheets, and when they did, his moved over them—lacing his fingers through your own—and his lips pressed a kiss to your jaw. He held you in a tender grasp. His breath was hot on your neck, and the whole of his body was blanketing yours. Joel knew you liked it like that, which is why he made sure not to leave an inch of space in between. He was grunting, rutting, holding you close while his cock drilled a maddening pace inside you.
“You ruined me too, y’know,” he mumbled into your skin.
His nose was flush with the side of your cheek, nudging inward. Begging you to turn your head just a little more so he could kiss you. Weak as you were, you obliged.
And you moaned against that grey, stubbled chin of his when the thrusts above you had your cunt grinding the bed, rubbing that soft and helpless nub on the sheets.
“C’mon— let daddy have it,” he growled, “Let daddy have it and make it his, huh? That okay by you, baby?”
It was.
More than okay, as confirmed by the orgasm that tore through your body moments later while your teeth sank into the flesh of Joel’s lower lip and your cunt clenched and soaked over him whole. Joel wedged his tongue in your mouth and fucked you through it. His broad and callused hands were like iron around your own, holding you tight and keeping you still amidst a maelstrom of pleasure that combed over your every last nerve.
He licked into your mouth. Licked over it. Took the sick and distinct pleasure of knowing no one but him got to see you like this, with your jaw hanging slack and your eyes rolling back and your whines repeating quietly, ‘Daddydaddypleasedaddyfuckohfuckdontstop.’
Maybe ruined wasn’t such a bad thing to be at all.
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gglitch1dd · 3 days
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Anger and Misunderstandings Pt2 of 2
DILF Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader
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Context: An anon had asked me what if we had Angry Dilf Izuku but one of his kids disrespected reader, like what happened with angry Dilf Katsuki. Sorry for losing your question Anon.
[PART 1 OF 2] [Midoriya Izuku Masterlist]
This was a very interesting one to write considering the fact that Izuku grew up with basically a single mother and we’ve never seen him seriously punish the boys..
Note: Disrespect, previous arguments, angst, effects of bullying and feeling left out. Happy ending.
"YOU SAID WHAT TO MOM AND DAD?!"
Asahi winced as he sighed. He put his head in his hands. "I know."
"No I think you DON'T know." Toshinori emphasised as he stood in front of his younger brother, Kane at his side, standing as a mediator with his hands in his pockets. The blond teenager was also surprised by the events that Asahi had just expressed. Toshinori sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "And this is why we need to start beating kids again." Kane let out a humoured scoff. "And you've been here how long?"
They sat in their grandmother's apartment, Inko having gone out to buy groceries. Asahi lifted his head up to look at his brother. "A week." He revealed. "Mom came to pick me up Sunday night but I told Obaasan that I wanted to stay with her for longer so she told mom she'd look after me."
Toshinori nodded. "Okay, that might be the smartest thing you did in the past three months." He answered. Toshinori put his hands together. "Forgive me brother, but I have to be blunt with you." He warned as he took a step forward closer to his brother. He took off his slipper and raised it. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING!?" He swatted his brother in the head with his slipper.
"OW!" Asahi raised his arms to protect himself from his antics.
"WHO THE HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE TALKING TO!? YOU SWORE AT MOM!? ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?! AND HOW THE HELL COULD YOU SAY THAT TO DAD!! FOR THE SMARTEST KID I KNOW YOU SURE DO STUPID THINGS! YOU DUFUS!" Toshinori shouted as he swatted his brother with his slipper hard.
"OW! CAN YOU CUT IT OUT!"
"DID YOU CUT IT OUT WHEN MOM ASKED YOU TO!? NO!" Toshinori shouted back at him with a pointed look. "IF MOM AND DAD WON'T BEAT YOUR ASS, I'LL DO IT FOR THEM!"
"OW! THAT'S NOT FAIR! YOU HAVE ONE FOR ALL, YOU CAN KILL ME YOU KNOW!"
Toshinori scoffed as he slapped his brother on the back side of the head. "Mom and dad won't mind! They can always just make another son!" He shouted.
Kane let it happen for a few seconds, feeling that it was rightfully deserved. You were the closest thing to a mother to him, and so rightfully so, he thought Asahi deserved a good beating, but maybe that was the Bakugou in him talking. "Alright Toshinori. The little shit gets the drift." He stated putting a hand to Toshinori's shoulder.
Toshinori huffed as he stopped his assault on his brother, putting down his slipper and slipping it back onto his foot. Asahi carefully lowered his arms, seeing that he was in the clear. He put back on his glasses with a frown at having to undergo such assault
Toshinori scowled down at his brother in disappointment. "What possessed you to speak to mom that way?" He asked lowly. "She does nothing but give her everything for us. She devouts her entire life to her sons and here you are treating her like trash." Asahi looked down away from his brother swallowing down the heavy pill as he fought back tears. "And I don't think you understand just how goddamn lucky you are."
Asahi paused as he flicked his gaze up to his seventeen year old brother. His eyebrows furrowed. "What?"
"Asahi." Toshinori let out a breath. He tried to find the words for it. "I don't think you understand just how much dad loves mom." He tried to explain to his younger brother. "Now don't get me wrong, dad loves us to bits. He'd do anything for us. But dad is the terrifying ability to cut off all emotions when it comes to certain people and Uncle Kacchan and our grandfather were two of those people." He listed on two of his fingers, Kane nodding in agreement. "Dad arguably loves mom more than he loves us. Who can blame him? Dad has known mom for over two decades but he is just getting to know you and who you are becoming. Honestly, I expected a harsher punishment than just 'go stay at grandmas' but I think we both know that that's even more painful."
Asahi looked away from Toshinori not wanting to aknowledge it. Half of Asahi wished that you and his father had just done something, anything else, but send him away was another sort of pain he wasn't sure how to digest. That his dad couldn't bring himself to be around him for a day because of the things he said, it was a terrifying realisation.
Toshinori sighed as his shoulders dropped. "Now tell me why on earth did you disrespect mom." His younger brother didn't answer immediately. "Boy, I will pick up my slipper and-"
"Because it's not fair!" Asahi burst out.
Kane's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Huh, it worked." He let out surprised.
Toshinori's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What's not fair?"
"Life!" He shouted. "Do you know how it's like to be the youngest kid in your grade and be quirkless? People think I'm some weirdo at school!" He motioned to the side. "Kids don't want to be my friends and if they do, it's because I'm the Number One hero's son not because I'm me!" He motioned to himself as fat Midoriya tears fell from his eyes. "I hate it! I can never fit in no matter how hard I try! And it doesn't help that mom and dad are so fixated on you!"
His older brother raised his green eyebrows up in confusion. "On me?"
"Of course you!" Asahi shouted. "You're the eldest son of the Number One hero of Japan! You have dad's quirk! You are constantly praised and upheld as this miracle child and you're so much like dad it leaves me (and I'm not sure about the others) in your shadow!"
Toshinori paused before letting out a chuckle at how rich this was. he put a hand to his face. Asahi paused as he looked up at his brother in shock that he was laughing at him. "Oh you must be kidding, Asahi. I'm the eldest! I'm the experiment child! You don't want to be me."
"Of course I'd want to be you!"
"NO!" Toshinori now adamently denied with a pointed look. "No you don't. Asahi..." He took a moment chuckling to himself, deciding to be transparent here. "I don't think you understand, I have nothing, absolutely nothing other than One for All." He stressed, his face falling of all humour. "You think you want to be me? My entire existence was based off the fact that I was expected to take dad's place as the Number One hero. I'm lucky that I wanted to be a hero but that's also because I've got nothing! I'm not smart enough to get into a good university degree, I'm not passionate enough about anything else to work at it to be good enough to earn a living for myself. All I have is this passed on quirk and the entire legacy of our father resting on my shoulders."
Asahi froze as he looked at his older brother. Toshinori looked at him with glossy eyes but he didn't shed a tear, he just frowned as he looked at Asahi. Kane took a step forward and put a hand to Toshinori's shoulder.
It snapped the other teen out of his daze as he sniffed and straightened up his posture, he put a smile to his face, hiding whatever baggage he held over his head.
"But you..." He motioned over to Asahi. "Man, you should hear the way mom and dad talk about you. The way they praise you. Dad had to spend hours talking to deans in universities around this country to give you a shot and prove how smart you were and that he wasn't just trying to use his name to get you special privileges. Mom always tells her friends about how one day you're gonna do something extraordinary." Toshinori was being honest with his younger brother. "You are more like dad than I could ever be. If he had never been a hero, he probably would have been just like you. So smart and talented without needing to be a hero to prove his worth, which is what he hopes for you."
Toshinori let out a shaky breath as he chuckled.
"So how about you get off your sorry butt and we head back home and you apologise, hm? I'm sure mom would make a good katsudon too! Hopefully dad wouldn't eat it all by the time we-"
Toshinori stopped talking as he looked down at his younger brother who had his arms wrapped around him. Asahi had ditched his glasses and had buried his face in his chest. "Thanks Toshi." He let out lowly.
Toshinori scoffed with a roll of his eyes. "Okay, okay, no need to turn into a sappy piece of brocolli. I didn't do anything."
"He really didn't. He beat you more than he did anything productive." Kane expressed.
Toshinori glared at his best friend. "And why are you even here?"
Kane shrugged. "Just had to make sure you didn't kill your brother. As your mothers favourite son, I can't sit back and let that happen."
"Are you, as a Bakugou, really telling me that your my mom's favourite?"
Kane ignored ignored Toshinori as he looked down at Asahi. His crimson eyes were gentle despite the fact that he always seemed rather monotonous in expression. "Asahi, let me give you a piece of advice." He started. "As someone without a mother and a present father, you are very lucky." He expressed. "Truly. Don't take that for granted."
Toshinori and Asahi glanced at each other before looking at Kane. "Kane, do you need therapy or something?" Toshinori asked. "Like seriously, are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"Are you sure? Because I swear I've never seen you smile in more than three years."
"CAN WE FOCUS ON THE REASON WHY WE ARE HERE PLEASE?!"
You sat outside reading a book as Koda and Shoyo tried feeding the bunnies. Your two youngest sons, five and seven, were hand in hand as Shoyo tried to teach his younger brother how to do it. Your husband held you back against him as the both of you sat in the hanging cushioned seat. His eyes were closed as he held you against his chest, quiet.
You turned to look up at him, hickeys littered his neck. You kissed his jaw making his green eyes fluttered open. He looked down at you before giving you a gentle smile. He let out a hum as he tightened his arms around you and kissed your neck.
You ran a hand through his curls with a chuckle. "Tired, Mr Midoriya?" You asked him amusedly.
"Only if you go back upstairs with me." He gave the condition that made you giggle.
You gave him a look with a raised eyebrow. "Please." You let out in disbelief. "We have spent more than enough time in the bedroom today." You reminded him.
"Not nearly enough, in my opinion." You felt his lips move down to your own. You couldn't help but smile at the kiss, glad he was having a good time this fine evening as the sun began to set. You kissed him back.
"Mom! Dad!" You both turned to see Hero standing at the sliding door. "Look who's here!"
Stepping from behind Hero was your eldest son as well as his best friend. You smiled. "Toshinori! Kane! Hello boys." You waved at the two of them, not having seen them in person in the past few weeks. However, peaking out from behind was Asahi. Your eyebrows raised in surprise, not having heard from Inko to come and pick him up.
"HI MOM!" Toshinori waved over to you as he came down the steps of the patio to the garden. He walked over to you and bent down to kiss your head. "Evening dad."
"Hey kiddo." Izuku smiled, giving his son a fist bump. "How's school?"
"Fine. Uncle Shinso says hi by the way. Also, what's on your neck?" Toshinori's eyes went into a glare aimed at his father.
You giggled as you turned your attention to Kane. Kane stopped not too far away but his crimson eyes were on you. "Hello Kane." You stood up from where you were seated on top of Izuku.
"Evening, Aunty Y/N." He greeted you with a gentle smile.
You walked up to the now tall boy. Just like Toshinori, he was now taller than you and much bigger too. You put your hands to cup his face making him visibly ease. "Look at you, you're so tall now. How's training been?"
His gaze softened as he eased into your touch. "Just fine." He told you gently. The blond boy was like a son to you and you smiled, happy to know you could support him.
"Can you help me by bringing Shoyo and Koda inside? It's getting dark."
He nodded his head. "Of course, anything for you." He answered honestly, moving to go fetch your two youngest.
You smiled before turning to head back inside, ignoring Toshinori and Izuku's bickering about how much touch was too much, regarding you. You entered your house as you walked to the kitchen. You checked on dinner that was in the two ovens. The smell of lasagne wafted through your kitchen making you smile.
"Mom..." You paused as you turned around to where Asahi was. Fourteen year old son stood by the island counter, his eyes downcasted as he refused to look at you. You noticed that his hands were shaking as he stopped, keeping his distance away from you. "Mom I'm... I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean- I mean I did mean but I didn't intend to hurt you. I just... I hate school and it's been so rough for me and then there's you and dad and Toshinori and it's all just-"
This was the first time you saw your son so emotional. Sometime before the age of eight, Asahi turned rather analytical and fact based. You knew it was just his personality and whenever he did need to talk, he would come to you and talk, but now... now here he was, tears falling from his eyes as he tried to apologise to you.
"And I know dad won't forgive me and I don't blame him but please... please don't give up on me." He finished, closing his eyes.
You gave him a sad smile as you put down your oven mitts and walked over to your second eldest son. You carefully cupped his face in your hands making his eyes open to look at you. You wiped his big tears from his face as you looked down at him. "Asahi, if there's one thing about your father that I know, is that he has a very big heart. Families fight and argue, me and your father do it to, but if there's one things we don't do, is give up on each other. Sometimes we need space but we'll come back stronger. So it's okay." You whispered as you smiled down at him. You saw him try to fight back a sob but you just took off his glasses and pulled him into a hug. You pat his back the same way you used to when he was a baby and that was when the flood gates opened.
You silently chuckled. Midoriya's and their tears.
"Dad."
Izuku was still outside when everyone had gone inside to set the table and get ready for dinner. Izuku turned to look at Asahi. He turned back forward to look at the dark garden. The bunnies hopped into their rabbit house safe from the fears of outside. Angelica-Nina's daughter, just as fiesty as her mom, sat in his lap, her dark black ears with white tips were laying against her back as she loafed herself on Izuku's lap.
Asahi took a deep breath as he walked over to where his father sat on the steps of the patio. "Dad I..." He wasn't even sure where to start. His father's presence had never felt so imposing like now. He swallowed down hard, mustering up the courage. "I know I disappointed you and I'm sorry. What I did and said to you and mom was horrible. I just... it's been so hard at school. I don't have any friends there and I guess trying to fit in made me forget my values. I know that's not an excuse and I'm sorry. I really am. I... I can understand if you're angry at me and if you'd want me to continue staying at Obaasan's place, and Toshinori said I should prepare for a slipper to the head from you as well and-"
"Asahi." The sound of his name from his father made him stop.
Izuku motioned down next to him, tapping the space next to him. Asahi silently listened as he walked over to his father slowly. He sat down beside him. Izuku looked up at the sky and the few stars that sprinkled the sky since they were so close to the city.
Izuku drew in a breath. "I remember many years ago, when I was actually your age, I made my mother cry. And not out of worry or happiness." He revealed. Asahi stared up at him with wide eyes. "All my life until high school, I was quirkless. I was treated below the rejects and I had no friends in school after the age of seven. When I was fourteen a new phone had just came out that I wanted because everyone else was getting it.
The bullying seemed to only get worse considering the fact that I was not as well off as the other kids. So I asked your grandma if I could get that new phone. She said no, because we didn't have the money for it. She was a single mother that had to provide for her and her son. I got angry, mostly due to the fear of being left out. I shouted at her and screamed about how I just wanted to be like the other kids. I will never forget the look on my mother's face when I stopped speaking."
Asahi looked up at his dad seeing something in his eyes he rarely saw. Regret and anger turned at himself. Izuku was always close with his mother so the thought of him actually shouting at her seemed something so out of character of him. "Then... then what happened."
Izuku sighed. "She got me that phone a month later, at the expense of her own self of course." He revealed. "However, I found the receipt and returned it the very next day untouched. It wasn't worth the pain of the one person who loved me." Izuku turned to Asahi, looking down at his son with a gentle smile. "I get it, and I'm sorry that you have to go through that Asahi." He put a hand to his son's back. "I'm sorry that you've been feeling so lonely, but the way you spoke to me and your mother was not okay. You understand that?"
"Yes."
"Good. That's all we've got to sort out. Your mother and I will put you in a new school if you really want." Asahi's eyes widened in surprise. "You're a smart kid so the time you're out of school you can catch up in no time."
Taking Izuku by surprise, his fourteen year old son hugged him. "Dad." Asahi let out muffled. "You're a good dad."
It took Izuku a moment but his gaze softened as he put his arm around Asahi and squeezed. "Thank you."
-Glitch1d
*pushes away the Midoriya family adopting Kane one-shot to the back*
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1-800-kami · 1 day
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late | satoru gojo drabble
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satoru who falls in love with you, a non-sorcerer. when you finally confess to him about how you feel, he realizes that the feeling of love is mutual.
he’s supposed to feel ecstatic, but he can’t find it in him to feel that way. instead, he feels nothing but dread.
he feels dread because before he knows it, he freezes up and rejects your confession. “i’m sorry, y/n. i just don’t feel the same way.”
god, he was such a shit-faced liar.
his words weren’t true at all. satoru has never wanted someone so badly in his life, but he knows that things’ll be better off this way. satoru knows that you’ll be safer if you don’t associate with him anymore. after all, with the rising number of curses in japan, it’ll only be a matter of time before you’ll be used as a target. and what if he can’t be there to protect you? satoru doesn’t even want to think about what could possibly happen to you then.
he thinks back to riko and frowns. he can’t let that happen again. he promised himself he’d never let something like that happen ever again.
at first, he thinks that rejecting you was the best move he had to make, all for your safety… but satoru has never felt stupider in his life.
because as the months pass by without you in his life anymore, he slowly realizes.
