#he just wanted to share his work with those that loved him

[watchmegetobsessed]

EVEN IF IT TAKES FOREVER

A/N: aaaah im so excited for yall to read this!!! im kinda ashamed to admit this whole idea came from something i heard in an ep of milf manor but lets just move past that lol

WORD COUNT: 9k

WARNING: sexual content, toxic and verbally abusive relationship, cheating (not from Harry or Y/N)

SUMMARY: Harry Styles is used to get any woman he wants, everyone knows that. But when his interest shifts towards you, everything changes and he is ready to wait for you for as long as it takes, even when he finds out you're engaged to your asshole boyfriend. Not even that ring on your finger stops him from pining after you.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You don’t have to look up from the drink you’re making to know who just walked into the bar. It’s like the atmosphere of the whole place shifts instantly whenever Harry Styles appears, a sixth sense always triggers a siren in your head before your eyes could spot him crossing the space between the entrance and the bar. 

You’d be lying if you said you felt no excitement every time he shows up, the way your heart starts hammering in your chest is a great tell that he is anything but neutral to you, but you’ve been trying your absolute best to keep yourself under control. For one, he is known to be a flirt. Every woman in town knows that Harry loves three things, attention, pretty women and the combination of the previous two. You’ve seen him around with different partners every time, but never with the same twice. You heard the stories, the gossips and the whispers, how he shakes every woman’s world and then leaves, never giving the chance for anyone to even try to tie him down. This is not what you want or deserve.

And for two… You’re taken. Engaged, to be precise. 

When you spot Harry you instantly hide your hand behind your back, hoping the diamond ring won’t catch his eyes, because you know he would flip. 

Apparently, his latest fixation has been none other than you. He came into the bar about two months ago for the first time. He sat by the bar and clearly tried to flirt with you all evening, ignoring all the women who were brave enough to go up to him. He remained focused on you and as the evening carried on he became more and more blunt about his intentions with you. 

“So, are you coming home with me?” he asked when you walked out at the end of your shift. He was waiting by the back, leaning against his motorcycle. You were never blind, you saw how attractive he was then and you still see it now, but you just shook your head no.

“I’m taken.”

“You got a boyfriend?” He arched an eyebrow and you nodded. You expected him to give up, but instead, a devilish smirk took over his expression. “It’ll be even sweeter when I win you over, Angel.”

You were taken aback by his confidence and you were surprised when he showed up the next day, but got used to his presence quite fast. 

It became a sort of usual, have him walk in not long after your shift starts, he sits by the bar so he can talk to you, he drinks one or two beers and then asks if he could take you home once you’re done. You decline and then it starts all over again. 

An unexpected feature of his never dying attempts is that you’ve actually got to know each other during those long hours when he sat by the bar and entertained you while you worked and when he drops the cheeky act he is actually someone not just bearable but rather pleasant. You’d never admit it to him, but you kind of think of him as a friend, you’ve shared some things with him about yourself not many know. 

Like how you found out your boyfriend cheated on you. 

“You look stunning, as always, Angel,” he greets you as he takes his usual spot and you’re already pouring his drink.

“And you’re being flirty, as always,” you give him a knowing look, but he just smirks. You give him his beer and then move over to another man by the bar. 

When you return you notice the change in him and you know he saw the ring. As if you could still hide it from him, you cover it with your other hand, even though you did nothing wrong. 

“What’s that?” he asks, though it’s obvious he knows it’s an engagement ring. 

“Harry…”

“He proposed to you?” he asks, eyes snapping up to meet your gaze. 

“Yes, he did.”

“And you said yes?” He is clearly growing angrier by the second and you worry, because he tends to lose his temper easily. You don’t think he would ever hurt you, but he might take his anger out on something or someone else.

“Yes, that’s why I’m wearing the ring,” you say and try to keep yourself busy, moving the clean glasses in front of you around. 

“Y/N what the fuck?! You can’t be fucking serious.”

“I am and it’s none of your business,” you snap at him.

“The guy cheated on you!”

“Would you stop airing my private life for everyone?” you hiss at him, looking around to see if anyone has heard him. 

“Then explain to me how you are so stupid that you want to marry a man who doesn’t love you?!”

You’ve had enough. Checking if there is anyone waiting to be served you find no one so you walk out from behind the bar and grab Harry’s wrist, pulling him out through the back door to the empty parking lot behind the building. 

“Who do you think you are? You have no right to talk about me or my relationship like that!”

“Y/N, you are making a huge fucking mistake!”

“A mistake would be trusting someone about dating who has never stayed with a woman for longer than a couple of hours! What the fuck do you know about love or marriage when you can’t even stay until the morning when you fuck someone?”

It might be petty, bringing up his reputation against him just to invalidate his words, but he brought the worst out of you. 

“Because I don’t fucking lie to women about what I want! Your man lied right into your face and then only admitted to cheating when he was busted. You think he wouldn’t do it again? You think he is not doing it now? Cheaters don’t change, Y/N. He doesn’t fucking deserve you.”

“And you do?” you snap at him as your anger takes over your body. Maybe it’s because he brought up what Jeremy did or maybe it’s because he is lecturing you about something he has no right to stick his nose into. “Let me guess, I should ditch Jeremy and run to you? We fuck, have one great night and then leave me like you leave everyone, is that what I should go for? Is that what I deserve?”

He seems to be at a loss of words and that’s new. He probably wasn’t expecting you to call him out so explicitly, but it’s been building up for a while. 

“Do me a favor and stop trying to orchestrate my life. I’m more than capable of making my own decisions. Go and chat up another woman, fuck her so you stop trying to stick your dick inside me.”

You walk past him and straight inside, your rage doesn’t die down for a couple of long minutes. You take a few orders and then slowly get back to the workflow and manage to forget about Harry for a bit. When you glance towards his spot you see that his beer is still there, but he never returned. For a second you get uncertain, have you gone too far? 

No. He deserved it and everything you said was valid. It’s not your fault he can’t take the truth. 

Two days pass by and you see no trace of Harry. You find yourself looking at his usual seat from time to time and you mistake a few tall brunette guys with him, but he never actually shows up. You tell yourself you should be happy he is out of your hair, but somewhere deep inside you there’s still some disappointment that you try to push down every time it threatens to bubble up. 

Sunday comes and it doesn’t start off the best. Jeremy is in a mood all morning and he just practically picks a fight over anything you do. It’s whether what you cook, where you put the scissors or how you forget to lock the backdoor, he overreacts everything and by the time you’re leaving for work you’re a mess from all the fighting you’ve had. 

Being away from him is actually a bit of a relief, but your peace only lasts until he starts texting you and somehow you end up fighting again, this time about the outfit you wore to work. A simple black skirt with a white t-shirt, you’ve worn this before and he didn’t even notice, but today it seems like the skirt is too short for his taste and the shirt is too see-through. 

JEREMY: Enjoy the attention of every fucking men in the bar.

JEREMY: Congrats on being a slut.

You’re angry at him, but you’re also too tired to run around in circles. When he sets his mind on something nothing can change it, so there’s no use trying to convince him you’re not doing it to get other men’s attention.

You put your phone aside and ignore it for a while, but apparently, that wasn’t the right decision. Because the next time you check it you see a bunch of missed calls from Jeremy and another thread of texts.

JEREMY: Answer the fucking phone Y/N.

JEREMY: Are you fucking someone in the toilet? 

JEREMY: If I find out you fucked someone you’re dead I swear.

There’s only twenty minutes left until closing and the bar is almost entirely empty, so you step out to the back and call him. 

“Are you done fucking?” That’s what he says when he finally picks up. 

“Are you done being an asshole? I’m not fucking anyone!”

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that! I know you’re sucking dicks for tips, don’t even try to lie to my fucking face!”

He is vivid, shouting on the other end of the line and it’s making your head throb. You’re tired and you don’t want to deal with his unreasonable jealousy right now. All you want to do is go to sleep, but you know if you go home you’ll just continue from here. 

“I’m not lying, you’re delusional!”

“Stop with the fucking lies! Don’t fucking come home until you can’t admit the shit you’re doing! I will not have a woman lie into my face!”

“What the hell are you talking about? You can’t tell me not to go home, that’s my place too!”

“I’m sure you can find a place to sleep if you suck another dick.”

And with that the call ends. You’re staring at the screen in disbelief for several moments before the tears start rolling down your face. You lean against the brick wall and slide down as you let the sobs bubble from your throat. You try to call him again, but it doesn’t even ring. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you bury your face in your hands. 

You always kept telling yourself Jeremy has a temper and that he doesn’t mean it when he says these nasty things, but every time it happens again it gets harder and harder to believe that you could put up with it. You get that it roots in his jealousy, but he shouldn’t act like this with you, you know it’s not normal and yet… you still haven’t been able to do anything against it. 

You’re so buried under your pain that you don’t even notice the motorcycle that rolls into the parking lot and stops just a couple of feet away from you. Harry’s voice is what snaps you out of your spiral.

“Y/N? What are you doin–Hey, what happened?”

He rushes over and kneels in front of you, one hand on your back as the other lifts your head by your chin. 

“I’m fine,” you breathe out, as if he couldn’t see your tear soaked cheeks and bloodshot eyes. 

“No, you’re not. What happened? Did someone hurt you?” Seemingly he is trying to find wounds on you, but you shake your head. 

“It’s just… I-I don’t…” You can’t get the words out, it’s like your mind is blocked. 

“Come on, let’s go inside.”

He helps you up and you don’t protest when his arms curl around you and he keeps you close to his chest as he walks you inside. He pulls you to the stool he usually takes and makes you sit before walking behind the bar and pouring you a glass of water. 

“I need to close,” you croak and try to get off the stool, but he stops you.

“I’ll take care of it.”

You faintly hear him making the last few people in the bar leave and then the lock turns on the door before he returns and sits beside you. 

“Now tell me what happened.”

“I don’t want to talk,” you breathe out as you close your eyes. When you open them again, Harry is still there looking at you patiently. 

Then he stands and walks back behind the bar, grabbing a bottle of tequila from the shelf along with two shot glasses.

“Alright. Then let’s drink the pain away.” He pours the liquor into the glasses and then pushes one over to you, holding up the other one. For a second you just blink at him, a warning going off somewhere in the back of your head, but you’re quick to turn it off. 

Drinking the pain away actually sounds nice right now, since you can’t go home until Jeremy is having his episode. 

So you finally take the shot and you catch a tiny smile from Harry before you both chug down the alcohol. And soon more follows, at least on your side. 

About thirty minutes and three more shots later you’re definitely drunk. But at least you stopped crying and can actually laugh now, practically on anything Harry says. 

“Oh my God, stop!” you cackle, slapping your hand onto the bartop.

“No, I swear! I climbed out the window and fell straight into the jacuzzi!”

“Did her father see you?”

“No, I would be dead by now if he did?” he chuckles.

“I can’t believe you were such a playboy even as a teenager!” you keep laughing. 

“What, are you surprised?” he cheekily asks.

“Honestly, not that much,” you snort and reach for the tequila bottle, but Harry pulls it away from you. “Hey!”

“Maybe let’s slow down a bit, yeah?” You pout at him, but he just grabs a normal glass from behind the bar, fills it with water and hands it over to you instead. 

“What, you’re not up for a bit of fun?” you grin into the glass, but take a few sips anyway. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“I do want to have fun with you, Y/N. But I’m also concerned at how fast you downed those shots,” he admits smirking. 

“Ah, how sweet of you, as if you don’t just want to take me to bed,” you scoff, but you didn’t mean it in a bitter way this time, like before. “Isn’t it tiring?”

“What is?”

“Ah, don’t make me say it!”

“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about, Angel.”

“Angel!” you groan and then let out a sigh. “Aren’t you tired of running after me? I mean, you’re used to getting your way with women. Honestly, I thought you’d stop by now.”

Harry just stares back at you and it gets intimidating, especially when a smirk curls the corners of his mouth up. Your cheeks already feel quite hot, but now they are burning. You always hated how bothered he could get you despite all your effort to reject him in every possible way. 

Just when you think he’d ignore what you said forever, he finally speaks up. 

“Would you believe me if I said it’s because you’re different?”

“Oh no, don’t give me this bullshit!” you scoff and then just laugh it off. You change position on the stool and try to cover up just how much his words affect you. 

Because it might have been the corniest thing you’ve heard from him, but you’re also just a girl who’s a hopeless romantic and this is exactly the stuff that can turn you into a giggly mess in a heartbeat. 

“Why is it your first instinct that I’m just bullshitting you, Y/N?” he asks, but he is not at all accusing, more like curious. You purse your lip, but decide not to say anything, just sip on your water. Harry walks out from behind the bar and takes the stool next to yours. “I think you don’t know your real worth, Y/N.”

“And you do?” you roll your eyes at him teasingly. 

“I would love to, but as long as you don’t let me get closer to you, I can only work with what I see. I know you probably think I’m just lying to get into your pants, but if there’s one thing you should know about me is that I’m always telling the truth. I’d been lied to before, many times and I know what it does to you, so I would never do the same to you or anyone.”

“Is this your way of buttering me up?” you smirk, but narrow your eyes at him. Your wording makes him laugh. 

“Of course.”

“Ah, you are so smooth, I hate that about you! And I hate how handsome you are.”

Oops. That’s definitely the alcohol talking, you’d have never admitted that to him sober. You catch the surprised smirk on his face and you immediately regret opening your mouth. 

“So you think I’m handsome, huh?”

“Oh shut up! I can see your head getting big!” You point at him, but he grabs your hand in the air and tugs at you gently, just enough to make you hop off your stool and fall towards him. He catches you by the waist as you end up between his legs, your hands end up on his chest as you try to find your balance. 

“I would love to hear you say how handsome you find me, but just know, that you’re playing with my self restraint.”

Even despite the shots, you can feel the switch, your breathing becomes shallow and you make the mistake of letting your eyes move down to his lips for a moment. His fingers dig into your waist and though you know you should move your hands, you love how you can feel his warmth under your palms. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened earlier? Why were you crying?”

“Jeremy,” you say in a whisper. 

“Did he hurt you?”

“Just… with his words.”

“That’s still not okay, don’t downplay it. What did he say?”

A small voice in you is telling you not to tell him more, but his undivided attention and care towards you feels so good, it’s something you haven’t experienced in a while. Jeremy is different, he is not the soft type and though you’ve been telling yourself it’s fine, you can’t deny how much you’ve been craving this kind of connection with someone. 

“He accused me of cheating, that I… I suck people off for money.”

Harry’s hands stiffen on your waist, but he stays silent and gives you the chance to talk. You can feel your throat closing up again and your instinct is to close up, but you want to take this weight off your chest in any way possible, so you don’t hold yourself back. 

“It wasn’t the first time he flipped, sometimes he just… loses his mind and takes his frustration out, often on me.”

“Has he ever hit you?” Harry asks in a somewhat cool tone, but you can tell he is holding a lot back. 

“No,” you shake your head. “But his words… He called me a slut tonight.”

Harry exhales sharply and you see his jaw jumping. Your reasonable self is pounding down the door of the room you shut it into, but you blatantly ignore it as you push closer to him. It’s your first time being this close to him physically and you want to hate it, you really do, but truth is you feel yourself being pulled towards him and you’re just too tired and weak to fight it. 

When one of his hands moves to cup your cheek you’re ready to give in. You part your lips and give him an unmistakable look and you expect him to take advantage of the moment, but he surprises you by turning his head to the side with a heavy sigh.

“Is it not what you want?” you ask quietly, trying your best to ignore just how rejected you’re feeling all of a sudden. 

“You know it is,” he replies, turning back to face you. “I want you more than anything.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He shakes his head and your stomach sinks. You try to pull away, but he keeps you caged against him. 

“Hey, look at me.” His hand captures your chin to make you look at him, but you keep your gaze away from him. “Y/N, look at me,” he pleads again and you give in at last. 

His thumb slowly runs across your bottom lip, making it tremble from the intimacy of his touch. 

“This is all I’ve wanted since I first saw you and it’s taking everything in me not to take it. But I know you and I know that you would regret it. I would never put you in a situation that could hurt you.”

You hate how right he is, how well he knows you. 

“So considerate, respecting the… bro code and everything,” you huff, hoping to break this weird mood that’s lingering around the two of you now. Harry’s head falls back as he laughs. Then he grabs your hand that has your engagement ring on and with a confident move he takes it off, throwing it over his shoulder and you just watch with your mouth hanging open.

“I give zero fucks about the bro code, especially if it’s about that asshole you call your fiancé.”

“Did you just–”

“What I do care about is,” he continues, “you. And how you feel.”

Your mind is racing but also blank at the same time. You just stare back at him, eyes drooping as the alcohol is starting to wear you out. 

“So what, you’re just gonna wait around, hoping I will wake up one day and leave Jeremy for you?” you ask jokingly, but his answer comes in a serious manner.

“Exactly.”

There are a couple of seconds when the two of you are just staring back at each other and you swear you can see the universe in his green eyes, the past, the present and a future together and as much as it scares you, it also starts a fire somewhere deep in your chest. 

“Can you–um, can you give me a ride to my sister’s place?” Clearing your throat you pull away and this time he lets you. 

“Sure.”

You sit on his motorcycle behind him, arms wrapped around his torso tight as you watch the night lights pass by, blinking lazily, his scent filling your nose every time you press your cheek against his back. When he stops in front of your sister’s apartment’s building you almost ask him to just drive for a bit more, but you force yourself to let go of him and climb off the motorcycle. 

“Thanks for… everything, I guess,” you awkwardly say while he is still sitting on the bike. 

“Take an Advil before you go to bed.”

“Okay, stop babying me,” you laugh and he finally breaks into a smirk. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

It’s a simple question, but the obvious hidden question is right there, out in the open. It’s your way of asking if he’ll be returning to the bar despite the fight you had a few days ago. 

“Of course. Keep my seat open.”

Nodding you’re about to turn around and walk inside, but he calls after you.

“Y/N?” You look over your shoulder, waiting for him to continue. He opens his mouth, then closes before actually speaking up. “You don’t have to believe that my interest in you is genuine. I will gladly prove it to you any way possible, but… Maybe you should look at Jeremy with the same criticism as well.”

You have no idea what to say so you just nod and then keep walking until you’re inside the building, but you stay leaning against the door until you hear his motorcycle roar up and fade into the night. 

You’d love to say that after the night with Harry at the bar everything changed, but that’s not true. The next day you went back home, Jeremy calmed down by then, you had a fight nonetheless, which ended up with some makeup sex, but your head was somewhere else.

Or with somebody else.

Then it all went back to the same usual. Harry was there at the bar the next time you were working and luckily he didn’t bring up anything that happened that night. Not what you said about Jeremy, not that you practically admitted being attracted to him and not that you gave him the green light which he rejected. It’s all locked up in a box and put aside. 

However you can feel a slight change in yourself. Harry’s words did stick with you and have been on repeat ever since. 

Maybe you should look at Jeremy with the same criticism as well.

You and Jeremy have been together for over three years and moved in together a year ago. You can’t really remember a time you haven’t been with him. You do know that he is not perfect and the shit he pulls sometimes… 

You’ve thought of leaving him before. It did occur to you that maybe you’d be better off without him when he flipped in the past and turned crazy out of the blue. But every time it happened, he went back to his sweet old self, the one you fell in love with. 

But are you still in love with him?

One day, about a week later Harry waltzes into the bar, but he is not looking his usual, confident self. 

“Okay, hear me out before you say no,” he starts as he takes his spot while you’re drying off some glasses. “I know you might find it hard to believe, but I have friends.”

“We are off to a great start,” you chuckle.

“My best mate, Mitch, he lives two hours away so we don’t meet that often, but he is in town this weekend.”

“Good for him,” you smile, curious about what will come out of it.

“And we were talking about what we should do and all that and I made a mistake. He suggested this club we could check out and said we should meet there at nine but I asked him to make it ten thirty, because on thursdays you finish work at ten.”

Your hand stops mid-motion and you put the glass down, giving him a curious look as you tilt your head to the side. 

“Obviously he wanted to know who you were and I swear I told him we have nothing going on, but he is just so stubborn, he didn’t let it go until I promised I would ask if you wanted to come with us. So here I am, I asked, you can just ignore it and tell me to fuck off. I know you probably wouldn’t want to spend the night in a random club with me and my friend and his wife, so if you just–”

“I’ll go with you.”