“…i’m the strongest alive, so why am i letting this interfere with who i want to be with? i love y/n, and i’ll kill any damn curse that even thinks of laying a hand on her. so why should i let this stop me from being with who i love?”
before he’s even realized it, he’s teleported to your place. he just needs to talk to you. he needs a few minutes to just explain everything.
except… satoru’s a few months too late.
he sees you. you’re as beautiful as ever, and you’re leaving your house… but you’re not alone. you’re with another man, and you look at him with nothing but love and adoration as you leave to go on a date with him.
that man could’ve been him.
still, satoru won’t interfere anymore. it seems that this is life’s cruel message that’s been sent to him. you’ve moved on, and he thinks that maybe, just maybe, it’s better for things to end like this after all.
but fuck, satoru still can’t help but feel hurt in the end.
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codtrashsammy · 2 days
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Cute Meet?
Started as a kinda character study and idk what happened, i'ma be honest. I haven't written anything with length in awhile, so feel free to leave cc and let me know what you think <3 Just a cute meet kinda scenario, reader is an anxious lil thing and Simon 'Ghost' Riley is obsessed upon first glance. Love? No, not yet.. but obsessed, yes. Word Count: 1.3K Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You Warnings: No warnings, no use of y/n tho Enjoy :))
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Ghost is the keeper. Ghost is stoic, cold, even apathetic. Ghost can kill a whole platoon without batting an eye, can be covered in the blood of his enemies and be entirely uncaring to watch it flow down the drain once he has enough time to scrub the caked blood from where it seeped through his clothes. He is in charge, able to control his emotions effortlessly, able to lead. He is everything he needs to be. And then there’s Simon. Ghost is the keeper. Simon is the man beneath the mask who needs one. Simon is more akin to a stray dog than a human at times. Face hidden from the world, yet teeth always barred and ready to bite. Hidden behind a mask, a carefully crafted mask that is Ghost. A man with more scars than flesh, a man with more trauma than peace, a man who simply longs for the normalcy of life without a way to reach it. And then came you.
Ghost couldn’t care less for you. The mask is on as he’s on leave, shopping in a grocery store to get something to eat on while he stays in that damned motel for the next couple of weeks before flying out once more. The mask stays in place, a protection, a show the keeper is in charge. You don’t mean to run into him, you’re definitely not the type to go looking for trouble- you’ve had enough of that in your life, and you’re just starting to get your shit together for the nth time. But as you’re both leaving, you stumble, bumping right into him and leaving a couple of his poor bags strewn about on the sidewalk rather than carefully held within each hand. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Ghost grumbles with a sigh, clearly not pleased by the circumstances while watching a can of beans he had bought simply roll off of the sidewalk area and into the road- promptly ran over by a vehicle looking to park. No beans and toast now, british man. “I am so sorry-” You immediately apologize, the sheepish and embarrassed look on your face obvious as you dust yourself off and try to begin gathering the mess that you had caused. Ghost is annoyed at you. Just one look and he’s annoyed. But Simon? Simon is enchanted. The sweet, sheepish smile on your face, the way you scramble to help, the heat to your cheeks in your embarrassment as you scatter around trying to fix the situation. The way your hair falls and how you’re clearly nervous, but you still act anyway. You don’t care of how he looks- all brooding and intimidating with his hoodie over his head and the black medical mask over the lower half of his face. You couldn’t care less of that- you simply want to make things better. Simon notices that though. Simon remains frozen for a few moments, hidden interest in his eyes as he watches you scramble about, resorting your things just to have an extra couple of bags for his things. And you just hand things back over to him, the sheepish smile still on your face, the embarrassment clear- but gods, you look like such a sweet lil thing, lookin’ at him like he’s a human, a person. “‘S fine,” Simon eventually spits out, taking the bags from your hands and glancing once more at the beans staining the roadway now, before turning to focus his attention back on you. He could let you leave now. He could, it’d be so easy. He could leave it at that and walk away, probably never hear or see from you again. I mean, hell, he’s only known you for all of 5 minutes, and it’s because you’re a clumsy little shit who fucked up his shopping. It’d be so easy so why does it feel so hard. “D’ya always ‘ave to make such an impression?” Simon quips out, readjusting the bags comfortably in his grip. You can’t even pretend not to notice his accent- it’s unusual for where you live, you don’t think you’ve ever heard anything like it outside of the media you’ve consumed. It’s pleasant, rings around in the ears for a bit. You finally meet his eyes, and gods, they are gorgeous. Deep, rich, brown- like chocolate with golden flecks scattered. Especially in the sunlight- like they are now- pools of liquid gold swimming about a chocolate river. “Ah- No- Um-” You struggle to find the right words, now your cheeks are warmer, and it’s less from embarrassment and more from the pretty eyed stranger you just fucking throttled on accident. But at least he doesn’t seem angry, so there’s always that. “I’m so sorry,” You settle on apologizing again, one of your hands moving to nervously run through your hair, pushing some strands out of your face. “‘S fine. Really.” Simon says with a slight nod, and you can feel the burn of his eyes as they trail over you. You can’t decide if he means it or not, though, he sounds oddly monotone for such simple words. “Still, I feel bad, I uh- I’m kinda clumsy at best,” You blurt out, sheepish smile on your face despite its softness as you glance away from him before looking back once more, “I uh- just wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going- a real bad habit of mine, honestly- which is surprising cause you’re kinda huge and hard to miss-” 
What the fuck did you just say?!Your cheeks heat up further, hands moving to gesture with your words now. You’re rambling, you know you are, but god did not give you the ability to shut the fuck up. “N-Not that that’s a bad thing! You’re uh- very well-built!” what the fuck you’re making it worse- “I-I mean- You uh- You have lots of muscle a-and that’s a good thing! And you have pretty eyes- always a bonus!” Simon’s eyebrow slowly lifts, his eyes crinkling at the sides. Simon’s been called a lot of things in his life- but he’s realizing at this moment that no one has ever called his eyes pretty. They’re brown. He can recall Johnny referring to them as ‘shit brown’ more often than not.  And you just look so fucking adorable- continuing to ramble, but he’s hardly paying attention to the words now, watching your cheeks get darker, your hands gesturing with your words, nervously shifting on your feet as you try to ‘save’ the situation. Such a precious lil thing, too pure for this world.
Simon was enchanted at first glance.
Ghost decides he could be, too.
A pretty thing like you? In this world? Oh, love, that’s just not safe. You’re a lil bundle of nervous, clearly. How’d ya make it this far? Who made ya like this? Unsure, rambling, nervous? Ghost wants to learn you. Wants to figure out what events molded you into this cute lil thing. You clearly need someone- he won’t judge, Simon needs him, too.
Ghost decides he wants to know you. Simon has made that thought known.
“You know what? I’m gonna shut up!” You finally say, voice a higher pitch and the heat being felt in the tips of your ears at this point as you take a step away from the masked man, who you know you’ve done ruined the chance to know with your inability to shut the fuck up.
“Tell me yer name before ya do,” Simon says, voice smooth like it’s the easiest and most casual thing in the world.
He’s so… quiet. He let you ramble and make an absolute fool of yourself- but now he’s actually wanting to know your name?
After you manage to knock yourself out of your stupor, you finally offer your name to him, cheeks finally cooling down a bit. Only to heat back up once he repeats your name in that voice of his, all low and gruff- says it differently than anything you’ve ever heard before- like it’s something important, something that matters.
“Simon,” He supplies, adjusting his bags in one grip as he offers a hand to you.
Simon and Ghost are two very different people who share this skin suit.
But they both decide you’re theirs.
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yuwuta · 2 days
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hi 👋 bsf upstaging bf with choso???
ok i’ve gotten asks for pretty much every other jjk boy on this subject and i want to say something as an overarching theme: all of them ain’t shit. not a single one of them. there’s a scale, some (gojo) are worse than others, but in general, none of them really give a fuck, if that means upstaging, sabotaging, or straight up kicking your boyfriend to the curb so that they can be your boyfriend instead then so be it. but they’re not shit, NONE OF THEM!! but there is a hierarchy and different methods of execution and all that, so here’s where they stand 
president and ceo of not being shit: satoru gojo
why would satoru care about your boyfriend? in any and all universes, he is raised in a world where consequences mean nothing to him. so what if he’s a little rude to this guy? so what if he buys you a ridiculously expensive birthday gift that might be seen as romantic? so what if he offers to take you on a vacation that happens to overlap with your boyfriend’s birthday? the worst that will happen to satoru is nothing; the world bends to his whims, never the other way around.
it’s a combination of complete self-confidence + trust in you + getting joy out of bothering people that earns him this number one spot. he’s confident in every sense of the word, so he doesn’t see your boyfriend as a threat. even if satoru didn’t love you romantically, he wouldn’t see a boyfriend as a threat to your friendship either, because he has no doubts in himself—and to the second point, he doesn’t have any in you either: you’ve proven your loyalty to satoru, proven that even when he pisses you off, you still love him, even when you’re dating somebody else, you still make time for him, even when he’s being shitty and stubborn, you don’t kick him to the curb, you just pinch his ear and bring him back down to earth. he’s always chosen you, but you’ve always chosen him, too, so again, what’s to fear when a boyfriend is added to the equation? nothing, because satoru knows this guy can’t earn or replace the loyalty you’ve given him. 
and to top it all off, he likes watching your bf grind his teeth. he likes watching this guy have to hold his breath, because what can he say without sounding like an ass—he won’t ask you to tell satoru to fuck off because he hasn’t done anything wrong. treating your best friend to fancy dinners and exotic getaways and designer clothes is just nice when you have money—your bf would be pretty shitty to deny you that. and he’d sound insecure, too. and satoru knows your bf doesn’t have the balls to confront him, and even if he did he’d lose. it’d be embarrassing. so, satoru wins. he always wins. satoru engages in psychological warfare, and he has the physical strength, social power, and financial security to back it up, so he, literally, can never lose. and, sure, having your bf around is annoying, but it’s so much fun to watch other people lose that he lets the guy stick around for a while. you’ll get tired of him and run back to satoru eventually, and he’ll confess this time… hopefully.
vice president: kento nanami
if you expected kento to be lower on this list, think again, because he is just as bad. he’s only second place because he’s not as overt, nor does he wish to actually taunt your boyfriend like satoru would. for kento, you’re just his number one priority. you always have been, ever since you came into his life; it was confusing at first, for him to care so much about you beyond an objective sense of responsibility, but overtime he came to realize that he way he wants to take care of you is different. he doesn’t just want to ensure your comfort and safety physically, he wants to make sure you’re taken care of emotionally, he wants to bear your burdens for you, not just help you through them.
kento is a good friend, a trusted confidant, a reliable person overall, and over the years, he’s inadvertently raised your standards. casual situationships and relationships where you’re not the priority become unappealing when you’ve had someone by your side for so long who’s treated you better than that. if your best friend can buy you flowers, and make reservations at new restaurants, and drive an hour to pick you up in the rain, and cook for you when you’re feeling sick, then why would you tolerate anything less in a romantic partner? these things are the bare minimum to kento, but most other men fall far below average; it’s hard for them to compete where they cannot compare. 
so when you do accept a partner, kento is skeptical at best. he knows that what he does for the people in his life isn’t necessarily special, but he doubts that your boyfriend is capable of doing even that—and even if he does meet the standards, he’ll be outclassed anyway. because kento is a good person, but he’ gotten really good at how to be good to you. your boyfriend might get you flowers, but kento already knows your favorites. your boyfriend might send chocolates, but he doesn’t know which ones you’re allergic to, and the brand you prefer; kento does, which is why the ones he bought for you are gone within the week, and the generic box sent over by your boyfriend was re-gifted to satoru. when you voice your doubts about a date your boyfriend mentioned wanting to plan, kento feigns interest, and then innocence when he asks if you’re busy a few days later, if you’d like to help him bake something instead—something he knows you’d much rather do. the short version is—kento knows you, and he uses it to his advantage. he uses the knowledge gained during your friendship to outclass anybody in your dating pool, and he does it so smoothly that it hardly seems intentional or harmful, but it is. which is why he’s just as bad, if not worse, than satoru. 
treasurer: megumi fushiguro 
there’s actually no au in which megumi isn’t shit because no matter how you square it, he gets it from his daddy. whether he’s raised by just satoru, just toji, or some au where he has them both in his life—the common denominator is that they’re there. if megumi ever did confide in either of them about hating your boyfriend, both satoru and toji would offer the same advice: “can’t you just get rid of him? what’s he got on you?” which is absolutely not how you should parent a child...
megumi might have his doubts about his personality, but he’s never been insecure about his appearance. it’s hard to be when he looks like that, but also when he’s had either toji or satoru (or god forbid, both) in his ear his entire life. he might have some fucked up attachment issues and skepticisms about the general population, but he has a very secure view of himself. so, to start, he’s not impressed by your boyfriend, and is honestly a little offended that you think this guy is objectively more attractive, or that you’re more romantically/sexually attracted to him that you are to megumi—or even, any of your other friends. he’d rather you start dating nobara or yuuji, at least he could live with that because those are pretty people, but your choice in boyfriends… he’s not trying to be mean but you could do better. you’ve done better. 
secondly, megumi…. doesn’t care about him. at all. he’s not like satoru in that it brings him happiness to tease your boyfriend, he’s not like kento in that he skews your standards in his favor to nudge your boyfriend out of the picture; megumi literally does not care if this guy lives or dies. your boyfriend could drop dead and megumi would be like damn… that’s crazy… and move on with his life. which is a wild view to have of your best friend’s partner; and it also drives said partner to madness because why the fuck won’t your childhood friend acknowledge his existence?? but again, megumi doesn’t care that his apathy towards your boyfriend bothers him—megumi doesn’t see him, doesn’t know him, doesn’t care to know him, and it drives a wedge in your relationship. 
thirdly, megumi is, canonically, a bully to people he doesn’t like. if your boyfriend gets angered enough to the point of confronting megumi, or whining to you, then it’s inconsequential to megumi to hurt him, and he won’t hold back. also on the reverse side, if there was a situation in which your boyfriend was getting hurt or needed help, then megumi is not helping. he’d probably just watch, or join in. 
after a while, megumi grows past apathy into exhaustion. he thinks you should do better, he thinks you should know better, he thinks he’s better. and he is. he’ll show you that. (also, he is most likely to try to seduce you into infidelity because he doesn’t care about your boyfriend, so you’re single to him). 
first secretary of not giving a fuck: yuuji itadori 
jealousy is something that yuuji used to feel guilty about, guilty enough to drive him to confiding in satoru/nanami about his feelings and seeking advice for how to deal with it, because he thought being jealous meant that he was being a bad friend to you. but neither of his mentors are shit, so yuuji learns to adopt the age old mantra: all is far in love and war. 
he’s better than satoru in the sense that he doesn’t antagonize your boyfriend, he’s better than kento in the sense that he doesn’t outwardly outclass your boyfriend’s efforts, he’s better than megumi in the sense that he does care about people outside of his immediate circle of friends, and as long as your boyfriend is a human, then yuuji will care about his life; but in all other senses, yuuji is surprisingly neutral, and in some cases, actually worse. 
yuuji has two things to his advantage that he absolutely abuses: his likability, and his strength. when it comes to likability, he can just play the friendly, nice guy card. wrapping his arm around your shoulder, twirling you around in a hug, pinching your cheeks, playing with your hair, laying on your lap—he’s just yuuji, he’s just being friendly, he’s just being nice. it’d be pretty shitty of your boyfriend to tell him to be meaner to you, no? ^.^ yuuji is also sneaky with this in that he uses it to say otherwise mean things under the guise of a friendly disguise, and people rarely think otherwise of it. (“it’s fine if you go to the club with us if your bf doesn’t want you to. it’s not like you’re gonna marry him” “are those boxes giving you trouble, man? not surprising, haha!” “you guys didn’t break up yet? aw... i mean... well, no i meant that, but come on, let’s take shots!” all said with a smile that looks like this 😇😇 on his face)
in terms of strength, it’s an unbeatable challenge for your boyfriend—because even if he gets pissed off at yuuji being too close to you, too affectionate with you, too sweet to you, what’s he gonna do? because he certainly can’t beat yuuji in a fight—he couldn’t even beat yuuji in a race, he couldn’t even beat yuuji at mario kart, so there’s nothing for your boyfriend to do but shutup and wallow.  
second secretary: yuuta okkotsu
does he need an explanation… does mr. “how rude, this is pure love” need an explanation… does mr. “i will kill itadori yuuji myself” need an explanation… does mr. “i won’t let sensei kill his best friend again, [i’ll do it myself]” need an explanation… hasn’t he already proved himself as the single most loyal and contently insane person on the planet… 
once you have yuuta’s loyalty, you have it forever. not even for life, because he’d find a way to transcend space and time to protect you in the next one. even if, for some reason, you didn’t want it anymore, you have it; yuuta’s love is final sale, no exchanges or returns. the only reason he’s not ranked to be worse than megumi or yuuji is because yuuta has one grave disadvantage: he is not normally confrontational, and is the definition of anxious LOL. he’d feel bad if he didn’t make an effort to get to know your boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean he has to like him...
yuuta might know that he has feelings for you, but he’s honestly content with a platonic relationship if that’s how you choose to express it towards him. if you want to be friends, then he’s your friend; your love is that pure and vital to him, that he takes it in whatever form he gets it. he’s desperate for you in a way that has him completely at your whim; he doesn’t need reciprocity to love you, just knowing you, and knowing you accept his love is more than enough. keeping him around as friend, keeping him in your life, keeping him in your mind—that’s all yuuta could truly ever want. so, even when you have a boyfriend, it stings a bit at first, but as long as you still have the same amount of room in your life for yuuta, then he won’t do any harm to this guy. 
unless: (a) your boyfriend makes it difficult for yuuta to have access to you, (b) your boyfriend outrightly ticks yuuta off, or (c) the worst option, your boyfriend does something to hurt you or make you sad, then he’s off yuuta’s radar completely. he won’t confront, and he won’t intervene. but if any of those conditions are not met, even for a second, then your boyfriend is as good as gone and there’s little anyone, yourself included, can do to stop him. 