Your reply surprises him the most of course, but yourself as well, though you don’t let it show. You spoke before you could think it through and not that it was said out loud and you can’t take it back… You don’t really mind it at all, to be honest. 

“Are you trying to mess with me right now?” he asks, leaning closer, examining you with a narrow-eyed look. 

“No. I haven’t gone out in forever actually, so I would love to.”

He stares back at you for a long moment, looking for any sign that might tell him you’re just joking, but when he sees none, he decides it’s better to just accept it. 

“Okay. Okay, then… I’ll, umm… I’ll pick you up after work?”

“Sure.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you say after him, feeling entertained that you could surprise the always so confident Harry Styles. “So tell me about this friend of yours. Is he hotter than you?”

His expression changes in an instant, the cockiness returns and there is the man you know and…

“He wishes,” Harry laughs. “I met him through work.”

The apartment is silent when you arrive home that night. Jeremy is working the night shift so you have the place for yourself until he comes home at around four in the morning. The bed is unmade in the bedroom, the plates he used during the day are in the sink and the hamper is full of his clothes. It’s all waiting for you to get everything done even though you work just as much as he does. It wasn’t always like this, you remember the honeymoon phase when he would cook for you and then clean up after, when he would bring you flowers for no particular reason.

When he would actually act like someone who loves you. 

With a heavy sigh you get to work even though you just finished. When the dishes are done and the washing machine is loaded you finally sink into the couch and just sit in silence for a bit. Right until a buzzing sound interrupts your peace. Only then you notice that Jeremy left his phone on the coffee table. 

Grabbing it you check the screen and see that one of his buddies is calling. The name flashes and you wait for it to stop. When he does, you just keep holding the phone, staring at your own reflection in the black screen. 

Jeremy never lets his phone out of his hands, he takes it with him into the bathroom and he is always on it. Tapping on the screen the device comes to life and asks for a password. He never felt comfortable using  face ID or his finger print, so he only uses a password to lock it. What he doesn’t know is that you’ve seen him type it out so many times that you actually figured out what it is. 

No, it’s not your name or the date you met. It’s his favorite line of his favorite movie. 

I am Ironman.

Before you could think twice, you type it in, no space, capital I in Ironman and then the phone unlocks. A rush of excitement washes over you as you open the messages in an instant and start scrolling through them. 

Texts from his dad, from his boss, from his friends and texts from…

Andrea.

And Penelope.

And Bella.

And Riley.

Unmistakable messages, photos and even voice memos. It’s all there and you just keep scrolling and reading and it feels like it never ends. When you get to the end of one thread you find another. It’s not just one woman, but about a dozen. Not even you can turn a blind eye over it this time.

But surprisingly, you don’t feel like you want to scream or cry or punch the wall. Instead, you just put the phone back where it was, walk into the bedroom, grab a bag and start packing some stuff you’ll need for the next few days. When you’re done you walk into the kitchen, grab a paper and leave him a note. 

You have two days to move out. Take your shit and move to Andrea or Penelope or Bella or any of your bitches. Goodbye. 

Then you take the ring off your finger, place it next to the paper and walk out.

Harry wasn’t sure what he expected to see when he arrived to pick you up after your shift. He thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he has ever seen even when you’re wearing a stained shirt after a long day, so it really doesn’t matter to him what you wear.

But when you step out through the back door in your skin tight black dress that’s top sheer enough to tease him with a peek of your black bra underneath. 

“Are you gonna just stand there and stare or are we gonna get going?”

He opens his mouth to say something, but then he just shakes his head with a laugh as you finally reach him by his bike. 

“Let’s get going.”

You hit it off with Mitch and his wife Sarah instantly. It’s like you’ve always known each other and you can’t tell if it pisses Harry off or he just likes to be the victim every time the three of you make a joke at his expense. 

Even though it’s a Thursday night, the club is pretty busy, but not the kind that makes you want to crawl out of your skin, because someone is always touching you wherever you go. Harry however stays close to you no matter what, like a guard dog, watching your every move. 

It’s giving you butterflies. Especially because he is doing all this even though he doesn’t know about your little secret you will share with him, but you’re waiting for the perfect moment. 

You start off in a booth, having a few drinks, talking and having fun and when the DJ starts playing songs that are just too irresistible you and Sarah drag the men to the dance floor. They try to protest, but it doesn’t last long. As gruff as Mitch can look, it’s obvious he is whipped for his wife and would do anything Sarah asks him. 

And Harry… Well, the moment he sees you moving to the beat he practically glues himself to you. Though dancing is not your biggest strength, you can definitely follow the rhythm and move your body in a way that’s appealing to the male gaze. 

You can tell Harry is trying to keep his cool, but the more he holds himself back, the more you push his buttons. Touching him while dancing, moving in a way that obviously makes him struggle, pressing up against him and then you pull out the big guns when you start grinding on him, when you have your backside pushed against his front. His hand on your stomach twitches when your ass meets his crotch in a not-at-all innocent way and you hear his groan even over the loud music. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N,” he speaks into your ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps down your spine. You turn your head and your lips almost brush against his as you look at him innocently.

“Not having fun, Harry?”

“You’re teasing me.”

“Do you not like it?” You turn around to face him easier, but press your front against his to keep the physical contact on the same level. 

“Y/N, you’re… taking it too far,” he warns you, but it just urges you to keep pushing his boundaries. You’re enjoying this way more than you probably should but you are giving yourself the satisfaction this one time. You’re not afraid of asking for his forgiveness later, because you have a feeling he will gladly give it. 

“Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, but I might if you don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop what?”

“Acting like… you’re trying to seduce me.”

“I can’t do that? Why?” It finally brings him to the point where you wanted him to be.

“Because you’re engaged and I’m–” he snaps, but you don’t let him finish.

“Except I’m not.”

You both have stopped moving in the middle of the dancing crowd and Harry is staring at you as if he just saw a ghost. Slowly, you raise up your hand and show him your naked fingers. Reaching up he grabs your hand as if he had to physically touch your ring finger to make sure the ring is not there anymore. 

“I ended things with Jeremy and he moved out. I’m single.”

His gaze keeps flicking back and forth between your eyes as he just keeps staring at you, it seems like you broke him and he forgot how to function, but then his expression changes and you read it perfectly. 

It’s not enough for him that you and Jeremy broke up. He wants you to give him the green light.

You look down at his lips and think of all the times you fantasized about kissing them and the guilt you felt every time, but now it’s nowhere, pure desire took its place and you’re ready to give in. 

You move a hand to the back of his neck and push yourself up, making that first move, but Harry is quick to take over from there. He moves fast as his lips crash down on yours, finally kissing you with the heat of his months long pining and never dying persistence. 

You’ve had your fair share of passionate moments in your life before, but nothing compares to the way Harry practically devours you, he’s demanding, dominant and rough, but the more he takes from you the more you’re willing to give until he has everything in you. His hands are holding your face firmly, tilting your head in the perfect angle for him to greedily kiss you until your lips are numb and you’re gasping for air. And when you can’t keep up with his hunger his mouth moves down to your neck, kissing, biting and sucking shamelessly as if you weren’t on a dancefloor at a club. He has one hand move from the back of your neck into your hair, giving it a gentle tug while his other hand makes its way down your body, your ribs, your waist and then it stops on your ass, squeezing it without remorse, earning a moan from you that just riles him up even more. 

For a split second you’re convinced he is about to fuck you right then and there in front of all those people. But to your surprise he pulls back, his hand wraps around your wrist and he starts pulling you out of the crowd. At the side he finds Mitch and Sarah dancing and he leans close to his ear. You don’t hear what he says, but judging from the smirk and the way Mitch nods, he didn’t try to sugarcoat anything. 

You don’t even get to say goodbye properly, Harry lets go of your wrist, but his arm is quick to curl around your waist as he leads you towards the exit. The cool night air feels refreshing after the heat inside the club, but you don’t get to enjoy the change, Harry is eagerly pulling you towards his motorbike and when you reach it he pushes you against it before kissing you hard again. Your ass is pressed against the seat and for a moment you think it’s about to fall over along with you, but it stays steady while Harry is having his way with you. Then he just simply pulls back and helps you up, making sure you’re holding onto him tightly. 

“This will be the longest ten minutes of my life,” he says, making you laugh as he starts the motor and moments later you’re speeding down the streets. 

It really is an excruciating ten minutes until you arrive at your place, especially because you keep squeezing your thighs against his, giving him a rather hard time and every time you have to stop at a red light, Harry’s hands are quick to find your naked legs, roaming them shamelessly until he has to hold the handles again and focus on the road. 

As soon as he parks in front of the building and you get off the bike, he is back to focusing all his attention on you, so it’s a challenge to even make it up to your apartment. His hands are mapping up every inch of your body and he takes every chance to kiss you on the lips, neck or shoulder, making it almost impossible for you to even open the front door, but at last you manage and he is quick to shut the door and then push you up against it. 

But he is not kissing you this time, instead he looks at you with such passion and tenderness at the same time, it makes your whole body shiver. 

“Tell me no at any point, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper as a sudden nervousness washes over you. You are not nearly as experienced as he is and sex with Jeremy had been more about his quick relief rather than something you both could enjoy the same amount. 

“Hey, we don’t have to do anything tonight. Holding you is more than I even hoped for tonight,” he admits with a chuckle and he gives you a short, soft kiss. 

“I want to. I just… I’m afraid I won’t be… good enough.”

You’re nervously fidgeting with the neck of his shirt while his hands are plastered to the door behind you either side of you, keeping you caged in with his body. 

“Angel, you had me running after you for two months and the past weeks felt like the longest foreplay of my life,” he chuckles. “I should be the one being nervous about coming in ten seconds.”

You can’t help but crack a smile at his words and he did ease your nerves a bit, but you’re still worried. With one hand he caresses the side of your face so softly, you almost question if he is the same man who was groping your ass not long ago in a packed club. 

“I doubt you could ever not be good enough for anyone but especially for me.”

Your inside melts and there are no words that could describe the way he is making you feel. But instead of talking, you push yourself against him and kiss him, urging yourself to overcome your insecurities so he doesn’t regret choosing you. 