honorable board members: choso kamo, toji fushiguro, toge inumaki
everything about choso is on sight. it takes one wrong move, the slightest misstep, even a breath out of place and he will end your relationship and your boyfriend’s life if he has to. choso does not play when it comes to the people he loves, he won’t stand for you being hurt or mistreated in any way. there’s no subtle psychological warfare, there’s no shovel talk, there’s no blame game: choso sees something wrong, and he takes it upon himself to correct it. your partners have one chance to treat you right, or they’ll wish they hadn’t met choso to begin with.
toji doesn’t really chase people, but you have always been the exception. he hates to admit it, but he’ll follow you anywhere you go, not caring for whoever else you decide to bring along. if the journey of your life is a car ride, toji always calls shotgun, and he doesn’t really care who else gets in the backseat, until they ask him to get out of his—then there’s a problem. and he’s never once felt bad about turning some guy into a hitchhiker. 
the greater good should be thankful that toge takes a voluntary vow of silence, because if he said even half of the things that were on his mind, the world might, quite literally, be set on fire. toge doesn’t care—not like megumi, him not caring isn’t apathy towards the life or death of other people, he just doesn’t care what reaction his actions pull out of people. you’ve told him it’s annoying when he pinches your cheeks and steals your boba, but that won’t stop him from doing it, esp not when you look so cute when you’re angry. yeah, he knows people get annoyed by his pranks, but that’s whatever. he knows your boyfriend hates when toge’s around you, but he doesn’t care. if it brings toge joy, he’ll do it. honestly, even if it doesn’t bring him joy, he’ll do it because he wants to. he’s not immune to consequences like satoru, he simply doesn’t care about them! he’ll just deal with it, he’s got a high tolerance for it—your boyfriend, however, seems like a weakling, so toge will simply outlast him. he’s outlasted all the others :) 
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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 days
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The Last Ride Chapter 9 (AU Cowboy!C.Sturniolo)
summary: when spoiled and sheltered city girl Y/N finds herself in running in the wrong crowd, her dad gives her an ultimatum. it's either spend the summer of her gap year on her uncle's ranch or face being cut off and finding a job. just when she thinks it can't get any worse, she meets Chris, the brooding farmhand who thinks he knows her type. but as the summer goes on, they both realize there may be more to the other than meets the eye.
requested and advised by @rootbeerworshiper
contains: cursing, physical fight, verbal altercation, crying, cheating, lots of emotions, kissing, smut!, 6.9k words
a/n: holy shit y'all this is long. sorry. also links aren't working so you might have to go to the browser if you need the masterlist. love y'all
series masterlist
The silence doesn’t last long around us as Uncle Buck and Dad come running towards the commotion. But Chris doesn’t react to their shouts, leaning down and grabbing Jace up by his shirt. I finally make myself known, going to kneel beside Jace until one of Chris’ friends grabs my arm and shakes his head.
“Say it again.” Chris almost begs, his voice dark and dangerous like he’s looking for a reason to hit him again.
Jace’s eyes spew pure hatred back and he curls his lip up in disgust. “Get your fucking hands off me. Do you know who I am?”
“I think you’re a fucking baby who doesn’t know how to respect women.”
For whatever reason that causes Jace to get more upset, as if it isn’t partially true. I feel frozen, like I’m watching a movie unfold in front of me and there’s nothing I can do to affect what happens.
Jace attempts to get up, it’s unclear whether or not he’s trying to get back at Chris again or just simply standing up but the boy on top of him isn’t having any of it.
Chris slams Jace back into the ground, pushing his back into the slightly rocky dirt. “Let me get up asshole” Jace spits out, clearly embarrassed by the crowd of people watching him get his ass kicked.
All that can be heard is a petty laugh from Chris as he looks down at Jace one last time. “Nah. Go ahead. You’re tough. Speak about her that way again and see what happens, pretty boy.”
For once in Jace's entire life… he’s silent. He just looks to the side to avoid eye contact as Chris gets off of him. I thought this was the end, that the nightmare was over, but of course, it’s Jace we’re talking about.
“That bitch would never even like you.” Jace mumbles under his breath, eyes still trained on anything but Chris.
Unsurprisingly Chris looks down at him, both figuratively and literally. What does surprise me, however, is how Chris immediately spits at the pathetic boy on the ground. “Leave my girl the fuck alone, for good.”
This really set Jace off. Despite his inability to commit to a proper relationship, he was always possessive of me. “Your girl? She's only had one dick down her throat and it’s certainly not yours.”
He’s propped up on his elbows now, a familiar smug smirk on his face. All I feel is a pit in my stomach at his words. His words are spoken in front of everyone I care about.
I’m not a slut. It’s only ever been with Jace, and I never once enjoyed it as much as I thought I was supposed to. But Jace always told me I was good. For a long time, his approval was enough for me.
It became less about me finishing and more about having someone to tell me that I was doing a good job. And now he’s sharing my most intimate details in front of all these people. In front of Chris.
I feel eyes on me as the tears well up in my eye sockets, my arms crossed over my body to cover whatever dignity I have left.
Chris takes one look at me standing there watching in horror, before focusing back on Jace who’s now standing up. Jace clearly thinks he’s won this one since he still has a smug smirk even as he wobbles, but his nasty words don’t stand a chance next to the fuming boy who’s walking back towards him.
It all happens so fast, Chris’ sharp boot being kicked into Jace's side with full force. Jace is knocked back into the dirt as Chris shows no sign of stopping his painful movements.
Within a few seconds, my uncle is walking toward Chris to pull him back by his shoulders. “Get the fuck off me!” Chris yells out, eager to return to where he left off.
But Uncle Buck just pulls him back further, his grip strong. “Take a walk boy.”
“But-“ Chris tries to argue but it’s clearly a lost cause because the gaze in my uncle's eyes is more serious than Chris has ever seen it. He drops his head, breathing heavily, too full of respect for Buck to argue.
“Take a walk. Figure out your shit. Then come back, son.”
“Evie?” He asks softly, looking more like a kid being put in timeout than the man who just kicked someone’s ass for me.
“Birdie’s got her. Go.”
Before he does, we lock eyes one more time. But all the anger seems to have vanished from his features and he just looks… disappointed. Before I can even think of something to say, he turns and walks away with his hands on his head.
Once he’s out of eyesight, the crowd starts to dissipate since it’s clear the scene, and the party for that matter, is over. My uncle helps Jace from the ground with my dad’s help and I finally regain my ability to move.
As I come closer, Jace takes a step back like he thinks I’m going to take the next swing. Honestly, I really should. But I just clear my throat and narrow my eyes at him. “Bitch, huh? Too much baggage for you?”
He scoffs, his eyes damn near bucking out of his head. “That’s what you’re worried about? I was just viciously attacked! I need my fucking lawyer.”
My lip curls up in disgust as I watch him pat his pockets for his phone and come up empty. “I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been. You’re such a fucking loser.”
He pauses and looks up at me, giving me a hateful look that turns slowly into a wicked smile. “You want to talk about losers, sweetheart?”
Since I know him well enough to know when he’s going in for what he thinks is a kill shot, I brace myself before shrugging and forcing a mask of indifference. “You can’t hurt me anymore, Jace.” I lie. “I don’t care.”
“What about her?” He says, nodding at Lydia from where she stands a few feet away. As soon as she meets my eye, she goes frozen and pale as if she’s seen a ghost. And before he says another word, I know.
Memories resurface so quickly, that it feels like I’m watching them happen to someone else. Lydia freaking out whenever I touched her phone. The way Jace always remembered only two of our group’s orders at Starbucks- mine and Lydia’s. How conveniently they always seemed to end up near each other at events and parties.
My breathing hitches as I face her fully, fighting as hard as I can to keep my composure. “How long?”
“Y/N, please-” She tries to croak out, but I cut her off with a wave of my hand.
“How fucking long?”
She doesn’t answer for a moment and Jace chimes in behind me with an arrogant flair. “A year. About a week after we fucked to be more accurate. Great week for me.”
Before I can blink, my dad snatches him by the shirt and throws him against the side of the house. “I suggest you start watching your fucking mouth. It’s gonna get you hurt.” Dad lets him go and steps back with a warning look. “Go get your shit so I can get you back to your daddy.”
My head is reeling as I look around dazed. The expressions range from anger to shock, and even worse… pity. I can’t take it anymore, so I turn to rush to my room until I hear Jace call out behind me.
“And tell your little boyfriend, he can expect a call from my attorney.”
I freeze and look over my shoulder, surprising both Jace and myself when I burst into laughter. “Try it and I’ll tell your dad every fucking thing I know. I’ll start by advising him to check his gambling books.”
All the smugness abandons him as he goes white at my words so I give him a huge grin of my own. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
************
By the time I finally force myself to get out of the bath, I’m feeling completely numb. I’d sat in there for an hour, basically just staring at the wall and trying to figure out how I’d been so stupid.
I’m not even sad, not really. But there’s this ache in my heart like something is missing. I guess that’s what happens when you love someone for this long and lose them. Or maybe this is just proof of what my mind has been telling me all along- that I could never be enough.
When I’m dressed, I sit on my bed and check my messages. I’ve fallen out of the habit lately but tonight I’m longing for connection. There are a few worried texts but I ignore most of them, only answering Abby and letting her know I’m okay.
There’s a message from Brielle swearing she had no idea about Lydia and Jace, but I’m not sure if I can believe her, and I don’t have the brainpower to try to figure it out tonight. She’d left along with the other two at my dad’s insistence and I honestly think it was for the best. At least until I figure out who I can and can’t trust.
A sharp knock sounds on my door and I sigh deeply and toss my phone before telling them to come in. Birdie strolls in holding a plate of the Welcome Home cake we never got to cut and I can’t help but smile.
“Hi, my bunny. How are you feeling?” Her voice is so kind and the question is so genuine, I feel like I’m about to crumble in her hands. I try, I really try, not to Iet a tear fall as I nod quickly, but I fail.
She rushes over to me, places the cake on the nightstand, and takes me into her arms. “Let it out, honey. You’ve earned it.”
So I cry. Even though I’m not that surprised, even though I maybe even expected it. I cry for all the wasted youth I gave him. For all the effort I put into trying to be a girl he might love. For all the parts of me, I threw away to make room for him.
And yes, I maybe even cry for Lydia. For the days when I’d have called her my closest friend. I sob into my aunt’s arms until there’s nothing left to give, until my head throbs and my chest aches. Until, before I know it, I’ve fallen asleep.
*************
I wake up with a start to an empty and dark room thinking I must have slept through the next day, but realize it’s only been a couple of hours. What the fuck? Isn’t heartbreak supposed to keep you asleep or something?
Groggily, I wrap my throw blanket around my shoulders and head into the living room to see who’s still awake but, to my surprise, it’s empty. I guess they decided to go out since I did technically ruin their party. Fair enough, honestly.
There’s not much to do in the house alone, so I decide to go see the one girl I know who won’t ever let me down. I just hope she’s still awake.
When I get to the stables, the door is cracked a bit and I raise an eyebrow. There must already be someone here. I look down at my pajama pants that I haphazardly stuffed into my muddy work boots, trying to decide if it’s worth the humiliation. Then I remember the events of a few hours ago…yeah, way past that point, I guess.
I don’t know what I expected to find when I pushed the door open, but it definitely wasn't this- Chris leaned against the back wall, knees to his chest and his head in his hands.
He hears the squeak of the door and looks up, his blue eyes stormy and dark. We hold each other's gaze for a long moment, neither of us saying a word until he finally stands.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t be in here, I’ll go.” He goes to rush out of the door so I move over to block it and panic, saying the first thing that pops into my head.
“Where’s Evie?”
He pauses, not expecting the question, and blinks quickly. “She..uh.. I took her home.” A look of guilt passes over his face and he flinches. “I can’t believe I fought in front of her. Thank god Birdie grabbed her before she could see me like that.”
He sounds so disappointed in himself that I want to pull him in for a hug but I hold myself back. “I’m sorry. It was my fault.”
Chris levels me with a look so fierce a shudder goes down my spine. “Don’t do that. That’s on him. Not you.”
“I just don’t understand why you did it,” I admit, studying his boots instead of his face out of nervousness.
“If you think I was gonna sit back and let that bitch of a boy call you out of your name, you’ve lost your mind.” He grinds out with disgust, his skin flushing red as anger seems to settle back in over him. He starts to pace back and forth as my eyes track him in frustration.
"But what does that have to do with you? You’ve made it clear you want nothing to do with me." I say, fighting to keep my voice level and calm. I don’t want to make whatever has forced its way between us bigger but I’m tired of guessing at how he feels.
He laughs bitterly, still refusing to meet my eye as he shakes his head. “Have I? Is that right?”
I sigh, running a hand over my face. “There you go again, speaking in riddles. Why can’t you ever just be direct? I’m tired of playing these games.”
Chris finally stops his pacing and turns to meet my eye. “Games?” He asks, disbelief clear in his tone. “You think this is a game to me? I wasn’t ever playing with this, Scotch.” He gestures between the two of us widely before he spins away from me again, locking his arms behind his head.
The seconds stretch on as I stare blankly at his back waiting to see if he will say more. Just as I’m about to leave him to his thoughts, he faces me again, seeming to come to a decision.
“Fuck it.” He says simply as he crosses the space in three long strides and catches my mouth in a kiss. He braces his hands on either side of my face, the movement so abrupt and passionate that it takes several seconds for my brain to catch up.
The momentum of the kiss causes my back to hit one of the empty stalls slightly but I don't care in the slightest when Chris’ lips are on mine.
He pulls back for a moment, realizing his body moved before his brain had a chance to comprehend what he was doing. “Is this okay? I’m sorry. I don’t ever do shit like that. I just-“
I cut him off with another kiss, my hands pulling down his head to attach his lips back onto mine. This kiss is a lot different than the others we’ve shared in our time together. Usually, it’s short and sweet with smiles and small talk in between, but the passion behind this one is much more clear.
His hands trail on my sides causing me to shiver slightly at the touch. He detaches his mouth from mine again, but before I can get confused about it his lips make contact with my neck.
The way his lips suck softly on my bare skin has my head thrown back in pleasure, his hands coming up to make contact with my chest. “Fuck, Chris. I need to feel you.” I breathe out, reaching my hands towards his belt.
I can feel him hesitate, stiffening when I make contact before he groans and pulls back. His face pulls up in a helpless look and he shakes his head. “Not here.”
I furrow my brows as I try to pull him back to me but he doesn’t budge. “Why not?”
He gives me a look of disbelief as he gestures at our surroundings, kicking his feet at the hay for emphasis. “Scotch, ain't no way in hell I’m having sex with you in this dirty ass stable.”
Disappointment and a tinge of rejection tug at my chest as I nod and take a step back. “Okay.”
Tutting, Chris tilts my face up to his and presses a gentle kiss on my lips. “Don’t give me that look, baby. You know how bad I want you.”
As he speaks, he drops kisses lower and lower down my jawline until he finds a sweet spot on my neck, running his tongue slowly over it.
“But you deserve a bed…” He swirls his tongue as he pauses, his hand on my hip slipping just below my waistband. “And I deserve time.”
Moaning slowly at the sweet torture, I let myself melt into him until the frustration is too much and I push against his chest. “You making me even more horny is just mean if you’re not going to do anything about it.”
His eyes widen slightly at my desperate words as he pulls away, clearly not expecting that from me. “I..uh..never said that.” He looks around the stable. “Just can’t do a thing about it here.”
His answer was not a no, which is all I needed. I reach my hand down once more, fingers making contact with his obvious boner before I lean into his ear. “If you can’t do it here, then you’d better find somewhere you can.”
He searches my face for signs of uncertainty but he comes up short, leaning down to place one more kiss to my lips before replying. “Yes ma’am.”
***************
“Okay, Scotch,” Chris says, turning to me as he throws his truck into park. “We’re gonna have to be very quiet.”
“Why? Are we hunting wabbits?” I ask sarcastically in my absolutely atrocious Loony Toons impression.
He gives me a completely unimpressed stare before he tilts his head up toward the sky. “God, why? Why’d you give me this cornball?”
“Okay. Okay. What’s the plan?” I ask through my laugh, my stomach doing an involuntary flip when his eyes land back on mine.
Instead of answering, he watches me for a second before leaning over the center console and pulling me in for a kiss. It’s short and sweet, his thumb caressing the side of my face. I feel the heat rising to my face even before he pulls away. “Just follow my lead.”
I do exactly that, stepping carefully over the gravel and stepping to the side as he slowly unlocks and pushes open his front door. It makes a long creaking sound and we both hold our breath as we slip inside.
His house has the same classic farmhouse feel as my aunt and uncle’s except for a more antique touch. I smile when I see the floral patterns that adorn almost all of the furniture in the room- a grandma classic.
As if it wasn’t hard enough to keep my steps quiet, Evie’s toys are scattered across the floor like little landmines. I see Chris grimace as he sends a toy car zooming across the carpet accidentally. Just when I’m about to laugh at his clumsiness, I land down on a giant piano mat and suddenly I’m playing Beethoven with my feet.
Our eyes widen at the loud notes before Chris wraps his arms around my waist and snatches me off it. We freeze like we’re in a spy movie and we’ve set off a laser but we don’t hear any movement.
We take the stairs two at a time, moving as silently as possible until we reach the top. As soon as we do, Chris bursts into quiet laughter. “I knew I should have made her pick up her shit before bed.”
After what feels like an eternity we finally make it to his room, one of only two doors on this floor. He opens the door for me and ushers for me to go in first but I can’t help but feel completely awkward.
It’s one thing in the heat of the moment, but the stinging in my foot from where I stepped on a Lego has distracted my mind slightly.
When he closes his door behind him, I study him nervously before whispering, “Do we still have to be quiet?”
Shaking his head, he walks past me and takes a seat at the foot of his bed. “It’s only me up here. I mean, don’t yell or nothin’.”
This pulls me out of my awkwardness a bit and I give him a teasing smile. “Damn. I guess I’ll just have to wait to hear you scream.”
He raises an eyebrow and laughs, prodding his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “You wish.”
Still a bit too nervous to initiate anything, I take a moment to study his room. It’s a lot cleaner than I’d expect from a blue-collar boy, with only a few piles of clothes scattered around the floor. His bed is even surprisingly made.
His walls though are very typically bare, hosting only a small shelf of trophies, a framed Lil Skies vinyl, and a few pictures of friends and family on a corkboard. I scan them curiously, always desperate to know more about him.
I recognize a few of the friends but the picture of him being held by a woman with his eyes holds my attention. He looks about five years old, holding a cotton candy cone with a huge grin as he looks over at her. I run my finger over it gently, before deciding not to bring it up.
Instead, I go for something lighter and turn to point at the vinyl. “Okay, so, there’s being a fan, and then there’s an obsession. Why is it framed? I don’t even see a record player, you fraud.”
His eyes widen in faux offense and he puts a hand up. “First of all, don’t question me about the GOAT-”
“So debatable-”
“Second! You expect me to believe you don’t have a record player collecting dust at home? No chance.”
“Actually,” I say, rushing to defend myself. “It’s definitely been used, thank you very much.”
“How many times?” He questions, leaning forward and manspreading his legs.
At my very obvious wince of guilt, he scoffs and crosses his arms. “Lemme guess. It’s got Bluetooth, don’t it?”
“Okay,” I say, laughing and shaking my head in shame. “Shut up. I hate you.”
“You don’t.” He says with complete certainty and I roll my eyes. There’s that cockiness I’ve come to expect. But when I look back at him, it feels like the energy in the room has shifted a bit and I almost want to squirm.
He holds my eye contact with intensity before he gives
me a soft and firm, “C’mere.”
Anxiousness almost nails me to my spot but I fight it to walk over and stand between his legs, resting my hands delicately on his shoulders as I look down at him. He runs his hands up and down the sides of my legs, pausing to pull me in closer before continuing.
There’s nothing in the world I want to do more than kiss him at this moment so I do. Bending slightly, I press my lips to him in a slow and casual kiss that quickly turns more passionate. He lifts me onto his lap for more access before he hesitates and pulls away.
“Are you sure?” He asks, his eyes bouncing between mine as if trying to detect if my mind has changed. “Nothing has to happen tonight just because you’re here.”
Even without the undeniable honesty in his tone, I would have believed him but hearing him say it out loud makes it that much easier. I nod profusely, leaning back in to kiss him again but he dodges it and takes my face in his hands.
“Gonna need you to say it, Scotch.”
“I’ve never been more sure about anything than I am about this, Chris. I need you.” I make sure to keep my eyes on his so he knows I mean it. But the minute it’s out of my mouth, it’s like a switch flips as he pulls me back in roughly.
He kisses me wildly, his lips moving against mine with every bit of neediness that I’m feeling as well. When his tongue touches mine and coaxes a tremor out of him, I realize just how much power he’s handed over to me. But before I even have the chance to test it again, he flips us over, placing his body over mine as he slides me higher up the mattress.
It doesn’t take long for the kiss with him on top of me to take a turn. My legs are wrapped around him while his hands rest on my ass in order to pull himself closer to me. I can feel his bulge on me through the restriction of his jeans but it only makes me want him more.
He seems like he's slightly lost in the kiss. That or he’s too scared to do anything else. I pull back, a sight whine in my tone as I look him in the eye. “You do know you can touch me right?”
“I just want to make this good for you,” he replies, seeming uncharacteristically sheepish. It’s not often I see him so nervous which only makes me laugh through my breath.
“You’ve already made me more wet than I've ever been and you’ve only kissed me,” I whisper, causing a smile and a sense of relief to wash over him. “I just want to know what it’s like to do this sort of thing with someone who cares about me.”
“Do you trust me?” He asks, as if the answer isn’t blatantly obvious, his hands sliding up my sides again. This time though they’re under my shirt and the feeling is overwhelming.
I nod quickly. “‘Of course I do, Chris.” He smiles, dropping his head back down to my neck to suck on the skin softly. I get lost in the feeling momentarily, his fingers slowly tugging at the fabric that keeps me from him while I try my best to remain still under his touch.
As amazing as it feels, I grow impatient quickly as the throbbing between my legs overtakes any regular thought. “Chris please.”
He pauses on my neck for a moment, lifting my shirt above my head to leave me below him in the Victoria's Secret bra Lydia bought me for my 16th birthday. His eyes linger for a moment before he finally responds, a teasing smirk on his face. “Please what?”
I shake my head and fix my messed-up hair slightly. Of course, the asshole on top of me is going to make me spell it out for him. “Stop making me wait for you.”
“A whole damn summer of driving me insane and you think I’m gonna rush this?” He scoffs playfully before his lips make contact with mine again. His hands find comfort on my chest, causing me to arch my back into the touch.
Expecting another cocky remark at my neediness, it takes me aback when instead he just instructs me to sit up, his voice taking on a deeper affliction. It takes me a second to comprehend why I'm sitting up for him until his hand snakes behind my back and unclasps the lacy fabric with one hand.
It feels very real suddenly but I try not to let myself get anxious under his gaze. I keep my eyes on his face, his kind open eyes reminding me there’s nothing to be worried about. He’s not Jace.
“You’re so beautiful. Like really fucking beautiful.” He whispers as he takes the fabric off me fully, leaving me exposed below him.
Before I can leave behind another snarky remark about how long he’s taking his head dips down to my chest. He places a few kisses on my collarbone before his mouth finally makes contact with one of my nipples.
His tongue swirls around the bud and my hands can’t help but falter to his curly brown hair. The feeling of his lips sucking on me while his hands explore the rest of my body.
He’s true to his word on taking his time with me, and for once I don’t feel the need to rush it and get it over with. For once sex doesn’t feel like a chore.
Slowly, his kisses on my chest travel down my stomach, a soft noise left behind with each one. I squeeze my thighs together in order to relieve some tension that I'm not entirely sure what else to do with.
His fingers begin unbuttoning my pants and tugging gently before I lift my hips to grant him access. He slides them off along with my socks in one swift movement.
“Wait,” I say, causing concern to overtake his face in the dimly lit bedroom.
“Are you okay? We can stop,” he replies, pausing immediately and pulling back.
I just reply by lifting his t-shirt over his head, messing up his hair slightly. “Now we’re more even.” I smile.
He returns my smile, relief in his eyes as he kisses me. A more intimate kiss than before, a softer one that reminds me there’s more than lust between us. “I really like you.” He says, voice low and urgent as if he needs to make sure I know.
For whatever reason this does it for me, more than the touches and the way his hands rest on my side. Not that I didn’t know but the confirmation lights me anew. He really likes me. He likes me for me and not some made-up version of who he thinks I should be.
“I like you more,” I reply, a huge grin plastered on my face as he lowers his body back down to align himself with my center.
He kisses just above the line of my underwear, his thumb placing light pressure on my clit through the fabric while he replies. “Impossible.”
His hands pull on my underwear slowly, as if asking for permission which of course I grant eagerly. Lifting my hips to help him out, I can’t help but flush at how slowly and sensually he pulls them off. He whispers something under his breath that I don’t catch but sounds a bit like ‘beautiful’ before he comes back to me.
Expecting him to slide inside of me at any moment, I sit up and reach down to undo his pants but instead, he pushes me back into the mattress and swats away my hand.
Just as I’m about to question him, I feel his hand reach down to make contact with the wetness that’s pooled up for him, his fingers exploring my entrance slightly as his palm places a light pressure to my bare clit.
I try my best not to moan out at the slightest contact, finding it embarrassing how sensitive I am. It’s not like I've never had an orgasm in my whole life; I just haven’t had one at the hands of another person.
His lips find comfort on my neck again to place a few light kisses before shifting his body down on the bed completely. I shift uncomfortably as his hands slowly slide down my body, the touch leaving prickly goosebumps behind.
“You’re sure you’re okay with this, yeah?” He asks as his face is completely aligned with the section of my body that’s practically begging for him.
“Chris I swear to god if you ask me that again I'll-“ I’m cut off by his tongue licking a stripe through my folds, testing the waters and realizing just how easy it is to get me to shut up.
I place my hand over my mouth at the feeling of his nose brushing against my sensitivity, trying my best to keep my hopes still under his touch.
He pulls off momentarily before lifting my legs over his shoulders to grant him easier access. “If you thought I was going to have sex with you without getting a taste, you are out of your mind.”
I don’t bother replying, refusing to prolong the teasing any longer. But embarrassingly my heart can’t help but flutter at his desire to make me feel good. It’s nice being prioritized for once.
His lips wrap around the throbbing bud as he uses his tongue in an urgency I wasn’t expecting. My hips lift slightly up to meet his face but a hand pushes me into the bed by my lower stomach to keep me still.
My stomach is tensing at the pleasure of his tongue flicking repeatedly and it's near impossible to not let out any noises. A few small whimpers escape my lips without a second thought causing me to cringe slightly at the thought of anyone hearing this.
He slows his movements every once and a while to place delicate kisses on my lower half, practically cherishing me before he continues his relentless work on my clit.
My heavy breathing fills the room and it hitches at the addition of one of his fingers. It slides into me with ease and immediately curls upwards at a teasing speed.
A moan slips out of the palm of my hand and I can feel him smile against me as his finger stretches me out and his tongue continues the flicking movement.
I feel the build-up in my stomach approach but I’m scared of releasing my hand from my lips. I’m not used to having to hold back real moans during sex.
So I tap him on the shoulder, causing the boy to immediately look up at me with eyes that have my heart beating out of my chest. He watches me as pleasure coils inside my stomach, a look of satisfaction and wonder in his eyes.
He pulls his lips away from my core to place another loving kiss on my lower stomach. “Can I put another one in?” He asks, looking up at me for permission.
I nod with a slight fear lingering in my head. Chris' fingers are definitely larger than my own.
He dips his head back down to refocus his attention on my clit momentarily before carefully entering another finger into my core. It must be obvious that it’s been a while because he works slowly.
Soon enough the stretching turns into pleasure and a gasp slips from my lips as he curves his fingers deep inside of me, deeper than before. As his fingers curl up to hit the sweet spot I could never reach, his tongue swirls against my clit at its fastest pace.
His other hand rubs soothing circles against my hip as I cling to him, pleading for more as his tongue and finger find a rhythm.
When I feel my high building, it’s so intense, so unlike anything I’ve experienced before, I almost want to run away. But I’m like putty in his hands as he works over my body, every kiss feeling like worship.
I say his name through a moan and meet his eye as waves of pleasure crash over me, his movements pausing and giving me a break as I ride it out. He crawls up my body, a grin on his face as I settle down and go weak in his arms.
Chris presses kiss after kiss to my face until I giggle and pull away to look him in the eye. “That was-”
“I know.” He cuts in, his cocksure smirk snapping back into place as he raises a brow at me. I roll my eyes and shove him up, unable to hide my smile at his quiet laughter.
We both pause for a second, him seeming unsure how much further I want to go and me not being used to taking control. But something about the way he’s looking at me fills me with confidence and I pull myself back over his lap, straddling him.
He sits up against his headboard, moving me with him, and places his hands on my hips as he studies me. I can see from his expression that he wants to ask yet again if I’m sure, so I cut him off with a hungry kiss, grinding myself against his jeans.
Straining even harder against his pants, he groans and gives in, reaching down to tug off his belt quickly. I slide off of his lap so he can stand and get off the rest of his clothes, my eyes frozen on his bulge as he removes his boxers.
My jaw drops as his length is revealed and I tear my eyes away to give him an incredulous look. Before I can stop myself, I stutter out a stunned, “Is that going to fit?”
His eyes dance with amusement, biting his lip to keep from outright laughing at me before he nods. “You can take it.”
Stepping over to his nightstand, he pulls out a box of condoms before going to put it on. My heart starts to flutter a bit when I realize that it’s a new and unopened box and I hide my smile.
Finally covered, he walks back toward me so I lie down on instinct, figuring he’ll turn me around if he prefers backshots but he tuts and shakes his head. “Uh uh, baby. This ain’t a laid back kinda night.”
He lifts me and takes my place, bringing me down to straddle him again. Panic floods me as I realize what he wants. “Chris… I don’t know…I’ve never done that before.”
Embarrassment makes me look away from him but he grabs the back of my neck and gently tugs me down for a kiss. “It’s okay, Scotch. I got you.”
Nodding slowly, I let the feeling of safety settle over me before I give up control. Chris guides me up by my hips, placing me against his dick but letting me set the pace.
With a steadying breath, I slowly lower myself down inch by inch, gasping as he fills me. When I think there’s no way I could possibly take anymore, I look down and realize he’s only halfway inside. Meeting his eyes, I give him a helpless look and he squeezes my hips.
“You’re alright, baby. Just like that.”
I can hear the strain in his voice as he tries not to move to let me adjust and it spurs me on until I completely bottom out. Chris whispers a quiet string of curses, screwing his eyes shut in pleasure. “Fuck, I knew you’d feel like this.”
Moaning at his words and feeling my wetness pool around him, I rock my hips and throw my head back. I swirl my hips, trying to find a rhythm that feels right until Chris lifts me again.
This time, he’s more urgent and a bit rougher, tugging me up and down as he thrusts his hips up to meet mine. I move with him, letting him push deeper inside of me until I want to scream. I want to lean down and kiss him again but the friction between us feels too good to break the rhythm.
Deciding to fight for my sliver of dominance back, I brace my hands on his chest and set my own tempo. It clearly drives him crazy, his hands gripping my hips tighter as he moans out my name. Not a pet name. Not even Scotch. But my name. And the way it sounds on his lips is enough to have me clenching against him.
“Fuck.” He groans, his hands traveling up to squeeze my breasts as they bounce with our movements. “That’s my fucking girl.”
My moans must get too loud because he pulls me down and smashes his lips against mine, swallowing every whimper he coaxes out of me. I try to hold off when I feel another orgasm tearing through me, desperate to stretch this feeling out forever. But it’s no use.
“Chris, I’m coming-” I try to say against his lips but he already knows, pulling back to watch me fall apart on top of him.
I press my face into his shoulder as I come around him, my teeth grazing his skin as I shudder with pleasure. Knowing I’m about a second away from tapping out, he picks up his pace, his lips going to the base of my throat.
He lets out a strangled sound before going limp and wrapping his arms even tighter around me. Neither of us moves a muscle, not even bothering to pull out as we breathe heavily skin to skin.
There’s a moment of fear, of insecurity, when I’m not sure what will happen next. So I lie as still as I can hoping to prolong the moment when everything changes. The fear stays as he finally pulls away and goes to clean up. It persists when he comes back and hands me an oversized shirt and a pair of his boxers.
It isn’t until he’s laid down beside me, my body pulled flush against his that I understand. Not until he leans me back to press a sweet and casual goodnight kiss on my lips.
He’s not anything like the boy I loved before. He can be a safe place to land
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Ruined Movie Dates ✧.*
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James Potter x Reader
Hurt/Comfort
“Did you think I would have been mad? because i’m not mad, honestly I don’t think I could ever be mad at you even now when you hide yourself in a bathroom to avoid me helping you when you are hurt, I can never be mad.”
masterlist
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You are currently hiding from James in the bathroom.
It’s not like you want to be hiding from James, you want to be cuddled up in his arms watching a movie right about now as you had planned yesterday, but here you are with a black eye hiding in your bathroom as you hear James letting himself into your apartment.
It really wasn’t your fault it’s not like you prompted this person to punch you, she mistaked you for the girl who slept with her girlfriend and that’s fair.
but god does it hurt like an absolute bitch.
And all you know is that James can not know about this. Your sweet, kind, lovely, caring boyfriend would flip the absolute fuck out if he saw that you had a black eye.
in a loving and concerned way of course but, how exactly are you going to hide it from him when he’s literally in your apartment right now for a movie date?
you have absolutely no idea.
“Love?”
you hear James call from the entry way
“I’m just in the bathroom i’ll be out in a sec!”
fuck.
you usually keep your makeup in a drawer under the sink but as you open it is you realize you left your foundation in your purse yesterday when you were running late to work. Now you really have to option but to kick James out and wait until your eye heals to see him again.
“Um James can you come here please?” you ask in a small voice
you hear his footsteps come from the kitchen up until the door and you open the door a crack so that he can’t see your bruised eye
“I’m really not feeling good tonight and I know it’s a little late to cancel seemingly as you’re already in my apartment but I hope you’ll understand when I ask you to please go?”
he stands there silently staring at you, evaluating you, looking right into your soul, and stealing all the thoughts from your brain.
how dare he.
“If you really are feeling unwell and want me to go, I will but I don’t mind getting sick and I would rather take care of you, if you’ll let me?”
and shit. When he talks in that sickly sweet voice it’s really fucking hard to lie to him.
“Jamie I appreciate the offer but I just really need you to go-“
as you are as politely as possible asking him to remove himself from the premises of your apartment complex he shifts his position allowing him to see just a little further into the bathroom. Just enough to see your absolutely fucked eye.
“Baby what happened?”
All the sudden his concerned look gets ten times worse. his eyebrow scrunches more and is frown deepens and he opens the door to grab your chin and examine your eye.
without the stress of trying to hide from james you can finally feel the throbbing pain in your eye and you really wish you had sneaked an ice pack before you scurried into hiding
“lovie you have to tell me what happened”
you just whine.
he lightly brushes his finger over the bruise and you wince
“sorry”
“it’s okay” you say taking a deep breath
“This girl mistaked me for the girl her girlfriends been cheating on her with but it’s not her fault because she showed me a picture and we do look exactly the same I mean I was wondering if i was secretly adopted and had a twin that I didn’t know about-“
and now youre rambling and it doesn’t seem to be soothing james’ pitying expression
“ Love why didn’t you call me immediately? I would have been there in an instant. Did you think I would have been mad? because i’m not mad, honestly I don’t think I could ever be mad at you even now when you hide yourself in a bathroom to avoid me helping you when you are hurt, I can never be mad.”