You manage to hype yourself up so well that when you reach your bedroom you pull away and make him stop at the edge of the bed as you stand just a few feet away from him. His eyes roam up and down your body with such hunger you have never seen from a man before and it gives you that last boost to step your game up. 

With slow, teasing movements you start to pull your dress up, revealing more and more from your legs, than your underwear and when the fabric is bunched up around your waist you cross your arms, grab the hem and pull it up and over your head before dropping to the floor, all while Harry is eating you up with his eyes, sitting there with the smuggest smirk on his face as he watches you like he is in a movie theater. 

“Fucking perfect. Come here,” he holds a hand out that you take and he pulls you between his legs, placing your hands to his shoulders as his palms slide to the back of your thighs. He places a few open mouthed kisses to the swell of your breasts before his hands squeeze your thighs, urging you to move your legs and make you straddle him. As you climb to his lap he captures your lips in a toe curling kiss and he catches you by surprise when he flips the two of you over and throws you into the mattress. 

He straightens up but just enough to get rid of his shirt, revealing even more tattoos you haven’t seen and a toned chest with abs you’re already burning to touch, kiss or lick. Or all of these above. He comes back down on top of you, his lips return to yours while his hand easily slides underneath you, unclasping your bra and seconds later he is throwing it across the room before his mouth starts moving down your neck, collarbones and then to your chest. You rake your fingers through his hair as his tongue swirls around your nipple and you gasp when he gently bites and tugs on it, flashing you a cheeky smirk when he looks up at you before he keeps moving down on your body. When he reaches your underwear he takes the elastic between his teeth and tugs on it then lets it go so it snaps back against your skin, making you gasp and give him a protesting look, but it just makes him chuckle. 

“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t wear it for me,” he mumbles against the lacy fabric, skimming it with his lips. 

“I did, but not to have you play with it,” you breathe out, however you quite like how playful he can get even in such a heated moment. This is a side of him you’ve gotten to get just a glimpse of but you’re getting the full ride now. 

“Alright. Next time then,” he shrugs and hooking his fingers into the elastic he tugs it down as you lift your hips up and soon it joins the rest of your clothes on the floor, leaving you fully naked in front of him. But before you could worry about your looks, his mouth is already on your throbbing clit, making you forget about your whole existence. 

He turns you into a whiny mess with his lips and tongue in just seconds and when he adds his fingers into the equation all you can do is repeat his name like a prayer to all powers above. You’ve never experienced anything like this, not that anyone you’d been with did it the way Harry is. Before you could even process what’s happening you’re coming on his face and he is licking up every drop of it in every possible sense. 

Your body already feels like jelly when he moves back up and he kisses you with your own taste still on his tongue, but he is not even nearly done with you. 

He kneels up and unbuttons his pants and then pushes them down along with his boxer briefs so now you’re looking at just how good enough he is finding you. You can’t take your eyes off his erection, it’s big, rock hard and the tip is glistening from the precum. It’s like the sight has turned on something inside you, because before you could have a second thought you’re moving until you’re on your knees as well, hands wrapping on his cock. Harry moans at your touch and a triumphant smile stretches across your lips as you lean down and don’t stop until your lips are wrapped around the head. 

He sits back onto his heels, eyes glued to you as you struggle to push further and further down his length every time your head bobs down. You’re far from taking his whole cock, but every time you go down again and again he keeps praising you. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.”

“Look at that mouth, taking my cock so well.”

“That’s it Angel, you make me feel so fucking good.”

You don’t stop until your jaw is sore and when you finally come up he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you hard, pushing you back onto the mattress as he lands on top of you again. 

Half blindly, you reach towards the nightstand and into the drawer, grabbing a condom and handing it over to him. You’d love to be the one to roll it onto his cock, but your hands are starting to shake from how much you want to feel him inside you already. 

Once the condom is on he lowers his hips between your legs and you feel his length wedge between your drenched folds. He moves his hips back and forth a few times, coating his length in your arousal before reaching down between your bodies and grabbing himself by the base. 

“As much as I want to take you in every possible pose, I meant that I might not last long,” he chuckles as the head is already teasing your center. “But I won’t stop until you come again. And I’ll have all my fantasies played out next time.”

Next time. These two words make your heart jump, knowing that he is planning to have a next time and you’re still thinking about that when he finally thrusts forward and into you, filling you up inch by inch until his whole length is buried inside you. 

He stills for a few seconds, maybe to let you get used to his size or maybe to regulate himself enough to last longer, you don’t know for sure. But then his lips capture yours again and he starts moving. His hips are rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm and when you hook your legs around his waist he picks his pace up and his thrusts become a bit rougher than before, but it’s just what you needed. 

Your second orgasm is already building up in the pit of your stomach and you claw at his back as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his moans getting muffled by your heated skin. You feel his muscles flex on his back and you can tell he is close, but he is fighting to hold back for you.

He lifts his head and rests his forehead against yours, keeping his rhythm steady and you see the struggle in his eyes. 

“I’m close,” you breathe out and he nods with an almost torturous look. “Let it go, Harry, I want to feel you come.”

“Not until you—”

“That’s what I need,” you urge him and he moans before he thrusts forward harder than before, he stays still for a moment, gasping for air as he pulls back and slams into you again, riding out his own orgasm that quickly triggers yours. 

Seeing him fall apart because of you is all you needed. 

He keeps moving for a while, but his thrusts become sloppier until they come to a halt. His whole weight is pushing against your body as your hands are lazily dancing up and down his sweaty back. You feel his heart hammering against your chest and listen to how his breathing slowly steadies before he rolls off of you. Moving with him you curl up against him, your head resting on his chest. 

Then, out of the blue he lets out a soft chuckle. Curiously you lift your head to look at him questioningly. 

“I think I need an award for lasting that long,” he comments and you laugh with him until his hand cradles your face and he pulls you up for a soft, lazy kiss. 

A siren wakes you up that passes by the bedroom window. You grimace with your eyes still closed as you roll from one side to the other, your hand reaching out, searching for Harry’s body, like you did during the night, but this time all you find is the empty mattress beside you.

It instantly sets off a siren in your head as well. 

Sitting up you look at the rumpled sheets on the right side of the bed, but Harry is still not there. Your stomach drops as you crawl out of bed and grab a shirt and a pair of panties to put on quickly before walking out of the bedroom, hoping you might find him in the kitchen making breakfast, but when all you find is your own mess from the day before, panic takes over.

There won’t be next time. That was just an empty promise, he left you just like he left everyone else. How could you even think that you were different?

Tears are dwelling in your eyes as you wrap your arms around you, but then you hear the front door open and you turn around to find Harry walking in, balancing two coffees in one hand and a paper bag in the other.

“Hey, you’re up! I went to get us breakfast, because I didn’t find much in your fridge and—Y/N, are you crying?”

“No,” you shake your head, but then a sob bubbles from your throat. Harry places the cups and the bag to the side table and rushes over to you in panic. 

“What happened? Talk to me,” he pleads, but you just shake your head, embarrassed that you instantly assumed the worst of him. 

It takes only a couple of seconds for Harry to put the puzzle pieces together as well.

“You thought I left,” he says. 

“I got scared for a moment when I didn’t find you.”

He doesn’t try to play it off or play the victim. He pulls you into a tight hug and gently sways until you calm down. When he pulls back and looks you in the eyes all you see in his gaze is determination. 

“Remember what I told you the night when I dropped you off at your sister’s place?”

“That I should look at Jeremy with criticism.”

“Before that.” You remain silent because you can’t recall what else was said that night. “I said that I will gladly prove to you that my interest in you is genuine.”

Oh, yeah. You remember that.

“The proving starts now. I will do anything to earn your trust.”

“Even if it takes a long time?” you ask, biting into your bottom lip. He smiles warmly at you.

“Even if it takes forever.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut

[ariesangelxo]

okay so i was thinking something like rafe always gives like reader butt pats and she’s gotten used to it so much that she can’t go a day without it. so one day rafe doesn’t do it and she automatically thinks he’s mad at her but rafes not he just does the but pats without thinking. so then their whole day goes along with them fighting abt small things till rafe asks her what’s wrong and they make up🤗

🌶️anon!

rafe cameron x fem reader

minors & ageless blogs dni

cw: a bit of angst, a lil bit of comfort in the end. some suggestive content, spanking, reader is an overthinker, reader also isn’t good about talking abt her feelings

a/n: i’m sorry this took so long! i hope i did this justice <33

being by rafe’s side was ninety percent of your daily routine. he’d asked you to move into tannyhill not long after ward passed, and being his loving girlfriend that doted on his every step, you did.

you couldn’t have been happier to spend nearly all of your time with him. rafe treated you like a princess. despite his rough reputation around outerbanks, you knew him to be the most loving man you’d ever met.

he could tell when you were upset, the small tells of you avoiding eye contact and biting down on your bottom lip made it obvious to him when you needed him most. he was usually able to get you back to your sweet and happy self with just focusing his attention on you. his touch, his voice, his presence, it comforted you in ways nothing else could.

rafe always gave you small pats on your ass throughout the day. it was something you’d grown accustomed to and you adored it. it was one of those little things he did that unknowingly made your heart swell. his casual dominance allowed you to turn your brain off, every thought in your pretty head revolved around him.

today, however, had been a bit different. it started with him not giving you the normal pat when you got out of bed this morning. you didn’t think too much of it, figuring he was probably concerned with work-related emails on his phone.

then it was the lack of attention while you made him breakfast. you enjoyed your small housewife-like duties. rafe walked into the kitchen, leaning his back against the granite countertop. but when he didn’t come up behind you and place a sweet kiss against your neck while aggressively claiming your ass as his, a slight pout formed on your lips. rafe was too engrossed in his phone to notice it though.

when you put a plate of food in front of him, he barely looked up to give you a half smile. you quickly went back to busying yourself in the kitchen, trying to keep your mind away from the anxious thoughts beginning to swirl around.

much to your dismay, washing the dishes wasn’t helping. did you do something wrong? could you have said something last night that, unintentionally of course, upset him? were you being too clingy? was it really just work?

you let out a deep sigh as you finished drying off a frying pan. “you okay?” rafe called out to you.

you turned to look at him, placing a small smile on your face that was definitely not genuine. “yeah, ‘m fine.”

he didn’t look satisfied with your answer, but he didn’t push any further. you didn’t want to share any of your current thoughts. if it was really only him being stressed with the business, you would feel bad for assuming otherwise. you didn’t want to overthink small things, but it was one of your unhealthy habits.

shortly after eating and cleaning up, you were upstairs in your shared room getting ready to go to the country club with rafe. he’d made plans a few days ago to go golfing with topper and kelce, naturally, you were going. rafe brought you with him almost everywhere.

you put on a short white tennis skirt, one that you knew drove him wild, along with a tight pink tank top. as you finished applying your layer of lip gloss, you looked yourself over in the mirror. there was no way rafe could resist giving you a firm slap on the ass when it looked so good in the tiny skirt.