“i’m sorry I just didn’t want to make it a big deal”
“it is a big deal, you’re hurt, cmon love let’s go get an ice pack that must hurt”
and he scooped you up into his arms as if it was your legs that were hurt and carried you the couch as he grabbed an ice pack
you can’t lie, there are much worse things than being taken care of by james. much much worse.
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zanarkandskylines · 20 hours
Text
listening to fortnight got me thinking about bakugo and reader having a very brief fling, something that happened in the past during their 20s, but stuck with both of them for years.
i touched you for only a fortnight i touched you, but i touched you
fast forward to living in the same city, the two of you now in your 30s and end up becoming neighbors by happenstance. you're both married to other people since you only talked in shared friend group settings after said fling.
all my mornings are mondays stuck in an endless february
you watch his wife water her flowers in the garden out back while making coffee in the kitchen every goddamn morning. you have no clue why it irks you so much, that the sight of her stupid smile makes you wanna punch her lights out.
occasionally, you run into bakugo at your mailboxes after a long day at work. small talk is the only thing you two can muster - a comment about the weather or harmless compliments about each other's appearance.
"sure rained like hell yesterday."
"nice sweater, your wife buy it for you?"
"god, it's too fucking hot today."
"that dress looks nice on ya."
one night, both of your spouses are away when a storm comes raging through the city. your power goes out, leaving you in the dark because your stupid husband forgot to replace the generator. from your windows, you see bakugo's household has power and decide to hightail it over for some company.
he answers the door with a confused look on his face. "the fuck you doin' in the rain? get in here!"
bakugo makes you a coffee to share with him in the kitchen, bullshitting through the night like you used to do as twenty somethings. it felt natural, your heart soaring as you watched him laugh and retell jokes from the past. when the conversation died down, you blurted out something you didn't plan to vocalize to anyone.
"i think my husband's cheating. sometimes i just wanna kill the bastard."
caught off guard by your admittance, bakugo quirks an eyebrow at you in response. "little extreme, but i'm sure that could be arranged."
"would be cheaper than a damn divorce. that asshole would take everything from me."
he snickers, taking another sip of his coffee. "think my wife's doin' the same. comes home late and shit, never can tell me why."
"how'd we get stuck with this shit luck?" you retort, forcing a laugh from your tightened chest.
"could be worse. we're neighbors, that's fuckin' lucky for me."
i love you...it's ruining my life.
"oh? i'm starting to think that's not a coincidence anymore."
bakugo sets his mug on the countertop, turning to face you while crossing his arms over the broadness of his chest.
"might'a convinced my wife to move here. thought maybe we could be friends again."
"so you bought a fucking house next to me instead of just calling to go to dinner?" you ask mockingly, a smirk on your face as you awaited his bullshit answer.
he shakes his head with a grin of his own. "sure did."
i love you...it's ruining my life.
"how come you never ask or invite me over then? we're literal neighbors, kats."
"pretty sure my wife's scared of ya. plus, i want time with you, not us."
that makes your heart skip a beat.
"hell of a way to say you miss me." you pause before setting your own cup down on the counter. "i'm glad you're here."
"me too."
right as he's approaching you, the front door swings open.
"babe, i'm home!" his wife calls, handful of shopping bags. she sees you standing in the kitchen aside bakugo - you give her a soft wave.
"oh, hi. i didn't expect company tonight."
"her dumbass husband forgot to replace their generator. just helpin' her out."
she gives him a glare, tilting her chin up at him, almost condescendingly, as she assesses his answer.
"how unfortunate. stay as long as you need, i'm gonna go put this away."
and with that, she leaves for their bedroom to unload her shopping haul. once she's out of earshot, you turn to bakugo and chuckle under your breath.
"oh yeah, she hates me."
bakugo rolls his eyes. "let her be miserable, it's her strong suit. come on, let's go take'a look at that generator."
the generator works just fine, you unplugged it before coming over.
you were curious if there was a spark leftover between you two, only to find the fire was not only stoked, but never fully extinguished.
blasty tags; @slayfics @maddietries @queenpiranhadon @starieq ✨
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drjholtzmann · 3 days
Text
this is dreamling more than dead boy detectives but it's been in my head since reading issue #25 after s1 of sandman. so, now feels like a good time to release it into the world. i just want them all to get in each others way
(season of mists spoilers)
------------
It’s not often that Hob smokes. It’s an expensive habit, and secondhand smoke and all that. But it’s hardly going to kill him, so he’s usually got an ancient pack on hand somewhere. Handy, especially in situations like this. Not that there’s ever been a situation like this before but, well. You live long enough. 
He slips out into the beer garden of the pub, lighting up almost absent mindedly, the action still muscle memory. 
“What the fuck,” he mutters, rubbing his thumb along his lower lip, “what the fuck. Dream, if you have bloody anything to do with this, I swear to god, Morpheus. What the fucking fuck.” He closes his eyes, lets his head fall back against the brickwork. Despite it all he huffs an exhausted laugh. Because sure. Of course. Yeah, why not. Of course this would happen. “Jesus Christ, Morpheus. Even if this isn’t you, bloody… fucking wish I could just ask.” It’s all said barely above a whisper. Just in case. Always just in case. He blindly ashes his cigarette and heaves out a heavy breath, “Lord above,” he scoffs, raising the cigarette to his lips again. 
“Hob?”
Hob startles, eyes snapping open, head knocking back sharply against the brick. “Fuck – ow – Dream?” He raises his free hand to rub the back of his head, wincing slightly. “That, uh… that worked better than expected.” 
“You were calling for me?”
“Yeah… sorta. I didn’t… think it worked like that. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You did not. I had thought briefly of you.” 
“Oh, yeah?” Hob grins. “How come? You miss me already?”
Morpheus sends him a withering look. 
“I, um… dreamt of you. While ago. Was that – real?”
“It was.”
He nods, thumb nervously tapping the filter of his cigarette. “Uh huh. Figured. With the wine, and…” he trails off. The hollow feeling of that dream, or rather, of that waking coming back to him in full force. “You said some ominous shit. Then I said some ominous shit. Was that real, too?”
Morpheus nods solemnly. 
“Right. Don’t suppose you’ll explain that?” Morpheus remains silent. “Right. Course not. Things okay, though? Now? I mean,” he gestures to his friend, “you’re here. That must be good, yeah?”
“Yes. And no.”
“Great. Fab.”
“What I thought I was facing has… changed.”
“...’kay. Well, can I ask you a question?”
Morpheus pauses but, after a moment, nods.
“S’it got anything to do with the dead kids hanging out in my pub?”
“What?”
“Yeah, couple of boys who look like they should definitely be in school – about, oh, fifty years ago. At least.”
Morpheus’ eyes don’t actually widen in alarm, but there is something to that effect happening… not quite in his expression, but in his aura, perhaps. Hob gets the feeling that if he were a cat the fur along his spine would be standing on end. 
“So… it is related?” 
“Perhaps.”
“Definitely, then.” Hob takes a short puff of his cigarette. 
“Show me?” 
“Uh… I don’t know if they know that people can see them. I don’t know if people who aren’t me can see them, actually. So just, um…” the caution dies in his throat as he realises who it is he’s talking to. Morpheus will do what he will, Hob’s advice be damned. 
Dream draws close, peering in through the windowpane of the door back into the pub. “How do you know?”
“You get pretty good at feeling when things are off once you’ve been around the block six hundred years or so. Also, they walked in through the closed front door. As in, passed right through the solid wood and glass.”
“I see.”
“Why are they here?” 
“To sample your fine selection of craft beer, perhaps?”
“Oh, he’s joking,” Hob has joined his side in peering not-so-surreptitiously through the door. “‘Mortal plane’ here, not here-here.”
“Death must have been busy… It is not like her to leave a job unfinished without good reason.”
“Must’ve…? What the fuck could be so horrific that Death is being kept busy?”
Morpheus, beside him, is silent. Deadly still. And it tells Hob all he needs to know. 
“Dream,” he hisses, “what the fuck is this? What’s going on?”
There is a long pause. “I ought not to tell you.” Dream murmurs, still facing the glass panel of the door.
“And I ought not have two dead teenagers in my pub. All things relative.” 
“They are causing no harm.”
“I don’t doubt that. It’s you I’m worried about now.”
“Your concern is of no use. What I mean is that they are no poltergeists, not aggressive, there seems to be nothing demonic about them.”
“Which means… there are poltergeists and demons running about at the mo?”
“I told you, I ought not say. There are diplomatic proceedings to take place.”
“You get that that makes even less sense, yeah?”
Dream seems to, at last, with an almighty eye roll, give in. “Hell is closed,” he hisses, turning to face Hob directly. 
“Hell is closed.” Hob repeats back, dumbfounded. “And that means… The devils are all here?”
“Precisely.”
“But the boys… aren’t devils?”
“They are not.”
“Okay. That’s good news. And the devils?”
Dream shrugs, sharp and languid. “Anywhere. Everywhere.”
“Great. Okay. Less good. Very much less good. So, uh. What… do I do? Am I supposed to exorcise them? Because, I have to be honest – would really rather not do that.” 
“You are under no obligations.”
“Oh.” 
“They could not be here without Death’s knowledge or her say-so. She will come for them in time.”
“Oh.” Inexplicably, Hob’s heart sinks a little.
“They are not alive, Hob.” Dream says, looking him in the eye. “They cannot live forever as the dead.” 
“Hm. Yeah. S’pose.” He looks through the windowpane at the two boys, chatting animatedly at a corner table out of the way. “They’re just kids, though. Barely got a normal life.”
“You cannot save them, Hob.”
“Why not?”
“You cannot. They may not be destined for Hell, but that doesn’t mean they can stay amongst the living.” 
“Says who?”
“The universe. Death, herself.”
Hob smirks, tilting his head down a fraction to look up at Dream from under a quirked brow. “You know what I think of Death.”
And Hob catches the tension at the corner of Dream’s mouth that he knows, whatever he might say to the contrary, is a suppressed smile. 
“C’mon, what if I just help ‘em live a little? While they’re here?”
“Hob.”
“What?! Can’t a guy be nice?”
“I have meetings to attend to.”
“That’s not a no.” 
“I think it a poor choice to flaunt immortality in front of two who have died so young. I would caution against it.”
“Okay. Fuck, fair point. But they don’t have to know about me. They wouldn’t somehow know, right?”
“I would caution against it, Hob Gadling.”
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tossawary · 2 days
Text
Thinking about Wei Wuxian's first meeting with Jin Ling again and how fucking funny and delightful it is. Like, let's put the "WWX, you probably could have EASILY guessed this was your nephew if you had spent just thirty seconds thinking about this person's identity" aside completely for a moment. Let's just pretend here that Jin Ling isn't even his nephew. Not a factor.
Wei Wuxian is still in the body of MO XUANYU, who was kicked out of the Jin Sect in disgrace and resorted to sacrificial rituals to commit murder. He KNOWS this. He KNOWS that Mo Xuanyu and the Jin Sect have a bad history and that the Jin Sect considers him an utter embarrassment that they want nowhere near them, and that powerful people will enforce these things with violence. He WILL be recognized (Jin Ling recognizes his crazy uncle Mo Xuanyu immediately) and any actions he takes here will probably be noticed and reported on. Publicly starting shit as Mo Xuanyu especially may cause the Jin Sect to angrily hunt him down later.
So, like, it makes sense to be cautious! The Jin Sect were his enemies in his last life, too, and even if Mo Xuanyu had ZERO relation to the Jin Sect whatsoever and was a complete stranger to them, Wei Wuxian should want to stay out of their way lest they somehow learn that the Yiling Patriarch is back. It's very reasonable to assume that the Jin Sect would raise a new killing mob against him immediately. Wei Wuxian doesn't really know the current political landscape at all, and so it would be smart to stand back, observe the hunt for a little bit, and avoid interacting with the Jin Sect at least for a little while.
All it would take is Wei Wuxian standing back while this fuss with the hundreds of spiritual nets accidentally catching other cultivators happens. He could just hide behind a tree, let Jin Ling and his entourage go by him, and try to find some other way to get the poor people down. All it would take is Wei Wuxian NOT calling out a Jin Sect cultivator for being a "spoiled rich brat".
And he fails that "test". Immediately.
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Text
Thinking about Actress!Reader who finally got to change into a pair of shorts and a crop top after being in a corset and long dresses all day after shooting was done for the day.
Actress!Reader who gets invited to go get Gelato with Peter to help cool off after being stuck in such stuffy clothes for the past six hours.
Bodyguard!Miguel who had to suppress a scowl when you told him that you were basically going on a date with your fellow actor. But that didn’t deter him from volunteering to watch over you both when you went to walk through the streets of Rome. He’d rather be the one watching over you than Peter’s bodyguard.
Actress!Reader and Actor!Peter who didn't notice when a group of passersby recognized them, snapping a few pictures of you both without your knowledge. You weren’t completely used to the whole “having photos taken of you without your permission or contact” but that was unfortunately a price to pay when you’re new and on the rise.
Actress!Reader who finally went home to relax, getting a good night's rest now that the jet lag has finally stopped.
Actress!Reader who wakes up the next morning with 24 missed calls, 35 new messages and her name trending on twitter.
Jake (Manager): (Y/N).
Jake(Manger): (Y/N), call me when you wake up.
Peter 🐝.: Did you look at Twitter yet?
Peter🐝.: Or like any social media yet?
Bestie💝: Girl…
Bestie💝: You’ve got some explaining to do.
“What’s… happening?” You mumbled as you scrolled through your new messages as you waddled into the kitchen of your hotel suite, where Miguel was already drinking his cup of coffee. Glancing up at him for a moment as he greeted you.
“Morning.” He mumbled as he placed his mug down. “Your manager told me to have you call him when you're up.”
“Do you know why?” You asked him as you scrolled to Jake’s contact info, receiving a grunt in response, a no.
“(Y/N) (L/N), would you like to explain what went on yesterday after you finished up on set?” You felt like you were five years old and being scolded by your mom all over again, except you genuinely didn’t know what you did.
“Um, I went to go get a snack with Peter. Why-“
“A snack.” He repeated, his tone questioning despite it being deadpan.
“Yes, a snack.” You huffed, your confusion turning into irritation as your brows furrowed together. “Why? can't I have a snack after work with my coworker?”
“You can have a snack after work, but from what I’m looking at here it doesn’t seem like it’s with a coworker.” His words make you pause.
“What?” All attitude now gone, confusion settles back in. “What are you talking about?”
“You haven’t seen the pictures yet?”
“What pictures?”
“Oh dear God…” Jake mumbled under his breath, before letting out a sigh. “Go on twitter, and check the trending tab.”
You put him on speaker and did what you were told, waiting for the little bird app to load, before clicking on the explore tab. Eyes widening as you read out the headline at top.
“Peter B. Parker and (Y/N), coworkers on a new upcoming movie, spotted out on date?!?”
Miguel almost started to choke on his coffee after he heard you recite the words, having to hit his chest to clear his windpipes as you frantically started to scroll through the tag.
“No, no it wasn’t a date though Jake, it wasn’t-“ Your words died on your tongue as your finger stopped scrolling once you hit a particular picture.
A picture of Peter making you try his flavor, by spoon feeding you.
Fuck how can I be so dumb? How could I forget that happened? It was only 2 seconds Max. And now it’s trending.
“I need you down at set an hour early. We have some things to discuss with Peter and his team.” Jake sighed before you heard the dial tone of him hanging up the call.
Shit.
Part 4<
Not proofread.
Word count: 600
Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st
@mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout
@laysmt @migueloharasoulmate @fruityfucker @pigeonmama @scaryplanetdestroyer
@migueloharastruelove @krentkova19 @genny1019 @maiyart
@stressed-cherry @haveclayeveryday @miguelzslvtz @scaleniusrm @xerorizz
@enananawoah @messicampeon @anastasia1972 @lauraolar14 @huniedeux
@bluesidez @nommingonfood @chrishy973 @m4dyy @night-spectrum
@electricgg (to be added click here)
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badaleesbish · 2 days
Note
I want to see something where Bada gets idol!reader pregnant and their relationship is public. I dont have a plot just want to see something cute. Maybe throw in some drama cause why not
Down bad bada is a must
What A Life. | Bada Lee x Reader
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°SUMMARY:
"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎."
"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗."
"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎."
"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐."
"𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎."
~ 𝙹𝚑𝚎𝚗𝚎 𝙰𝚒𝚔𝚘 - 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 (𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎)
°CW:
𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚐!𝚙 𝚋𝚊𝚍𝚊, 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚢, 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚏𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎 (𝚛. & 𝚋𝚊𝚍𝚊), 𝙳𝙸𝙳 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙾𝙵 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳‼️ 𝚂𝙾𝚁𝚁𝚈 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝙼𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴𝚂‼️
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There is a lot to being an idol. From having some sort of talent, just simply being a pretty face to look at to strict diets and contracts, hectic overloaded schedules, and toxic groups and companies, but there is something that is expected of you is an idol. Can you guess what it is...
Being the only one for your fans, a parasocial relationship if you will. You are supposed to stay pure and innocent for your fans, no sex, no relationship, no children, no drinking or smoking, no potty mouth. You are supposed to keep your fans as happy as possible, whether it makes you uncomfortable or not. Just do it with a smile, they say. Well, so much for not "breaking" the "idol rules."
You may have screwed up a few months into your solo career as an idol. Your relationship with your choreographer, Bada Lee, was exposed by fucking sasaengs and then was quickly picked up by Dispatch, fucking snitch. There was some hate with comments on your social media like,
"Unnie, you are not ashamed for abandoning us like this?"
"Well... there goes her career."
"Noona, a woman, seriously?!?!? Maybe you should get a real MAN?!?!"
"Wow, so we fuck our choreographers now."
"STAY AWAY BADA, YOU DIRTY CUNT!!!"
But despite the hate, you and Bada decided to go public with your relationship, which gained quite a bit of support with comments from both your fanbases,
"Come on, guys, just admit it. They are cute as fuck."
"Love it!!!"
"Both of my worlds are colliding. What the actual fuck?!?!?."
"My parents are so cute!!!"
"Made for each other fr."
"Look at how they look at each other."
You both were happy. Your careers were skyrocketing, and you two still had somewhat of a supportive fanbase together and solo. Your company were somewhat supportive but still made you apologize to fans to regain their trust again.
"So what you are telling me is that I have to apologize for falling in love?" You scoffed as you sat across from your manager and a couple of members of your staff. "Are you hearing yourself right now?"
"Well, ma'am, you signed a contract that states everything regarding the dating ban as well as the consequences that may follow if broken." Your manager said, pushing the contract towards you as well as pen and paper to follow. "It's there in black and white, ma'am."
"So what's next? Are you gonna make me apologize for getting married and starting a family, too? You said as you began to write your heartfelt apology to your fans.
"Well, let's just hope that doesn't happen, right?" Your manager said as he leaned back in his seat with a smirk on his face. "You are our money maker, sweetheart, so we kind of need you. Tell your bitch to wrap that shit up, okay?"
"Yeah, whatever." You scoffed as you pushed the pan and paper back towards him, standing from your seat as you made your way to the door. "Also, if I were you, I'd watch what the fuck I say since ya know, I am your money maker."
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"So what do we do with it?"
"Bada, you don't have to do anything. I have to handle this."
"It should be fairly easy, right?"
Bada was quite confused about the whole situation. It's like, at one moment, you were perfectly fine and then you end up sick at the simple scent or taste of a food. At first you both thought it was your menstrual cycle until you realized you were a whole two weeks late. It can't be, right? There's no way... Is there?
"Okay, I'll just read the instructions and just go for it. What's the worst that could happen?" You grabbed the bag of pregnancy test and made your way to the bathroom with Bada hot on your heels. "Baby, just let me take the test, okay? Alone, please?"
"Yeah, of course. If you need me, just call." Bada said, kissing your forehead before backing up allowing you to walk into the bathroom. "I'll be right here, okay?"
You nodded as you closed the door behind you. Nerves began to rush over your body as you pulled the test from the bag and began to read the instructions.
"Okay, step one, remove the plastic cap and use immediately. Step two, hold the absorbent tip in urine stream for five seconds. Step three, replace cap and lay test flat. Step four, wait 1 to 3 minutes for results." You read, taking deep breath after the mouth full. "Alright, seems simple."
After five tests, constant hand washing and the struggle of just trying to pee on the stick, you were finally done and now is the even more nerve-wracking part, waiting for the results. The three minutes seemed like hours, but it was time, and to be honest, you were scared shit less. If these tests come out positive, what will this mean for both of your careers?
"Bada..." You called out for your girlfriend on the other side of the door. "Come in here now."
"What does it say? Baby, why are you crying?" Bada said as she rushed into the bathroom to see you sitting on the floor with a test in your hands as tears stream down your cheeks.
Bada looked over to the other tests on the counter. Her hands flew over her mouth as she let out gasp. "Positive... it's positive."
Bada sat next to you, wrapping her arms around your body as you sob into her shirt, still gripping to test in your hand. You are pregnant, and there's no going back now. It's not that you don't want children, you do, but not this early and not like this. You wanted to getting married and be settled, no more idol life just you, Bada and your baby living somewhere discreet and outside the public eye.
"What are we gonna do, Bada? What about my career? What about your career? The fans? The company?" You began to play out everything in your head of what would happen if the public found out. All the backlash and more negative comments. "I'm scared, Bada."
"Hey, it's you and I, okay? Don't worry about all of that. If this was not meant to be, then it would have never happened." Bada lifted your head as she wiped your falling tears, gently caressing your cheeks. "It's okay to be scared, baby. This is new for both of us. We're gonna take it one step at a time. Together."
You smiled weakly as you leaned into her touch, nodding in agreeance. "I love you."
"I love you too." Bada said, pulling you into a kiss. "We got this."
"We got this."
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°AN:
Ummm... I really hope you enjoy this, and I am sorry for the VERY late response. Enjoy, tho!!! 💙
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scoonsalicious · 14 hours
Text
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Unwanted: Chapter 29, Unarmed, Redux - Pt. 2
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of violence, death, talking about feelings, finally being honest and getting shit out there.
Word Count: 2.1k
Previously On...: Tony filled you in on what's happened since your showdown with Carthage.
A/N: Send in the Barnes!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
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“Doll.” Your eyes shot open at the sound of Bucky’s husky whisper. He stood in the doorway, staring at you like he was seeing a ghost. He was still wearing the same clothes he wore when he’d rescued you– covered in dried blood, both yours and the Hydra agents he’d taken down. His right eye was a riot of black and blue bruises, nearly swollen shut, his lip cut.
“Hey, soldier,” you said softly. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“I’m surprised you wanted to see me at all, doll,” he said forlornly. “After everything I put you through, I’d be done with me if I were you.”
You offered him a soft half-smile. “Come here,” you said, using your good arm to pat the space on the bed next to you.
Bucky looked between you and the spot you indicated with confusion, as if he weren’t sure he’d heard your offer correctly. But he walked over to you like a man condemned, and you wondered briefly if he expected you to tell him you were well and truly done with him now. As if you could ever be. You were pretty positive by now that, in spite of everything, you truly couldn’t live without him.
Gently, so as not to jostle you, Bucky sat down on the bed, though making sure not to touch you. You weren’t going to have any of that, though, so you reached across with your good arm and tugged him toward you until he was snug against your left shoulder. It hurt a little bit, but it was worth it to have him close.
Bucky looked down at where your left arm should have been, tucked underneath your hospital gown and hidden from view, as it was, in its sling. “I see you’ve come unarmed, doll.” He offered a weak smile.
You threw your head back and laughed, and it felt so good to feel good in his presence again. “You got jokes, Barnes,” you teased, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Speaking of jokes, what the fuck happened to your face?”
Bucky raised a hand to his face, gently poking at the swollen tissue. “Little gift from Stark,” he said. “For everything I put you through. Can’t say I didn’t earn it.”
You frowned, moving your hand up to gently caress his cheek. “He shouldn’t have done that,” you told him softly. Bucky looked down at you. “I deserved it, doll. I deserved that and so much worse, for everything I did to you. You almost died– fuck, you did die, and it’s all my fault. If I hadn’t let Carthage think there could be something between us, if I hadn’t led her on, none of this would have happened. You never would have gotten hurt, never had your heart broken. We’d be getting ready for our baby, and I wouldn’t have betrayed you over and over again–”
“Baby,” you said, putting your hand gently to his lips so as not to disturb the cut, “Stop. I’m not saying you’re blameless, but it’s not all entirely your fault, either. Carthage… Carthage had a mission, same as Soldat had missions. Maybe she wasn’t wiped the way you were, still had some control over her own mind, but she was programmed to want to get you just as surely as Soldat was programmed to kill. She would have come for me, no matter what, because I was an obstacle to that mission. It wouldn’t have mattered, I don’t think, if you had never spoken to her. I was always going to be in her way.”
“That doesn’t mean I didn’t hurt you, though. In so many horrible ways.”
The two of you sat in silence for a moment, each lost in your own thoughts.
“How’re you holding up?” he asked eventually, gently petting your hair. “And I mean mentally, not physically.”
You sighed. “Everything happened so quickly, you know?” Bucky hummed in agreement. “It was like: Boom! Chloe died! Boom! Lost a baby, almost died! Boom! Kidnapped, beaten up! Boom! Shot, almost died! It all still feels like it happened to someone else, and I haven’t really had a chance to let myself feel it, you know?”
Bucky nodded. “Yeah, I get it. But when it does hit, it’s going to hit hard, I think.”
“Probably,” you agreed. “I think I need to find a new therapist that’s not an A.I.” you told him. “Not that Tony’s program isn’t great– I just… Did you know Carthage hacked into my session feeds?”
Bucky’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Fuck. Doll, that’s an awful violation of your privacy. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s… she… she took what she learned about me from my sessions, and she used them to manipulate you, to hurt us,” you told him.
Bucky tensed beside you. “What do you mean?”
“Her ‘advice’ to you?” you said. “About what she liked in bed, to spice up our relationship?” Bucky nodded slowly, and you could tell he was ashamed with himself at the memory. “Well, she tailored it specifically with what she knew would be most upsetting to me, what would hurt me the most, so I would be angry at you, be the most hurt by you.”
Bucky swallowed, and you noticed his fists clenching next to you. “And I played right into it,” he said, shaking his head. He was furious; at both Carthage and himself, you could see that. “I was so fucking stupid; I didn’t see what she truly was until it was too late, and I let her play me like a fiddle.”
“You wanted a friend who understood you,” you said. Yes, you were still hurt by everything that he’d done, and you probably would be for a long, long time, but the truth of it was, now that you’d seen what Carthage truly was, had witnessed the depths of her manipulation of him, your anger toward him had significantly abated. Maybe you were being foolish. Stupid, naive. Maybe you were making all the wrong decisions, but your heart was always going to pull you back to Bucky Barnes. He was a gravitational force you just couldn’t escape. 
“I had friends,” Bucky argued softly. “I have you, and Steve, and fucking Big Bird. I didn’t need her. Why did I think I needed her, Pocket?”
You shrugged, taking his hand in yours. “Hydra had you for 70 years,” you told him, “and during that entire time, you were alone. Surrounded by people, but you were all alone. It makes sense that you would seek out someone who, based on what we all thought we knew about her, had been through something similar. I mean, how could any of us understand, really, what sort of horrors you’d gone through, when you don’t even understand all of them, yourself?
“She came packaged as this perfect counterpoint to you. And we know she was trained– educated, basically, in how to get to you. She basically had a Master’s degree in Bucky Barnes.”
Bucky snorted. “It’s still not an excuse for my actions, doll,” he said.
“No,” you began carefully, “it’s not. But it’s a mitigating factor that will be used in determining your sentence,” you said with a small smile.
“Have to say, sweets, I’d been fully expecting a life sentence of you never speaking to me again.”
“Yeah, that was what the jury was initially thinking, but upon further review of the evidence, they may be willing to bring it down to time served and supervised probation going forward.”
He looked at you, eyes blazing with hope, but almost instantly, his face fell. “Doll, how can you say that? I fucking slept with her! How can you still want to be with me after that?”
You sat up a little straighter, slowly this time, so as not to disturb your injuries. “Did you know Jade recorded the two of you?” you asked him carefully. “In the Russian safehouse?”
Bucky went pale and moved away from you. “No,” he whispered. “No, I didn’t know that. Oh God, Pocket– did she… did she make you watch it?”
You nodded, and Bucky put his head in his hands. “Oh, fuck. Doll. I am so sorry. I never wanted you to see that. It was bad enough that it happened, but for you to have had to witness it–”
“Buck,” you pulled his hands away from his face. “Buck, it’s okay. I’m glad I saw it, actually.”
Bucky looked at you with wide, disbelieving eyes. “What?!” he asked. “How… how can you be glad?! I cheated on you, I broke your trust– again! How can that make you anything but disgusted with me?”
“Okay, let’s take this one step at a time,” you said, repositioning your hands so you could interlock your fingers with his. “First of all, it wasn’t cheating. We technically weren’t together, so you could have slept with whomever you wanted to. I don’t love that it was her, but we weren’t committed.”
“It felt like cheating,” Bucky bemoaned. “I hated myself the entire time.”
“I appreciate that,” you said. “But you need to know that, while I did hate that you slept with her, I would have gotten over that, eventually. That wasn’t what I was upset about, after.” 
“It was the lying and not telling you what happened after I got back,” Bucky offered, and you nodded. “I didn’t get your messages about the articles until after I’d done it,” he said. “And I felt like the biggest fucking idiot. Of course you never would have done that to me. You’ve always been too good for me. I think I was projecting my own guilt onto you, and that was so fucked up of me. I was so scared of losing you when you were willing to give me another chance, I just ended up pushing you further away.”
“It doesn’t help that you had a snake whispering in your ear,” you said. When he looked at you, confused, you continued: “I’m not absolving you of all guilt, because you still had autonomy; you still made your own decisions, but I saw how she fed into your insecurities, in the video. How she played up your fears, and used them to manipulate you. How she took your anger and disappointment and used it to her advantage. I also saw how you had to think about me in order to get it up for her,” you added with a smirk.
Bucky blushed. “Caught that, did you? I don’t think Carthage did; though I wasn’t trying to be subtle about it, to be honest.”
“No,” you said with a smile. “She didn’t catch it, and she most certainly wasn’t happy when I pointed it out to her. Was quite pissed when I laughed about it to her face.”
“Oh God,” said Bucky. “That must have infuriated her.”
“How’d you think I got the broken arm?” you asked cheekily. 
“That fucking bitch,” Bucky hissed between clenched teeth. 
“It was worth it,” you assured him. “She took your pain at what you thought I’d done, and she twisted it, made you a victim. I’d break all my bones if it meant she paid for what she did to you.”
“I don’t understand how you can be so forgiving about all of this,” he said.
You snorted. “Would you rather I just cut you out of my life forever?”
“No!” Bucky looked up at you, alarmed. “Never– I just… I just don’t understand how you can be so… okay about it, after everything.”
You shrugged. “Well, I did die; certain things seem trivial, now. Maybe I’ve got, like, ancient death wisdom or something.”
Bucky wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Not funny,” he said, tugging you gently to him. “I’ve never been more scared in my life than I was when I thought I lost you.”
“I know,” you hummed. “You snapped Carthage’s neck.”
Bucky flinched. “I wish I could say I’m sorry I did that, but I’m not. I know I swore off killing a long time ago… but when it was you in danger? I don’t have any regrets. I’d do it again, even if it makes me the fucking monster everyone says I am.” 
“Thank you,” you said to him. 
“For what?” he asked. “Killing her?”
“For choosing me over her. When it really mattered.”
“Figured it was about time I started showin’ you I meant it, doll,” he said with a sad smile.
“And for what it’s worth,” you added, “I don’t think you’re a monster. I think you slayed one, and as far as I’m concerned, that makes you my hero.”
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ellieslaces · 1 day
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KISSING LESSONS.
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featuring: hazel callahan x fem!cheerleader!reader
synopsis: Hazel’s worst decision was to join her friend’s fight club, until she met you. or, really got to know you, she knew you, you just didn’t know her. she never thought a cheerleader, much less one of the prettiest girls in the school, would ever pay attention to her. until you did.
content warnings: harsh language; mentions of violence; internalized homophobia; light smut; kissing (wlw); so much loser lesbianism; some homophobic slang (faggot, munch)
notes: mentions of violence (duh, it’s lesbian fight club); mentions of reader being bisexual (more toward women tho); homophobic slang (faggot, munch, etc) ; there is no real smut in this as i do not write explicit content containing minors.
word count: 3.13k
chloe talks: watched bottoms and then hyperfixated on Hazel for two weeks before I decided to write this. God, I need her so bad. Chloe has a type doesn’t she? (soft mascs make me hhnngg). hazels so fucking cute I need her to kiss me ok bye. <3 (also, I hate the way this turned out, I’m so sorry it’s terrible)
now playing: kissing lessons ; lucy dacus
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Fight Club — a popular 1990’s film, that’s all those two words had ever meant to you. You’d never even seen the film, you just knew it was fucking gay, despite it not actually being about the hot topic of homosexuality amongst young men (or women, in your case). But, I digress.
It had been your friends, Isabel and Brittany, who managed to get your ass to attend your school’s resident Fight Club. A women’s Fight Club. How fucking gay. Oh well, it would teach you how to defend yourself properly. Which, in this day and age — or any day and age of we’re honest — is horribly necessary.
It shouldn’t be, but knowing how to beat the shit out of a grown man is something you should know how to do. Self defense isn’t a topic to be taken lightly, and it seemed PJ and Josie knew this.
PJ and Josie — or faggot #1 and faggot #2 as the school knew more endearingly — where the school’s resident ‘ugly and untalented gays’, as Jeff and his little crew liked to say. Really, you suspected they were all just pissed because the girls knew their way around a pussy better than any of them did. They wouldn’t know the clit if it slapped them in the face.
It had been about two weeks into the girls’ club that Isabel and Britany attended for the first time. They showed up to cheer practice the following day with busted lips and bruised faces. At first, you hadn’t known what happened. Maybe Jeff’s dramatics had finally gotten the better of him. But no, they had willingly gotten beaten up for the sake of learning how to better throw a punch.
Finally, after hours upon hours of begging and pleading, Britany and Isabel got you to attend a meeting. You had walked in, nerves wrecking your body as you trailed unsurely behind the two girls you considered your best friends. You trusted them, they wouldn’t let something bad happen.
You had planned to spend your first meeting simply observing, but PJ tried so hard to convince you to join in. She almost even pushed you into the fucking ring. When you finally conceded, you were face to face with Hazel Callahan.
You knew of her, but you didn’t know her. You’d passed her a few times in the hall, you had a science class with her. Jeff said she was another one of those ‘loud mouth munches’ — to which you nearly punched him square in the nose had he not been Isabel’s boyfriend and a complete moron.
Hazel seemed nice, she’d smiled in your direction when you walked into the gym. It was a nice gesture, no matter the awkward air it held. You felt sort of bad for putting her in the situation she was in, even though it was PJ’s fault that she now had to fight you.
You stood awkwardly, fists raised in a defensive position, eyes on Hazel as she stood in front of you. She smiled again, still awkward as it had been when you walked in. You were set on not getting the shit beat out of you.
As soon as PJ’s whistle sounded, you barely gave Hazel a chance to move. She’d shifted on her feet, sending a spark of fear through you, causing you to send a punch straight to her face. You’d gasped, watching her face scrunch up as her own hands flew up to cup her nose.
“Oh my God, I’m so fucking sorry.” You cried, stepping forward, ignoring the claps and cheers falling obnoxiously from PJ’s lips.
Hazel let out a choked laugh, brows raised as she held her nose. “No uh, nice hit. Fuck, that was a good one.” She blinked rapidly, momentarily lowering her hands.
You let out a small squeak as you saw that her nose was indeed bleeding. “Shit, your nose.” You stepped forward again, trying to find something to stop the bleeding. But of course, there wasn’t anything you had on you.