“c’mon, kid. don’t have all day here.” he called out from the bottom of the stairs.

“‘m coming,” you responded, grabbing your small pink purse and heading down.

you walked out of the bedroom with a big smile on your face, nearly skipping down the hall. once you got to the top of the stairs, rafe looked up, giving you a quick smirk.

he held the door open for you on the way out of the house, and of course as you got into his truck, but still hadn’t given you a single pat today. you were genuinely beginning to grow concerned at this point. you could brush off not getting them when you got out of bed or while making breakfast, but when he didn’t give you one while you walked out of the front door, swaying your hips, or stepping up into his truck, purposely bending over so your mini skirt rode up? that was extremely unusual.

you buckled yourself in, leaning your knees closer to the door than him and stared out the window.

“you have an attitude?” he questioned you, his tone having a bit of edge to it.

“nope,” you replied, popping the ‘p’, “‘m fine.”

you glanced over just in time to see rafe rolling his eyes. he didn’t verbally say anything, but his actions spoke loud enough for you.

you crossed your arms, childishly leaning further into the door to put what distance you could between the two of you. rafe let out a sigh, but still didn’t say anything.

the short drive to the country club was filled with tension. it was uncomfortably silent, neither of you speaking a word to each other.

rafe stepped out of the truck when you arrived, slamming his door shut a bit harder than usual. he still came to your side though, opening up the door for you to step out. he once again didn’t offer any touch to you. your heart sank, you truly didn’t know what was going on.

he grabbed his clubs from the back, walking ahead of you to go meet topper and kelce on the course. you followed behind, slow and stubbornly, your arms crossed and your brow furrowed with a pout on your lips.

you sat in the passenger seat, legs and arms crossed as your manicured nails tapped against your bicep in an irritated manner. you looked cranky, and you knew it based on the looks topper and kelce gave rafe when you initially followed behind him. you usually wore a bright smile and clung to rafe’s side, excitedly greeting the boys.

“what’s goin’ on with her?” you heard topper ask rafe. he attempted to keep his volume low so you wouldn’t hear, but with his naturally loud voice, he failed miserably.

your eyebrow quirked up. you were curious to hear rafe’s response.

“no fuckin’ clue.” rafe grumbled out, trying to focus on his swing. you rolled your eyes, it was his fault you were in a bad mood. he’s the one that’s been neglecting you since you woke up.

topper glanced over at you, letting out a slight laugh at your pouting. rafe’s eyes followed, he pinched his nose in annoyance.

he walked up to the cart where you were sitting, crossing his arms as he looked down at you.

“okay, kid. what’s goin’ on? why are you pouting?”

you let a small scoff out, furrowing your brows, “don’t act so interested now just because your friends noticed.”

rafe was taken aback at your tone. you never spoke to him with an attitude like that. his eyes narrowed, looking at you in a way that made you feel minuscule.

“you can lose that little attitude you’ve got goin’ on, now.” his voice was stern, dripping with annoyance. you wanted to disappear, you were so frustrated that he didn’t understand he was the reason for your attitude.

you looked away from him, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes as you said nothing and stared forward, not particularly focusing on anything.

rafe muttered a “whatever.” before walking back to where topper and kelce were.

you did feel bad for having an attitude, but the way you felt like you were being rejected by him made you want to shut down. it made you want to disappear from the face of the earth for a while. you felt embarrassed, upset, and now overwhelmed with your brain going into overthinking.

you didn’t say a word to any of the men as they played through the course. not even when rafe would get into the drivers seat and bring you two to the next hole.

you instead spent that time biting down harshly on the inside of your lip, fighting to keep the tears of frustration from falling past your eyes. you tried to focus on literally anything else, but the constant noise of thoughts swirling through your brain made it impossible.

they’d wrapped up the last hole. you heard rafe saying something about possibly meeting them around the country club after for lunch.

you refused to look up at him, even when he started heading your way. you missed the way he wore a half smirk as he looked at your pouting figure. he knew you were upset about something, but you weren’t great about vocalizing your feelings.

“d’you want to go back to the restaurant for lunch?”

“don’t care,” you muttered out, looking down at your nails as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

“well, your options are either that or we can go home. your choice, kid.” he wasn’t feeding into your baiting tone, and that just irritated you further.

“said i don’t care, rafe.”

“s’okay. we can go home and you can take a nap, because you clearly need one.” he rounded the golf cart, hopping into the driver’s seat as he brought you back to the entrance.

you got out before he could, beginning to storm your way to his truck.

“hey! slow the fuck down. you know you don’t walk into a busy ass parking lot without me.” he called out to you.

you halted, but didn’t turn around to acknowledge him. you mumbled an “okay, asshole.” under your breath, not thinking he’d hear.

boy, were you wrong. it took a matter of seconds for rafe to be in front of you, one of his large hands squishing your cheeks as he moved jaw up to look at him, “wanna say that again, princess?” he said challengingly.

you didn’t respond. wrong answer. his nostrils flared as he squinted at you. he gripped your wrist, harshly dragging you to where the truck was parked. he brought you around to the passenger door where it blocked onlookers from the country club from seeing you.

“i don’t know what the fuck’s goin’ on with you today. but i will not put up with this shit in front of others. you know i- i have a reputation to uphold here, right? you think it looks good on me for others to see my girl being a bitch towards me, huh?”

your lip wobbled as tears began to fill your eyes. you wanted to look away, to look anywhere besides his mean stare, but his rough hand on your face wouldn’t allow it.

“no!” you cried out, “just- just wanted your affection. dunno why you’re mad at me.” you whimpered out, tears beginning to cascade down your cheeks.

“kid. why do you think i’m mad at you?” he quirked an eyebrow inquisitively.

“b-because you haven’t given me a single pat today! ‘nd you give me them everyday!”

he closed his eyes, taking a deep inhale to calm himself.

“you think i’m mad at you because i haven’t smacked your ass today?”

when he said it like that, it sounded stupid. but it felt like so much more than that to you.

he rolled his eyes, using his hands to wipe away the tears on your face. he made sure you were looking at him, “sweetheart, ‘m not mad at you. i’ve been busy with some clients that aren’t following through on their payments today.”

you looked at him hopefully, hiccuping as you brought your hands up on his.

“do you pinky promise you’re not mad at me?” you asked him softly, holding out one of your pinkies.

“pinky promise. but you’re not gonna be able to sit tomorrow with the spanking you’re getting when we get home.” he reached out his pinky, stifling back a smirk as he intertwined them.

“m’kay!” you responded happily, the tears stopping and a smile appearing on your face.

he opened up the passenger door, holding his hand out to help you get in before he gave your bottom a firm pat and buckled you in.

he chuckled to himself as he rounded the truck, “all that attitude because she didn’t get her ass smacked, huh?”

#🌶️ anon #divider by plutism #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x fem!reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble #rafe obx #rafe fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fic

[sickslimez]

STILL IN LOVE! #8 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

“Fuck,” Toji grunted before letting out a deep sigh, sweat dripping off his skin as he placed the weights down on the floor. He looked around the room, glancing outside the window.

“That was three more than the last time,” Gojo spoke with a smirk, leaning up against the wall. He took a sip from his water bottle before speaking again, “who’re you tryna impress?” He teased.

“No one. Just tryna get back into the gym.” Toji grabbed his water off of the floor along with his towel, wiping the sweat from his face. Gojo causally walked over towards Toji, standing over him with his arms folded. “May I help you?” Toji glared at the white haired man. As good of a friend gojo was to Toji, he was also very annoying at times, which eventually he had to get used to.

“You never told me how your talk with y/n went? How is she anyway? Single? Not single? Just wanna know when I can make my move.” Gojo quirked a brow, clearly trying to get a reaction from his friend.

“Very funny. She’s doing just fine.” Toji stood from his seat, pushing past Gojo and walking out of his gym room towards the kitchen to grab a small snack. Gojo trailed right behind him, laughing.

“And?” Gojo snatched the box of granola bars from Toji’s hand, slamming them on the counter as he waited for more of a response. “Come on man, I want the details!”

Toji rolled his eyes with the shake of his head, snatching back the box. “We talked about us as parents and our kids. That’s it. What more do you wanna hear?” The crinkling sound of a wrapper filled the silent kitchen.

“That’s it?” Gojo’s brows furrowed, genuinely confused. Toji nodded in response, chewing on his food. “You two didnt have sex?” Gojo questioned, eyebrows now raised in surprise. “Not even a kiss?”

“Nothin. Just a hug and a see you later,” Toji explained.

“Holy shit! You two are actually over. Wow, I never thought I’d see this day come,” Gojo scoffed, grabbing a granola bar from the box. “Have you met or seen her new man?”

Toji shrugged. “No, not really. I’ve seen him, but I haven’t properly talked to him. Don’t think I want to. I want her to be happy, she deserves it. I just can’t stand seeing her happy with someone else. Is that wrong of me? I still get jealous, possessive. But it’s no longer my place to say anything.”

“Who are you and what did you do with Toji?” Gojo had a scowl on his face. Toji let out an airy laugh, shaking his head at him. “It’s weird seeing you all…mature.” Gojo shivered before taking another bite of his granola bar.

“I know. I’m still getting used to it myself.” Not a second goes by where you’re not on Toji’s mind. He thinks about what you’re doing, how you’re doing. He wants to text you, see you, hear your voice, touch you again. He hates that it has to be this way now, but it’s for you, for your family.

Though he has these thoughts in the back of his head, imagining you forgetting about him, acting like he doesn’t exist anymore, you getting remarried to someone that isn’t him. He’s scared of fully losing you, losing his family. You and the kids are the only thing keeping him together, giving him hope that things we maybe work out in the future. But every now and then, he sees those flowers on your table, the kiss your shared with him, the smile on your face when you hugged him. It haunts Toji.

“I forgot to ask, how’d your talk with Toji go?” Kento questioned, his arms snaking around your waist as you wiped your makeup off in the bathroom mirror. He peppered kisses down your neck as he waited for your response.

A smile crept on your face before speaking, “it went well actually. No argument. He was actually very understanding.” You softly smiled, continuing to wipe the makeup off. Of course you wouldn’t mention how Toji practically told you he was still in love with you, held you in his arms while you cried into his chest. It still felt like you smell his cologne in your nose each time you took a deep breath.

“Well, that’s good, right? Now you won’t have to deal with him anymore,” Kento chuckled, pulling away from you. Your brows furrowed at his comment, something in the way he said it didn’t sit right with you, but you decided to ignore it. “He seems like a pretty shitty person, but who am I to judge. I’m just glad you’re doing better, sweetheart.”

You turned around to face the blonde haired man with a puzzled look on your face. “Yeah, who are you to judge?” You asked, tossing your makeup wipe down on the bathroom counter. “Me and Toji may have not had the best relationship towards the end and we may not agree on some things, but I do not need you coming up in here and bashing my children’s father to my face.”

“Woah, woah, calm down, I didn’t mean it like that, okay? I’m sorry, it just came out wrong.” Kento grabbed onto your hands, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. “I just seen how much he’s put you through and I don’t like it.” You pulled your hands from his, leaning Nanami with a slightly shocked expression.

“That is not how you meant it. Calling him a shitty person? Really? He’s a good dad, takes care of his kids, he cares about the people in his life, Kento.” You started to get defensive. Toji had his bad moments, every one does, and your relationship showed that side of him, but you also saw the best of him too. You knew deep down Toji was actually someone trustworthy, a good person at heart.

“Yeah, like the way he cared about you towards the end of your marriage?” Kento questioned.

You stared at him, unable to form words, trying to process the ones that just came out of his mouth. “What did you just say?”

Kento stepped closer towards you, realizing what had just slipped from his mouth, an apologetic look on his face when he saw the saddened look in your eyes. “I’m sorry, I—”

“You have no fucking right to talk about my marriage with him. Just because I told you what happened doesn’t mean you know the whole story, you understand? He was my husband, he’s the father of my kids! How fucking dare you? Get the hell out of my house.” Anger lined your tone. You never thought that someone like Nanami would ever judge someone’s character, let alone, speak about them in such an ill manner. He seemed understanding, open to the whole situation, even offered you advice—which you took.

“Y/n, I didn’t mean to upset you. Forgive me. You’re right, it isn’t my place to speak about your marriage. I just thought—”

“Let me make this clear again…get out of my house, please.” You sharply inhaled, eyes fluttering shut as you tried to control your anger. And to think you were going to have a nice night while the kids were at Shoko’s and you had the house to yourself. You stood there looking at the tiles of the bathroom floor, Nanami stepping out of the room to grab his things. A shaky breath rattled through your body as tears began forming in your eyes, but just as quickly as they came you wiped them away even faster.

The front door shut, leaving you in complete silence.

Toji rubbed the towel over his wet hair, sweats hanging low on his waist as he walked into the living room to settle down for the day. He grabbed the remote, turning on the tv to find an interesting moving to watch before bed, choosing between horror or thriller. “This is same shit as the other one,” he spoke to himself, sucking his teeth.

Toji’s phone began vibrating as he clicked through the movie selections, not bothering to look as he picked it up. “What do you want, Gojo?” Toji asked with an unenthusiastic tone.

“Toji,” you sniffled. He immediately sat up, eyes going wide at the sound of your voice.

“Y/n? What’s wrong? Are you okay? The kids okay?” He asked with panic, standing to his feet.

“The kids…the kids are fine, they’re with Shoko.” You could barely talk, trying to control your emotions.

“What’s wrong, mama?” Toji questioned, walking over to the front door to slip on his shoes. “What happened? Talk to me.” He opened his front door, walking to his car, unlocking it.

“Can you just come over? Please?” You asked.

“I’m already on my way, okay? Stay on the phone,” he demanded. The sound of your cries made Toji fill with worry. You wouldn’t tell him what was wrong or what was going on, but he’s never driven anywhere else faster before. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay.” You nodded as if he could see you.

Toji didn’t even turn his lights or tv off. Hell, he can’t even remember if he locked his front door. But at this point he didn’t give a damn. All he knew was that you needed him right now. He wasn’t going to leave you like he did all those times before. “I’m around the corner, be at the door.” Toji hung up the phone as he turned down your street, slowly breaking as he pulled up to your house. He noticed how there was only your car in the driveway.

He saw your front door open, the light from the house illuminating your figure as you stood on the steps. Toji quickly got out of the car, rushing towards you. He could hear you crying the closer he got. You reached towards him with open arms, Toji took you in his, nearly out of breath. “Mama, what’s wrong? What happened?” He asked, soothingly rubbing your back.

“I’m sorry for calling so late,” you sobbed.

“No, no, shh, come on, let’s go inside.” He noticed how you were only in your nightgown in the cold. Helping you into the house, he locked the front door behind him. He stood there with you in his arms, embracing you, comforting you as you cried. “I’m here, baby,” he said softly.

“I just…we got into a fight…and I started drinking and I—I can’t stop crying. I needed you,” you explained, tears rolling down your cheeks. Toji could faintly smell the alcohol on your breath as you spoke. Toji wasn’t going to intrude on your business when it came to your new relationship, but if he had to guess, the argument was pretty recent.

“He didn’t touch you or anything, right?” Toji sternly asked. You immediately shook your head no. A weight of relief lifted off of his shoulders at your answer.

“I’m sorry for calling you so late, Toji. You didn’t have to come I was—”

“I don’t care about that, okay? I don’t want you to be alone while you’re feeling like this. Not anymore. Let’s go.” He guided you towards your bedroom, the plush carpet under your feet as he sat you down on the bed. You finally stopped crying, wiping the tears off of your face as you sat there to collect your thoughts. “I’ll be back.” Toji felt a tug on his hand as he went to step away, looking back to see you staring up at him.

“Stay.” It almost looked like you were begging him. Is this what you were like all those years ago? How he just ignored you? How could he do something like that to you? You squeezed his hand tighter as you crawled into the bed, pulling him with you. Toji reluctantly followed, but still gave in. His arms wrapped your body, pulling the blankets over you as you snuggled into him. You inhaled his scent, hugging onto him like you never wanted to let go. “Don’t go,” you mumbled against him.

His fingers ran over your skin. “I won’t, mama. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” He kissed the top of your head. Toji laid there as you fell asleep his arms, bedroom light still on, his hair still damp from his shower. He doesn’t know what to think right now, lost in his head. Was this real? Or were you just drunk? He doesn’t want to think about it too much, but yet he does. Will you hate him when you wake up? Scold him, yell at him? God, he hopes not.

“I love you, Toji.” Those three words made his heart sank, his movements came to a halt.

She’s drunk. She’s doesn’t mean that. Don’t read too much into it. This will never happen again. It isn’t real.

It takes everything in him not to say those three words back. He doesn’t want to give into something that he knows won’t even be a second thought to you the moment you open your eyes again. His jaw clenched as he stared at your bedroom wall. “Just sleep, baby,” he quietly spoke. He slumped the lump in his throat, continuing to trace patterns on your skin.

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[n0tamused]

May I request headcanons about what Jiyan's, Aalto's, Calcharo's and Mortefi's favorite types of kisses are?

A/N: You certainly can! I can honestly write a small followup drabbles for these too when I get the time. These are just some short headcanons in the meantime <3 Hope you enjoy!

Content: fluff, sfw.

Jiyan:

-While Jiyan isn’t too touchy in public, he doesn’t stray from some sweet little gestures of love like quick temple kisses or hand kisses

-He does them when he’s in a rush or when he just wants to show he loves you, while not being able to exactly “make out with you in broad daylight”

-The elderly that know him and happen to see him showing his affection like this don’t fail to swoon over how adorable you two are, praising you to no end and sometimes going really hard on teasing you. Some of them really have no chill-

-But in private, Jiyan loves to have you to himself, and his favorite kisses to give and receive are neck and on the lips kisses. 

-Whether it’d be you laying on his chest and leaving little butterfly kisses along his neck, or him having you underneath him, showering you with multiple kisses, trailing pecks up your neck until he reaches your lips, where he lingers for longer. 

-He loves showing you he loves you, especially since he never knows for how long he’ll stay on the front lines next, or if he’ll even return. Cherishing every single moment with you is his goal, burning those memories behind his eyelids of such intimate moments as these

Aalto:

-Aalto doesn’t shy away from PDA, but he still has manners! In public, his go-to kisses are cheek kisses. One hand holds you chin and he pressed his lips to your cheek and lets the kiss linger for a moment or two before parting 

-Sometimes, he likes to hold the kiss for a long period of time until you pry him off of you, trying to see for how long he can stay “latched onto you”. It’s a harmless little thing, and he loves how effortlessly it makes you giggle and blush as you swat him away like a fly

-In private, Aalto becomes softer, going for kissing your closed eyelids and mapping the lines of your face with his lips. It starts soft and innocent, the quiet embracing you as you hold the weight of his love in the palms of your hand, feeling it squeeze your lungs.

-But then his lips trace lower to his next favorite place to leave kisses on you, your collarbone.

-If he feels especially energetic or playful, he will bite down a bit, nibbling here and there to get his fix of you before he all but traps  you under him, his head on your chest as he pretends he’s knocked out cold.

Calcharo: 

-Calcharo is quite the simple man. Even if he is quite tense at the start of your relationship, he does begin to crave your touch and affections

-He does sometimes struggle to understand when it would be the best time to kiss you or touch you in any way, so the easiest approach he comes up with is greeting and parting kisses. When he’s already in your shared home and you’re coming up to greet him

-His arms are wrapping around you like a bear trap and he’s leaning down to kiss you on the lips, letting you both linger lip to lip before you part ways. 