“Alright, Hazel’s fine. Let’s move on.” PJ droned, giving her whistle another sharp blow — she really abused her whistle privileges, you thought as you ushered Hazel toward the bleachers.
Hazel gave a thumbs up — her hand covered in blood that dripped from her nose — as she walked toward the bleachers. No one seemed to notice other than you as you walked with her. You felt so bad, so terrible because now this girl was bleeding because of you.
“I’m sorry,” you weakly apologized again, sitting in front of her on the bleachers, looking frantically around for something to give her to stop the bleeding.
“It’s okay, I’m okay.” Hazel shook her head, trying to convince you she was fine. Even though you both knew she wasn’t.
“Uh fuck, there isn’t anything — don’t do that.” You’d cut yourself off quick, voice deadpanned.
Hazel paused, her head half leaning backward as she looked over in your direction. Her ringed fingers pinched the bridge of her nose — it seemed she’d had the idea to lean her head back to stop the bleeding.
“Lean your head forward, not backward. If you go backwards, the blood could go into your lungs. Go forward and let it drip out.” You instructed, pulling her hand down gently by her wrist, moving to take off your cardigan so she could hold it below her face to catch the blood as it dripped.
“How do you know that?” Hazel questioned, brows pulled in a frown as she leaned her face forward so the blood could freely drip from her nose onto the bundle of fabric in her hands.
“I had to get a certificate to be able to babysit.” You shrugged, moving the strands of hair from her face without thinking about it. When you’d realized what you’d done, you froze, dropping your hand in embarrassment, muttering a sad ‘sorry’ again.
Hazel shook her head, not responding verbally to your millionth apology. Your cheeks warmed, suddenly so embarrassed for an entirely different reason. Not just for punching Hazel square in the nose, but you’d managed to embarrass yourself by noticing just how pretty she was.
Hazel sat on the bottom row of the bleachers in the gym, watching the rest of the group fight each other in turns, different girls winning. Some had busted lips, others a myriad of bruises spattered across their faces.
You took the time to notice just how pretty Hazel was — a sharp jawline that would make Jeff jealous, brunette hair that mussed in just the right way and looked so goddamn soft, her nose that was long and straight save for the small bump in the bridge that made your throat constrict. God, she really was a sight. How hadn’t you noticed sooner?
Maybe it was the fact that Hazel wasn’t in your social circle. You were a cheerleader, friends with Isabel and Britany, the focus of stares. Hazel was a loser — in the kindest and most endearing way — someone who wasn’t popular. Someone who had hardly any friends. And despite the fact that today was maybe the third time in your entire life you’d ever spoken to her, you wanted to be one of her friends.
A quick, sharp quip of PJ’s whistle brought you back to the present, her loud voice announcing the day’s session was over. You blinked, looking away from Hazel. Who somehow didn’t seem to notice you’d just spent the past five or so minutes just studying her face.
She turned to you, eyes apologetic as she held out your crumpled cardigan in her hands. “It’s really bloody, sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. You can keep it,” you shook your head, holding out your hand. It was only after the words came out of your mouth that realized how stupid that sounded. “I mean, it’s just, you don’t have to give it back. I don’t like it that much anyways. And it’ll probably stain. That sounds bad, I’m sorry.”
Hazel smiled a little at your words that seemed to stumble out of your mouth. You regretted every single one of them. You moved to take the cardigan anyway, acting as if you hadn’t told her to just keep it. But she pulled it back.
“I’ll wash it.” She said simply, standing. There were specks and smears of dried blood on and below her nose. You felt another pang of guilt then, seeing that your punch would definitely cause a bruise across her nose.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” You shook your head, standing as well. Isabel and Britany stood a few feet away, clearly waiting for you to come over. You didn’t want to though, for some reason.
“It’s fine. I’ll see you at the next meeting right?” Hazel asked, not relenting and continuing to hold the cardigan in her hands as she started to back away.
“Uh, yeah, I guess so.” You shrugged, somewhat embarrassed. You didn’t really want to come back. Not since you’d punched Hazel and made her bleed on your first meeting. But, maybe this would be a good incentive to come back. To see her.
“Cool,” Hazel grinned, nodding in your direction before she walked toward where PJ and Josie stood. You remained sentient for a moment, hands folded in front of your lap as you watched Hazel.
“Jesus, you hit hard.” Isabel’s voice rang in your ears as she and Britany approached, the latter’s eyes wide as she looked at your hand.
“Might want to wash your hands,” the girl motioned to your dominant hand — the knuckles were spotted in blood from where you’d punched Hazel and blood had immediately started to pour from her nose.
Your eyes latched onto the specks of blood on your knuckles, brows creased as you stared. Bright, rusty red adorned the skin of your knuckles, bits of Hazel Callahan’s DNA there. It was strange, but it made you smile.
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The attendance of the fight club had steadily grown — girls coming to the gym after school to brush up on their combat skills. All in preparation for the upcoming football game against Huntington. The fear ever since one girl had gotten attacked by one of the boys and word had gotten around about it.
So, attendance had spiked, the ‘female solidarity’ — as PJ liked to call it — had risen in the school, even the girls were kinder and nicer to one another. And your mind was muddled with constant pictures and thoughts of Hazel Callahan.
It was confusing — you’d never felt such a strong connection to someone you hardly knew. Hazel was as much a mystery to you as the rest of the ‘ugly, untalented gays’. Meaning she was a huge fucking mystery. Sure, you were vaguely aware that her parents had divorced, and that the girl mostly kept in the background in school. But other than that, Hazel was purely mysterious to you. And you found yourself wanting to know more.
To remedy thhs, you continued to attend fight club, naturally. Yes, you shared a class or two with the girl, but nowhere else did you have the chance to actually interact with her. To converse with her, hear her voice, see her smile. God, what a loser you were.
It wasn’t until two weeks later that you’d come to realize how disgustingly and embarrassingly obvious your infatuation with Hazel was. And what made it worse — it was PJ who brought it to your attention.
“Yo!” PJ’s obnoxious voice rang through the gym as you stood in the circle with the rest of the girls, watching Silvia and Brittany spar, your name on the girl’s lips as she spoke. “Quick eye-fucking Hazel and pay attention! Huntington is like, two weeks away.”
Your cheeks flamed a bright red as you sunk into yourself, shoulders curling in. God, you wanted a chance at PJ in that ring to strangle the fuck out of her for that. Your eyes quickly cut over to where Hazel stood — her own cheeks dusted with light pink as she avoided your gaze.
Great, now she probably wouldn’t talk to you at all. Fuck PJ and her obnoxious, loud mouth. Your embarrassment was not short lived as the fight club went on. You couldn’t look in Hazel’s direction at all as you waited out the meeting until its end so you could retreat with your tail between your legs and never show your face in this gym again.
It was as you shouldered your backpack, heart still racing, stomach still uneasy with embarrassment that you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You turned, eyes going wide as you were face to face with Hazel. Your eyes trailed down to a bundle of fabric in her hands.
“Sorry it took so long, but uh, I got the blood out.” She held out what turned out to be your cardigan. The cardigan that you’d leant her two weeks ago when you’d punched her too hard.
“Um, you didn’t have to do that.” You said, offering a sheepish smile as she held out the cardigan. You gingerly took it, eyes locked on Hazel’s face. As you grabbed it, you swore you could feel a spark when your fingers brushed against hers. A fucking spark — cliche but true.
It was silent between you two for a moment before Hazel shook her head, jutting her thumb over her shoulder. “Sorry about PJ. Things kind of come out of her mouth without her brain processing first.”
Yikes, Hazel meant the ‘eye-fucking’ comment. You offered a small, horribly obvious chuckle. “Yeah, I kinda noticed.”
There was another long stretch of silence between you and Hazel, your lips pulled to the side as you held the folded — she’d fucking folded it, Jesus she was adorable — cardigan in your hands. It was strange, but not too uncomfortable. Like that stupid thing from Pulp Fiction, the right person is someone that silence isn’t awkward with.
“I wasn’t eye-fucking you.” You blurted. Great, you made it awkward again. A small groan fell from your lips, head dropping as you closed your eyes with a frown. You shook your head. “Sorry, I dunno what’s wrong with me today.”
“PJ’s just jealous.” Hazel offered with a small laugh. How could one solidarity laugh sound so beautiful?
“Of what?” You asked gingerly, looking up to meet her eyes. For some reason, you were weary of her answer.
“That you aren’t giving her attention. Besides, I don’t think she’d know what to do with your attention anyway, you’re so pretty.” She said it not as an insult to PJ — or at least it didn’t sound like it — but more as an obvious fact. And you were stunned because Hazel had just called you pretty.
You were at a loss. A true loss. How the hell were you supposed to respond to that? So, like an idiot, you just stared at her blankly, eyes confused and wide.
Her own eyes went wide, brows furrowed as a worried look crossed her features. “Shit, was that too much? Too much. Fuck.” Her voice lowered as she cursed, brows knit together.
“No! Not too much, I just… I just didn’t think you thought I was pretty too.” You shrugged, quick to correct her. Quick to reassure that you were flattered and not weirded out.
“I mean yeah, of course I do.” Hazel nodded, her voice soft, words intentional like her statement was an obvious fact.
A smile spread across your face, cheeks warm again. You weren’t sure why, but you suddenly felt so much about Hazel. You’d never had a crush on a girl before. It was new and strange, but you definitely thought this was a crush.
“Thanks.” You whispered, eyes darting down to the cardigan in your hands for a moment before going back to looking up at Hazel. “For the compliment, and bringing back my cardigan. You didn’t have to wash it.”
“It’s fine, I wanted to. It’s a nice cardigan.” Hazel shrugged. It seemed she was at a loss for what to say around you too.
The gym was near empty by now — Josie and PJ chattering away in the far corner, and Isabel and Brittany waiting for you (but not paying attention to anyone but themselves) by the gym doors a few feet away.
So, due to the empty state of the gym and the disgustingly thick tension between you and Hazel, you stepped forward, pressing a quick and gentle kiss to her cheek.
This took the girl by surprise. Her eyes went wide as your lips pressed to her soft cheek. You leaned back, her brows creased as she watched you.
“Thanks,” you said again, with a shrug. Letting her know that was your way of thanking her. Small, but meaningful to you.
It was a long moment that you stood there, Hazel staring at you with wide eyes. For a couple of long seconds, you thought you’d fucked up. Misread the situation, mistook the tension for something else. But, you were proven wrong as she leaned forward, closing the distance between you by pressing her mouth to yours.
“You’re welcome.” She murmured as she leaned back, your eyes wide now from processing that Hazel had just kissed. That you’d just had your first girl-kiss. Fucking scary, but nice. You liked it. Liked her.
“I’ve never done that.” You whispered, blinking rapidly to ground yourself. “With, with a girl, I mean.” You corrected yourself almost instantly.
You’d kissed a guy or two before. Sadly, your first ever kiss was Tim at the ninth grade freshman dance. He was a bad kisser and you hated it. But, you liked how Hazel kissed. Despite it being a quick peck, it was full of intention and it was gentle too.
Hazel shrugged, a small half smile forming on her lips. “Maybe I can give you lessons.”
You grinned, laughing a little as you nodded, backing away toward the gym doors, needing to escape before you said anything else stupid. “Yeah, that’d be nice. I’ll send you my address.”
“Okay,” Hazel nodded, grinning widely to herself as you mentioned her coming over.
You almost skipped as you walked out of the gym, trailing behind Isabel and Brittany as the girls chittered away, the prospect that Hazel would be giving you fucking kissing lessons. You held the bundle of fabric close to your chest as you walked to your car. And it was then you noticed it smelled like Hazel. The detergent, obviously. But, there was something else that was just Hazel. And you never wanted it to go away. Maybe, you could wear it while she gave you kissing lessons that night.
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cre8inghavoc · 3 days
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What are friends for?
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PT. 11
Status: ongoing!!
Updates: no set date.
WC: 4300
Pairing: megumi fushiguro x FEM!reader
Genre/Warnings:[18+] Characters are aged up. This story contains toxic boyfriend, cursing, name calling, self-doubt/hate, angst, breaking up, post-breakup, alcohol, drug use, drunk moments, new friends, dating!au, college!au, no curses!au, dark humour, dark jokes. SMAU. Smut.
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Recap:
As Megumi is about to head upstairs, Itadori stops him and pulls him to the side with a serious expression. "Yo, Megumi," he begins, catching Megumi's attention. Megumi turns to face him, a hint of confusion showing on his face. "What's up?"
"You gotta tell her, you know…" Itadori's tone is firm, his eyes locked on Megumi's.
Megumi furrows his brows, trying to understand. "Huh? What are you talking about?"
"You know what I'm talking about, Megumi," Itadori insists, his voice dropping slightly. "I'm not stupid. I saw the hickey on her neck. I know it's from you. And I'm happy for you, man. I'm glad you're both talking again. But seriously, you need to tell her… or else things are gonna get fucked over again."
Megumi meets Itadori's gaze, his mind racing as he processes the gravity of the situation. After a moment of contemplation, he nods solemnly. "Yeah, I will." 
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"When is it happening? Is it your last one?" Itadori asks, his concern evident.
Megumi stares at him, his expression unreadable, before glancing at the time: 4:52 am. "Yeah, if y/n's asleep, then I'll go now," he replies, a sense of urgency creeping into his tone.
"It's your last time doing this... right?"
Megumi meets Itadori's gaze with a serious expression and nods silently.
He heads upstairs to his bedroom, his footsteps echoing softly in the quiet house. Slowly, he nudges the door open just a bit, sneaking a peek inside. There you are, lying so peacefully on his bed. Seeing you like that, he can't help but smile. He figures you're completely knocked out, just by the way your chest rises up and down slowly.
Carefully, he steps into the room, trying not to disturb you. He places a glass of water on the nightstand nearby, a small gesture to make sure you're comfortable. With your eyes closed, you expect him to climb back into bed and pull you close, but he doesn't. Instead, you hear him shuffling around in his closet, then the soft click of the door as he leaves. The room suddenly feels a bit emptier without him, a stark contrast to the warmth you were anticipating.
Fully awake now, you scan around the room, but Megumi is nowhere to be seen. Sensing something amiss, you quickly get out of bed and grab a sweater and sweatpants from his closet to get dressed in before leaving his room and heading to the stairs.
As you approach the stairs, you spot Itadori and Megumi standing in front of the house door. Intrigued, you're about to head down to ask them what they're up to until you overhear their conversation. "Just stick to the plan," Itadori says, prompting a flood of questions in your mind. Plan? What plan? You can't help but wonder. 
"Once you're done, send me the message, and I'll let Gojo know," Itadori continues, mentioning someone named Gojo. Gojo as in our Professor? The pieces of the puzzle aren't quite fitting together, leaving you confused and curious about their discussion.
"Got it. Thanks, Itadori," Megumi replies before stepping outside.
“Oh, and Megumi!” Itadori interjects before Megumi can step outside. Megumi turns around to face him, and Itadori hands him a small bottle. Megumi accepts it with a nod, tucking it into his pocket.
"Be careful," Itadori says, his voice carrying genuine concern and a hint of worry.
"I always am," Megumi replies, his smile offering reassurance. With that, he heads out, and Itadori closes the door behind him.
You've already made your way downstairs, and when Itadori turns to head up the stairs, he almost bumps into you, jolting back in fear as he wasn't expecting you to be there. 
"Y/N! Holy shit, you scared me," he exclaims, catching his breath. 
You look at him and then at the door behind him. "Where is Megumi going?" 
"Uh... he just went to grab something. He'll be back soon," Itadori replies, his tone a bit nervous. 
"At 5 in the morning?" you question, raising an eyebrow. 
"Oh yeah, you know he's an early bird...."
"Hm. Let's go follow him then," you suggest, moving toward the door. However, Itadori steps in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. 
"Let's not do that! He wants to be alone right now," 
"Don't be silly, Itadori! Come on," you insist, reaching for his car keys. But Itadori quickly snatches them from the table.
 "Y/n, seriously, let's just go back to sleep. He'll be back soon," he urges, his tone firm.
"Why are you being weird?" you ask, puzzled by Itadori's behaviour. 
Glancing down at the side table where everyone usually keeps their keys, you spot Toge's keys. You move closer to the door while Itadori is still in front of you, and notice him taking a step back every time you take a step forward. Slowly reaching for the door handle, you touch it and open the door. "Megumi's still here, maybe I'll go ask him," you say, tricking Itadori as he turns around to check. Seizing the opportunity, you quickly grab Toge's car keys and duck under Itadori's arm, running out the door and getting into Toge's car. You start up the engine, and hit the gas quickly before Itadori can even react.
Barely processing what happened, Itadori runs out the door, locking it and rushing to his car to follow you. "Fuck, Y/n, what the fuck," he breathes out, stressed, as he tries to catch up to you while you drive ahead.
You speed off, determined to find Megumi, and soon spot his car on the highway. "Found you," you mutter to yourself as you catch up to him, trying not to attract attention. There weren't many cars out at this hour, which was a relief considering your current state of intoxication. However, the lack of traffic also meant that any movement could draw unwanted attention. You tread carefully, mindful of the need to avoid attracting too much notice as you navigate the quiet streets.
Glancing in the mirror, you see Itadori's car right behind you. "Damn it, Itadori!" you curse under your breath, feeling the stress mounting. As he pulls up beside you, you both roll down your windows "Y/N, just turn back around!" he shouts, frustration evident in his voice. 
"For a minute, Itadori, please, just fuck off!" you plead, feeling the urgency to find out what Megumi is up to. With determination, you hit the gas, speeding up to overtake him. Spotting Megumi exiting the highway, you follow suit, trailing him into a mysterious town in the middle of nowhere. Realizing that following him directly might raise suspicion, you decide to turn off your headlights and make a discreet U-turn to enter the town. 
As you proceed cautiously, you notice Megumi's car parked ahead. Opting to stay inconspicuous, you pull over behind a building, grateful that Toge's car is black and less obvious in the dimly lit area.
You step out of your car, taking in the dimly lit surroundings. The neighbourhood is quiet, with not a lot of buildings in sight, most if not all of them are old looking. As you make your way toward Megumi's car, you're careful not to draw attention to yourself. 