-He may seem a bit rough with it but with a little bit of your help he does learn to soften up and leave feather light pecks on your lips after the initial one to soothe you over

-It becomes like a little ritual, every morning and evening it’s the same with him holding you close and letting his mind turn off for that short duration of the kiss

-Also does this in bed sometimes when you’re cuddling or if he’s having some trouble sleeping. Holding you helps ease him

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

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[hrdenha]

— prize possession | p. js

in which, your boyfriend, Park Jongseong comes home not knowing he has a prize to collect. A prize you willingly give for him to possess

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ⚠️ consented somno, mentions of alcohol, use of undergarments as a signal, penetration, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP!), oral (f receiving), curses, cockwarming, JAY (yeah, bc he's dangerously HOT), not yet edited - sorry~

NOTES — ! this one's short but I hope y'all will enjoy

It was late, he was late. A deal that made jay busy for the whole week finally ends with them successfully getting it. He wanted to run home and celebrate with you the moment the deal was sealed but, the fate has its own idea on the situation. He called you this evening, telling you the result of their work and his plans to go home right then. But, you enthusiastically told him to celebrate first with his workers, saying they deserved it after a week long sleepless nights. Thus, it's only now that he made home. 1 am in the morning, and he was exhausted through the bones.

As he expected the house was silent when he came inside, the only thing that lights the path for him is the moon. He then finally came through your shared room. You were there laying on your side, back facing him as you sleep soundedly. Jay smiled, taking off his coat, his shoes and belt next in line before diving down the bed letting himself touch and be close with you. Of course, knowing jay he wouldn't let himself sleep without cleaning himself first. One of those things you love about him.

As promised, when he felt recharged by your presence, he finally stood up and took a hot shower for himself, leaving you in the bed still sleeping. The shower definitely refreshed both his body and mind from the hectic schedule that just occurred, even washing away the remnant of alcohol in his system in the process. He's not drunk, but of course, he did take a few shots offered to him by his workers. It's only polite to accept.

Once his hair was dry enough, he again joined you on the bed. Caressing your body in his hands, as he listens to your soft breaths. Planting soft kisses on top of your shoulders, getting drunk on your presence instead of the alcohol. He's wrong though, the hot shower he just took washed away everything aside from the hot blood he's feeling down there. Most especially now that you're responding to his touch by practically moaning his name in your sleep. Not a shocking one, but he was damn turned on about it. He was still in dazed when you started moving quietly on your sleep, snuggling the long pillow close to your body and raising your right leg on it causing your sleepwear to ride up on your hips.

Jay eyes followed it, his breath cut off when he realized. You were wearing THE lingerie. The one jay absolutely loves and adores that grants him a certain privileged. It's not just a piece of seductive clothing but rather a go signal for him.

You wanted him to take you as you sleep and... "Damn, baby." He planted open mouth kisses on your shoulders again, down to your neck and then your cheeks. Pulling your body closer to him with conviction but at the same time care not to hurt or wake you up. And, while his right hand massaged your breast, "You never ceased to amaze me" His other hand started to travel southward, massaging your hips before sliding a finger on your clothed line. Your position just made it all easier, jay can even feel the hot blush on his skin as you started responding to his advances.

"You're wet, baby... even in your sleep you're still a slut waiting for a cock, my cock." He slides the strap to the side revealing your pussy with slick. Jay didn't even wait, he immediately plunged his tongue taking advantage of how wet you are. You started raising your hips in contact, moaning in your dreams as the pleasure started to spread widely.

Jay started maneuvering your body, now as you lay flat on your back taking your panty completely before he gladly played on your pleasure. Drowning on your wetness and scent, he continued working his way. His eyes occasionally opening and glancing upwards whenever he hears a sharp whimper. He can feel the tightness on his hips, how his loose sweatpants became tight at the growing bulge he had. It's twitching, so thirsty to feel your tightness but jay had other plans.

He's still downing your juices, as if making a statement that other than alcohol, he too can get drunk on your essence. "J-a...y" You whimpered his name more clearly than the last time but still incoherent. And, he took it as a signal. It's the best time to fucked you lazy when you're still in the middle of consciousness and sleep.

His clothes swiftly took their landing on the floor leaving their owner naked, he's painfully hard and erect. And, the only cure effective for this is you. Jay took the place beside as he positioned you in a spoon, your back on his chest as he possessively hug you from behind. He then started dragging his head on your slit coating it with your mixed fluids. He groaned at his antics, and more than ever when he finally pushed his tip inside.

"Hm... baby" He whispered on your ears, the hand that encircled your waist raised your right leg causing him to push his cock again. It was deep but jay wasn't in fully, he knows it can be deeper than that and even if he wanted to just push it, he wouldn't. He wanted your brain to realized on its own that someone's using your body amidst its rest. What's more exciting than your reaction realizing his assault?

Jay started thrusting, it was painfully slow and tender, he might as well teasing himself. His right hand playing on your breast as he did. "Wake up..." Thrust. "It's time to wake up, baby" His pace started picking up, and so are your whimpers. From the way your body jolts up in every thrust is an equivalent of glass shattering from your sleep. You were floating, in the middle of a medium where no one can disturb your peace. Then, a pair of gentle hands appear out of nowhere, stroking... kneading your body. You start chasing those hands, desperately searching for more. The strokes only get hungrier, yet patient and collected. One that takes its time while you, on the other hand, are getting impatient. Thus, you revel in the pleasure you're given while the touch becomes more demanding.

With one particularly hitting your spot, you started stirring up from your sleep. Half-consiously basking on the bliss that are given much to jay's anticipation. He pushed himself more fully enjoying your pussy in its glory earning a sharp breath from you as the numbing feeling of pleasure started spreading out your system. "Jay...?" You shift having a sharp inhale when he hit the spot again. "Fuck, jay... baby. yeah th— that feels..." Jay's thrust never falter even when he started his kissing escapades with you anchoring your neck at best just to taste his lips as he continues rutting from behind. It even helped Jay in advantage when he started grabbing you by the neck causing his dick to push deeper than ever. You moaned in response, leg rising on its own to feel more while your hand — on a desperate attempt to find support, found its way on jay's nape.

"...always wanted to wake up with your cock inside me, jay"

"Ah! Shit..." You hissed. Jay chuckled, darkly. "You like that baby? I bet you do. Pussy so tight when I hit this spot even when you're asleep."

"Jay... Jay!"

"But, I might say... f-uck! You're tighter when you're awake." That made everything intensify, even you, felt how your pussy tightened around him at that. Jay groaned, immediately laying you on your back rutting his cock again. The room is filled with moans and wet skin slapping. You started seeing stars in your eyes, can't do anything but to curl your toes and repeatedly call jay's name.

"Ugh! Baby, baby! I-I think I'm gonna... I think I'm gonna" like a broken record, holding him close as if it will help not to lose your sanity. "Fuck, y/n! Fuck!" His hips rock harder and firmer, adding pressure to the prominent feel of sex. And, with lines of curses coming from both of you, he thrust deeper past your rear as you finally feel a warm feeling flooding inside you while your soul starts to fly apart from the rippling waves of your high. Jay whimpers at ecstasy, his muscles relaxing from his own release before facing you. He silently took your cavern, sharing a passionate kiss as if it was his way to show appreciation and how thankful he was. After that he goes limp, holding you while still on top. At the same time, you felt his cock going soft within you but jay didn't mind, and that goes both ways. He didn't pull out, he even pushed it further as if trapping your mess and for some reason, that made your heart full. You let him use you in any way he sees fit. Jay deserves a price, after all.

hrdenha, 2024

likes, reblogs, and comments are deeply appreciated 💖

#masterlist! #enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen au #enhypen ff #park jongseong #lee heeseung #park sunghoon #sim jaeyun

[ghoulbrain]

The Cost of Flesh

18+ 4.9k the ghoul x f!reader. gif credit. dirty talk, vaginal fingering, clothed/naked, finger sucking, grinding on a cowboy boot, cooper's busted anatomy forces him to get creative, body worship, lightly established dynamic, surprisingly sentimental. a prompt from @tearueful that got wildly out of hand. thank you, friend! 🖤

When what starts off as a purely sexual arrangement with the Waste's most notorious bounty hunter–the ghoul–gradually grows into a living, breathing love, you're both forced to confront the inevitable humanity that comes with sharing your body with another.

There’s a living myth that walks the wastes, a figure known exclusively as the ghoul. He’s enigmatic, a force of nature that declares himself to the world with his every step. If you're unaware of sharing a room with him, it’s likely because he’s hunting you, in which case it’s not a matter of if he catches you, but when.

Naturally, it was the talk of the town when he made a regular haunt out of the saloon you worked in.

He watched you serve drinks all evening, his gaze a physical thing upon you. Normally you expected a degree of harassment from clientele, raiders and the like often rolling through, but it was as though everyone else sensed his attention on you as much as you did. You could tell from the tilted angle of the wide brim of his hat when he was listening to your conversations.

It was as eerie as it was intriguing. You couldn’t fathom a bounty on your head, so what did he want?

You would soon be ensnared by him, but not for a bounty. It was for pleasure. Your pleasure.

“Come upstairs with me,” He murmured in your ear, standing close behind you, a gloved knuckle rolling up your spine. “Y’ain’t gatta do nothin’. I won’t hurt’cha none. Just wanna hear a pretty bird sing.”

You shivered, caught unaware. You never even heard his approach, even though the din of the bar had quieted in the late evening.

“I’m not for sale,” you replied, testing the water. He was close enough that you felt him, but not so close you were pinned. You could move if you wanted to.

“I ain’t buyin’,” he gave back. You could feel the heat of his breath on your neck. “But I’ll make it worth y’while.”

The gravel grit of his voice was nearly drowned out by the drumming of your own pulse in your ears. To this day, you don’t know what possessed you to agree, but you did. He took your hand in his, the leather of his glove soft with wear, and led you away from the bar. The next thing you knew, he was stripping you bare in one of the dark rooms above the bar.

The ceremony with which he undressed you had felt disconcertingly like meal prep. He tied your hands above your head, and your heart thundered with the understanding that there was nothing to stop him from devouring you alive where you lay sprawled out on the bed. 