Why on earth would Megumi be here?
You hide behind a tree, looking out into the sparse glow, spotting Megumi standing alone in the empty parking lot. You can't help but notice that Megumi has something covering the lower half of his face—maybe a mask? 
What are you up to Megumi?
You observe him lighting up something and bringing it to his mouth, while adjusting his mask just enough to inhale. Leaning against a nearby light pole, he seems lost in thought. 
Is he just here to smoke? Could this be what he and Itadori were talking about? his last time before he stops? But why this place, if that's the case? Is it one of his secret “spots” he goes to escape? 
You ponder these questions as your mind races. Suddenly, your attention is diverted as you notice another figure approaching, also clad in black with a mask covering half of their face. Megumi swiftly adjusts his mask back down over his mouth as he puts out the finished blunt under his foot.
What the fuck?
You watch as the two figures stare at each other, but their masks make it impossible to tell if they're talking. With careful steps, you get closer, trying to catch any snippets of conversation. It's hard to make out their words, but their gestures indicate they're definitely engaged in a discussion. Then, to your dismay, you see Megumi reach into his pocket and pull out something Itadori gave him earlier. Your heart sinks as you realize what it is. 
Is he fucking dealing drugs? 
What the actual fuck is going on.
Rage consumes you as you witness the scene unfolding before your eyes. You knew that you shouldn’t, knew it was dumb, but you couldn’t control the amount of anger propelling you forward. You dash towards them, unable to contain yourself any longer.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" you shout at Megumi, your voice filled with fury.
 His expression drops at the sight of you, and you can almost feel the weight of his thoughts. 
Damn it, Y/n, what the hell are you doing? he silently curses.
“What are you doing here?" he responds, his tone casual but his eyes betraying a simmering frustration. He's furious that you've stumbled upon this scene. You weren't supposed to witness this. Heck you weren't supposed to be here.
"You don't get to ask me what I'm doing here. What the hell are you doing here, and who the hell are you?" you fire back, your anger boiling over. 
You glare at Megumi and the stranger standing before him. Before Megumi can even respond, the man bursts into laughter. You exchange puzzled glances with Megumi, then turn your attention back to the stranger. 
"I knew I recognized you," he declares, pulling off his mask.
You stare at the man in disbelief. "Hey, sweetheart, missed me?" he says, winking at you before you snap back to reality, your shock quickly turning to fury.
"Haruta?"
"What the hell is going on? Why are you with my ex-boyfriend?" you demand, your anger escalating with each word. 
"Y/n, it's not what it looks like," Megumi begins, but you cut him off with a scathing retort. 
"Like hell it isn't, Megumi." 
Your ex continues to laugh, only fueling your rage. "It's exactly what it looks like, isn't it, 'Megumi? Dealing drugs?" he taunts, and you shoot him a venomous glare. 
"Shut the hell up, I'm not talking to you," you hiss, pointing a finger in his direction. 
"Oh, still fierce as ever, are we?"  Your heart pounds in your chest, his words dripping with mockery. Before you can react, he moves closer and grabs your wrist and pulls you towards him, his grip firm and unyielding. Panic surges through you as his arm snakes around your neck, trapping you in a suffocating embrace. You freeze, your breath catching in your throat, as his other hand reaches into his pocket, retrieving a knife. The cold metal presses against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. Paralyzed by fear, you can only gasp in shock, praying for a miracle to save you from this nightmare.
"Get your fucking hands off her!" Megumi shouts, his anger boiling over. Megumi's hand clenches into a tight fist, his nails digging into his skin with a ferocity that threatens to draw blood. His knuckles whiten with the intensity of his anger, a potent mix of fury and desperation swirling within him. The sight of you in danger ignites a primal rage deep within his core, fueling his resolve to protect you at any cost. Every fiber of his being strains against the urge to lash out, his muscles tensing as he struggles to contain the seething emotions coursing through him.
"Scared I'm gonna hurt your little girlfriend?" your ex taunts, provoking Megumi further. 
"Watch who the hell you're talking to," Megumi warns, his voice laced with more anger. Megumi takes a step forward, ready to intervene, but freezes in his tracks as he sees your ex move the knife dangerously close to your neck. The sight of the blade drawing blood makes his blood run cold, a surge of fear and anger coursing through him. He's torn between rushing to your defense and the fear of escalating the situation further. Helplessness washes over him as he watches you flinch from the prick of the blade, It's a gut-wrenching moment, and he struggles to find a way to keep you safe without making things worse.
"G-gumi," Your voice trembles as you manage to utter Megumi's name, desperation and fear lacing your words. As you lock eyes with him, you see the fear and stress mirrored in his own gaze.
"Oh, don't be like that, sweetheart," he taunts in a cocky tone, his grip tightening around you. "Why say his name when I'm the one holding you close to me?" His words drip with arrogance, a cruel reminder of your vulnerability in this precarious situation. You can feel the tension in the air thickening, his voice a chilling contrast to the fear coursing through your veins.
"What the hell do you want?" Megumi's voice cuts through the tension, sharp with anger. His words are a demand, a challenge to your ex to justify his actions. The intensity in his tone is palpable, a reflection of the protective rage burning within him.
"Why are you doing this, Haruta?" you manage to choke out, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. His grip tightens on you, a cruel reminder of your vulnerability.
"Oh, come on, I think Megumi knows exactly why." He says while glancing at Megumi. "And honestly, you, y/n, made it quite easier for me." His laughter echoes.
"You think this is funny? Some kind of fucking game to you, huh? "
Haruta's laughter dies down as he meets Megumi's glare with a serious expression.
"Oh? Isn't this all just a game to you too, Megumi?" Haruta retorts, his tone biting. "Being sent out by your father, isn't that right?" The accusation hangs heavy in the air, and Megumi's silence speaks volumes.
"What the hell are you talking about?" you demand, your confusion mounting, but Haruta just smirks in response. Desperate for answers, you turn to Megumi, searching his face for any sign of explanation.
"Megumi, what the hell is he talking about?"
But he doesn't say anything he just glares at Haruta, his silence only seeming to fuel Haruta's excitement.
"That little boyfriend of yours hasn't told you, huh?" Haruta chuckles slightly, his tone dripping with malice. "Let me get it in that little pretty head of yours, sweetheart,"
Before Haruta can continue, a new figure enters the scene, his imposing presence commanding attention. He's a towering man, muscular and intimidating, clad in a tight black shirt that accentuates his physique. His dark hair falls across his face, framing sharp features, and a scar mars the right side of his lip, adding to his rugged appearance.
"That's enough," he interjects, his voice low and authoritative, cutting off Haruta mid-sentence. His arrival casts a palpable tension, his gaze flickering between you three with a silent warning.
"Ahh, Toji Zenin," Haruta acknowledges with a smirk, his tone laced with a hint of amusement. As Toji approaches, his gaze fixates on you, a silent warning in his eyes.
But before he can reach you, Haruta brings the knife dangerously close to your neck again. "Uh uh uh," he taunts, his smirk widening.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Toji walks over to Megumi, offering a brief, reassuring pat on the back before casually leaning against him, his elbow resting on Megumi's shoulder. His gaze sweeps over both of you, his expression one of nonchalant indifference, as if the entire situation bores him.
Holy shit they look so alike...
Before you can process what's happening, Toji springs into action with lightning speed. In the blink of an eye, he rushes towards Haruta, shoving him away from you with a swift, decisive motion. With effortless efficiency, Toji traps Haruta in a chokehold, his movements fluid and precise. The suddenness of it all leaves you stunned, as if time itself has slowed to a crawl.
Gasping for air, you clutch at your neck, the sensation of Haruta's grip still lingering painfully. In an instant, Megumi is by your side, pulling you into his embrace with a fierce protectiveness. His arms envelop you, offering a sense of safety and comfort amidst the chaos.
"Hey, hey, hey, look at me," Megumi's voice is gentle yet firm as he lifts your head to meet his gaze. "You're okay," he reassures you, his words a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. It's only then that you realize tears are streaming down your cheeks, your emotions finally breaking free. Megumi's touch is tender as he brushes away your tears.
Megumi's gaze meets Toji's for a fleeting moment, a silent exchange of understanding passing between them. He knows they need to leave before things escalate further. Turning his attention back to you, Megumi's voice is gentle as he suggests, "Hey, let's go back to my car, okay?" Taking your hand, he leads you away from the tense atmosphere, guiding you both towards safety. Once inside the car, a heavy silence settles between you, the echoes of the recent events still lingering in the air.
"What the hell just happened?" you break the silence, the words tumbling out in a mixture of confusion and disbelief.
Megumi's grip on the steering wheel tightens, his jaw clenched with a mixture of anger and frustration. "I don't know."
"You weren't supposed to be here. You shouldn't have been here."
"Please… tell me what's going on," you plead, your voice filled with desperation. The uncertainty weighs heavily on you, the need for answers pressing against your thoughts like a relentless tide. You search his eyes for any sign of clarity, hoping to unravel the mysteries that have unfolded before you.
Megumi's gaze softens as he meets your eyes, a mixture of guilt and determination reflected in his expression.
"It's… complicated."
"I don't fucking care how complicated it is, Megumi," you exclaim, your voice laced with anger and frustration. "After going through all of that, I need an explanation. Why the fuck were you here? Why were you with my ex? What the hell were you doing?" Each word is punctuated by the weight of your emotions, demanding clarity and understanding from the chaos that has unfolded.
"These are things you shouldn't know, Y/n. Please, just drop it." It's a plea born out of a desire to shield you from the dangers.
But despite his words, you can't shake the feeling that there's more to the story, secrets hidden beneath the surface waiting to be unearthed. And as you stare into his eyes, you can't help but wonder what else he's keeping from you, what other truths lie hidden in the depths of his silence.
"I can't do this anymore. You're just like Haruta. Lying and keeping shit hidden. What the hell, Megumi? I'm done," you declare, frustration and hurt lacing your words as you reach for the door handle, ready to walk away.
But before you can open the door, Megumi's hand lands firmly on your thigh, his grip tightening to prevent you from leaving.
"Don't compare me to that piece of shit," he interjects, his voice filled with a mixture of anger and hurt.
"Then stop acting like him!"
"Y/n, I can't just tell you this shit."
"Why? Why the hell not?" you demand, your anger boiling over.
"I told you it's fucking complicated."
"I almost got fucking killed, Megumi. Isn't that good enough to explain what the fuck happened?"
"Angel, please," Megumi implores, his voice soft with a plea.
"I thought so. Bye, Megumi."
But before you can make your exit again, his grip tightens ever so slightly. "Angel," he says again, his voice carrying a weight of uncertainty.
"If I tell you this, you'll end up hating me," he continues, his words heavy with the weight of his fears. "You'll despise me, never want to talk to me again…"
"No, that’s not true…"
"You say that now, but you don't know… you don't know what I've done," he murmurs, his voice heavy with guilt.
Your heart aches at the pain etched across his features. "Whatever it is, we can work through it together," you reply, reaching out to gently touch his hand.
"Fuck… okay," Megumi begins, his voice heavy with the weight of his confession.
"My dad… he's not a good person, not anymore at least... It started when my mom passed away, happened when was young. Losing her took a toll on him, and he… he lost himself in his grief. He didn't know how to take care of me, how to be there for me."
He pauses, his words carrying a sense of pain and regret. "To cope, he turned to gambling. It started innocently enough, but it quickly became an addiction. And when money became short, he became desperate. That's when he turned to… other things... bad things," Megumi continues, his voice strained.
"He joined the family mafia, thinking it was the easiest way to make money. But their 'missions' weren't just petty crimes. They involved… murder. Not just anyone, though. They targeted important people, threats to the family or rival mafia members." The weight of his words hangs in the air, a stark reminder of the darkness that has tainted his family's legacy.
"But even that wasn't enough," Megumi continues, his voice growing quieter, weighed down by the enormity of his words. "He kept gambling, losing all the money he would make… And knowing he wasn't doing a good job at taking care of me, he… he sold me."
"He sold me to someone who took me in... Saturo Gojo."
"Wait… Saturo Gojo, as in our professor?" you interject, shock coloring your voice. Megumi simply nods in confirmation.
"But why are you with Toji now?" you press, your confusion deepening.
"Gojo got him locked up, but a few months ago, he escaped prison… and found me, he threatened to kill me, my friends, Gojo, if I didn't listen to his orders… So out of instinct, I complied. I didn't want any of them to get hurt."
"Why the hell would someone's father threaten to kill their own son? That's beyond messed up…" you exclaim, your voice trembling with disbelief and anger.
"He would tell me to sell these drugs to the people he's targeting so I could get their numbers, meet up with them when they want more, and then he'll come and… murder them."
"Wait… so, Haruta… he's… he's one of Toji's targets?"
Megumi nods solemnly, confirming your worst fears. "Yeah… Haruta was one of his targets," he admits, his voice heavy with sorrow.
"But… why? Why is he a target?"
"He's the son of one of the highest-ranking mafia leaders… He's killed many people before, and he was a big threat to the Zenin clan," Megumi reveals, his words heavy with the weight of truth.
"He what?!" you exclaim, your voice trembling with fear. The revelation sends a shockwave of fear and disgust through you, your mind reeling at the realization that your ex-boyfriend was not only a member of a dangerous criminal organization but also a murderer.
"This would've ended months ago… but he probably figured it out,"
"What do you mean? Figured out about the Zenins' attack?"
Megumi hesitates before continuing, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. "The first time I gave him drugs, it was at a party… My d—Toji—made me give him a blunt, but… he laced it with heavier shit. Like high amounts of fentanyl. That was his first attempt to kill him, but he didn't smoke it. So I tried plan B… I made him try cocaine… He did, and he got addicted."
"Wait… so his addiction started… because of you?"
Megumi's silence speaks volumes, the weight of his guilt evident in the downturn of his expression. "Yeah… I played a part in it," he admits, his voice heavy with remorse. "I didn't know what Toji had planned at the time… but I was still responsible for giving him the drugs."
"No, no, no, no, no,"
"Megumi…" your voice breaks slightly as you struggle to convey the depth of your emotions. "Do you not see how messed up this is?"
"I know… I'm so-"
"No! You don't understand," you interrupt, your voice tinged with frustration and pain. "You're the one who gave him the drugs. The drugs he got addicted to and tried making me do. That's when he became even more emotionally abusive." Tears well up in your eyes as you struggle to contain the flood of emotions threatening to consume you.
His heart shatters at your words, the weight of your pain crashing over him like a tidal wave. How could he have unknowingly contributed to the suffering you endured at the hands of your ex? The thought is like a knife to his heart, tearing him apart from the inside out.
"If I had known… If I had known you were a part of his life, I…" Megumi's voice falters, his words choked with emotion. He struggles to find the right words to express the depth of his regret, the overwhelming guilt threatening to consume him.
"I would have done things differently. I would have protected you, kept you safe from harm," he continues, his voice trembling with emotion. "I'm so sorry, Y/n. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted any of this to happen."
As he speaks, his words are a desperate plea for forgiveness, a fervent wish to turn back time and undo the pain he's caused. But he knows that he can never erase the past.
You step out of the car, your voice trembling with emotion, a sense of numbness washes over you. "I-I can't do this right now…" you murmur, your words barely audible.
"Y/n! Wait!" Megumi's desperate shout echoes in the air.
"Y/n…?" Megumi's voice softens as he steps out of the car, searching frantically for any sign of you. Panic sets in as he realizes you're nowhere to be seen.
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i have no words.
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TAGLIST <3
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yandereteentitans · 2 days
Text
Save Your Life
Summary: You save Robin, only because you don't want some lowlife criminals to kill him; That's your job Pairings: Robin x Villain! Reader [You could see this as another part to Don't Let Me Down, but not a direct part 2] [Short again]
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You weren't always watching Robin, even though he seemed to think otherwise. No one had time for something stupid like that- At least not with a million other superheroes/vigilantes running around that you had to keep an eye out for. The only person who seemed to always have an eye on Robin was Slade, but that was none of your business.
With that being said, there were times where you did do a little stalking on him. That's what lead to this situation-
---
He was going to die. Alone. Maybe it was how he was supposed to leave the world? He didn't know, but he didn't feel good. Though his life was about to get much worse. Especially when he saw a familiar face looking down at him.
He groaned as you crouched down to his level. His eyes may have been fucked up and bruised, but he could still see you; Annoying, troublesome you.
"Wow, you look like shit."
He huffs, but doesn't respond in any words. He couldn't fall asleep, because he doesn't trust you; Although, he couldn't stop his eyes from slowly falling.
You watch as he closes his eyes, as you examine his body. His clothes were torn and he was covered in cuts and bruises. You hoped you didn't encounter it. Though, it didn't kill him, so it couldn't have been that bad- Unless it was him...
You shook your head, before raising a hand to his face. A light glow emits from your hand, before it covers his face. You hear him groan again, but you decide to ignore it. His face slowly starts to heal, with the skin quickly healing over the cuts.
He groans again, but his eyes stay close. You stand up, slightly kicking him.
"Okay, buddy. You have to get up, I'm sure your idiot friends are looking for you. So, stop being a baby and get up; you're fine."
He only groans, causing you to roll your eyes. You look around, before clicking your tongue and looking back at him. You sigh, trying to decide what to do. But before you can make a decision, the world decides to make it for you and you hear voices- Their voices.
"I think he's over here, guys!"
You quickly crouch, before flying off, leaving him for his friends to find.
---
Robin awakes with his neck painfully stabbing him. He looks around to find himself in the tower. He didn't remember how he got there, but he did remember that you had helped him. Why did you help him? Maybe you were all that bad- No, he shook his head. You were evil just like the rest and he was sure you were trying to lower his guard. Though, if anything, this just made him more on guard.
There was a part of him though that knew you had caught him at his most vulnerable and instead of killing him you helped him. It was strange and he didn't like it. But maybe you were changing? He doubted it though. He knew you liked causing mischief, it seemed in your nature- So for you to change, it'd have to be a miracle. But, maybe one day you would change, and he could offer you a spot with the Titans. Anything could happened, he supposes, but not any time soon.
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