By the time his gloved hands were dragging away your underwear, you felt dizzy with the heady mix of arousal and fear, an unquiet ache thrumming between your thighs. Your only meager assurance was that of all the legends you’d heard of the ghoul, seducing and eating barmaids wasn’t among them. 

And yet devour you he did. You were hooked from that very first wet, hot slide of his tongue against your clit. He spent hours with you that night, mapping your body with his tongue, your scars and blemishes serving as waypoints and constellations. He nipped and sucked until dark marks blossomed under his tongue, and he relished those spots more than any other.

He never took off more than his gloves, and he never let you touch him. He never fucked you. He brought you to climax with his mouth and his hands so many times you lost track of the number. All you could do was writhe and moan your pleasure. He didn’t stop until those moans turned to sobs, until you begged him to. After that, he cut your binds loose and left you a mess on the bed, aching and used. 

You laid there for a long time, thinking you would never see him again.

The ghoul returned not a week later. 

He wasn’t subtle about what he wanted from you, beckoning you from across the bar with a crook of two fingers. You felt your knees weaken with the memory of those same fingers in your mouth, your cunt, that hand pinning you by your throat to feel your cries against his palm. He stared at you from beneath the brim of his hat, cocked his head. You nodded, and his eyes flashed.

Hungry.

You didn’t learn his name until your third encounter. He whispered it in your ear.

“Now scream it for me, sweetheart.”

You did.

The two of you would meet several more times. He would stay a little longer after each session, and bit by bit, you would come to understand the man beyond the ghoul. He doesn’t talk about himself, and he doesn’t ask anything of your life in turn, but he reveals himself in pieces nonetheless. Beneath the ruthless pragmatism of his legendary persona, you find the manners of a shockingly tender gentleman lurking.

He’s always unhurried in disrobing you, devoted to the task at hand: taking you apart piece by piece. He treats each article of frayed clothing like a piece of paper that might tear if he pulls too hard. He makes the process of being undressed in and of itself feel like sex, every move intentionally sensual. 

For you, the experience ranges from thrilling to maddening depending on your mood that day. He never heeds you, always keen to take his time regardless of your impatience. He takes a particular kind of enjoyment in your body, the likes of which you’ve never known. You’re certain he knows it better than you do at this point, and yet he’s never laid himself bare to you. Never let you bring him the kind of pleasure he brings you.

He’s never kissed you.

“Please. I wanna touch you, too,” you tell breathlessly, knelt between his legs, naked as sin. His focus breaks, gaze snapping to yours. You lick your lips, relishing the rare feeling of catching him off guard. You slide your hands up his thighs, inching towards his groin. “Taste you. Make you twist. When’re you gonna let me, huh?”

He catches your wrists as quickly as a viper strikes, holding you still for a long, tense moment. You hold his gaze without any of the fear or reservation you’d felt that first day. 

Despite the warmth that’s grown between you in the time since that first night, you’re uncertain of what exactly the two of you are now. It would be romantic to think of this feeling in your chest as love. Certainly it is intimacy. Familiarity. What is love if not consistency? Perhaps it’s like masonry. Steel against stone, and the conscious choice to change something as immutable as solid rock.

For as long as he chooses to come back to you, to find his pleasure in you, is that not love? If it isn’t, it might just be the closest you’ve ever come to it.

Dumbstruck for a moment by the tenderness in your gaze, Cooper’s own drops to your hand, lifting it to his mouth. His grip is tight, but not painful. As he does with everything else, he takes his time answering.

“Won’t do much good, darlin’,” he says, folding your hands wrist over wrist. You perk up. He’s never given a proper explanation for why he seems to have no interest in your reciprocation. From his belt, he withdraws a length of rope and begins encircling your wrists. You allow it, the ritual a familiar one. “Plumbing’s long busted, but that don’t mean I don’t enjoy myself. Enjoy you.”

Like the final piece of a puzzle falling in place, understanding dawns. His initial use of you drops perfectly into context. It was like you were more an object to him than a person, a vessel for him to exact sensation upon. You understand now that that’s exactly what you were. Be it the radiation or the myriad of drugs he takes to keep the degeneration at bay, it’s likely just one more piece of him the Wasteland has stolen.

“Oh.”

“Disappointed?” He asks, fastening the rope with a sharp tug that shoots a hot throb between your thighs. If he’s apprehensive about your answer, he hides it well. If they still made movies, he’d make for a fine actor.

You pause, giving the question the thought it deserves. “Not exactly. Maybe a bit,” you say, struggling to articulate the feeling. “Kind of relieved, though. I didn’t know if you couldn’t, or just didn’t want to,” you admit, leaning into it when he brings his palm to the side of your face. Your lips part automatically for the brush of his thumb along them. “I just want to do more.”

Cooper’s gaze softens, the line of his mouth twitching in what almost looks like a smile before it’s tampered by a profound sense of sadness. However, it disappears as quickly as the smile that nearly was. His expression smooths back out into controlled focus.

“So do more,” he says in that molasses drawl, thick and sweet. It could be your imagination, but his voice sounds warmer than it did a moment ago. “Put on a show for me.” He widens the spread of your legs with the press of his boot to your inner thigh. “I got plenty ‘a things for you t’ride.”

He lifts the worn leather to the wet heat gathering between your thighs and you shudder, lashes fluttering. His boot sinks back to the ground and you follow it, grinding down against the leather with a soft sigh of pleasure. He hooks his fingers through the tether around your wrists and draws you forward by it, his knee pressing between your breasts, your bound hands resting on his thigh.

“Don’t take much t’get you moanin’, do it, sweetie?” He baits, mouth curved in a crooked smile. You roll your hips with a soft keen, shaking your head. You were already tingling all over from the slow way he’d undressed you, and now that ache is growing rapidly into thrumming need. He whistles lowly. “All that noise for a li’l friction.”

He bucks his boot against your cunt, wringing a cry out of you. You screw your eyes shut, clutching at his pant leg while you roll your hips, embarrassed by how right he is. Everything he does is electrifying, and his honied voice in your ears helps turn the curve of his boot into the most exquisite touch you’ve ever known.

With his teeth, Cooper tugs off his glove and touches your cheek with warm, rough fingers. His bare thumb hooks your bottom lip, easing it open until you taste the salt of his skin pressing down on your tongue. “Or just didn’t want to…” He echoes through a frayed laugh, sounding equal parts amused and wistful at your words on his tongue. “Y’got no idea what I’d do to this sweet mouth if I could.” He presses his thumb deeper, watching with dark eyes as you start to suck. “What I’d give t’see how pretty you cry, chokin’ on my cock.”

He paints such a pretty picture that you long for it, too. Releasing his thumb with a breathy sound, you open your mouth. “More,” you say, your breaths shallow. “I want more.”

His own chest is heaving with each breath, his tongue caught between his teeth. He slips two fingers into your mouth, pushing them all the way to the knuckle. You both moan with it, pressure creeping slowly up your spine. He rocks his fingers in and out, and you start to match his pace, grinding against his boot as fast as his fingers fuck your mouth. 

Catching on, he kicks his pace up a notch, captivated by the pull of your lips, the shimmer of your saliva on his weathered skin. You can see it in his eyes, how he loses himself in your pleasure as if it’s his own, filling in the gaps with faded memories. He pushes in a third finger, teeth raking over his bottom lip. You push your tongue between them, over them, sucking and lapping as if it really is his cock in your mouth. 

“Fuck, darlin’,” he hisses, pulling sharply on your bindings. You make a noise around his fingers, so close to the peak of release that your lungs begin to seize, throat quieting. It’s pure agony when Cooper abruptly hauls you up onto your knees, halting your ascension. “C’mere,” he growls, all grit and throaty need. His fingers slip from your mouth and he manhandles you up into his lap, bringing you into a straddle over him, your bound wrists thrown over the back of his neck.

The same fingers he had halfway down your throat now move between your thighs, pressing into your slick, yielding body with two wet fingers in one deep push. You groan, the burning ache of it so good your eyes roll back. His free hand skirts up the length of your torso to the underside of your breast, kneading soft flesh with a rough hand. Then, so quick all you can do is gasp, he pushes the weight of it upward, meeting pearl-soft skin with lips, tongue and teeth.

All the while his fingers sink deeper, moving faster. He adds a third and you strain against your binds, arching your back, pressing your chest into his hungry mouth. He scissors his fingers, determined to make you feel every inch he fills you with.

“C-Cooper…” You keen, shivering for the hot slide of his tongue over your nipple, how he sucks it into his mouth.

Pulling off with a wet pop, he drags his tongue up the line between your breasts, greedy for the taste of you. “Shh, shh,” he hushes, already teasing a fourth finger. His breath is hot on your damp skin. “Just a little more, you can take it,” he says, pressing his thumb to your clit, rubbing circles to soothe the burn of being filled so suddenly.

“I can’t, I can’t,” you protest, nails biting into your own hands, eyes screwed shut.

“Y’already there, sugar,” he rumbles, each word rougher than the last. He’s right, you’re seated in the crook between his thumb and index finger, so full of him that your thighs are trembling from the strain of it. He rocks his hand slowly, fucking you deep, crooking his fingers until a sharp jolt of pleasure makes you shudder. “Doin’ good, takin’ everything I give you. That’s it. Go on, pretty bird. Sing me a song.”

Your eyes meet, both bleary and wild. You could lose yourself in the darkness of his gaze, and given his insatiable hunger, you know he would swallow you whole. You moan for him, sing his praise with the breathlessness of your voice, with the sway of your hips as you pick up his rhythm. He nods absently, watching you with such voracious wonder, you feel beyond yourself. Half human, half embodiment of pleasure. 

The meteoric rise back to the cusp of your climax feels like flying, your stomach tightening, the velvet walls of your cunt throbbing and squeezing his fingers so tightly, you feel their every slide.

You come hard on his fingers, crying out just before the height of your pleasure seizes you. Cooper watches every second of your release, his own lids flickering, though he never blinks. He slips his arm around your body and pulls you to him, naked skin pressed snug against leather and tattered fabric. You collapse into him, held up only by his grip and the tether binding your hands around his neck.

He holds you through the aftermath, savors every last wet quiver of your cunt around his fingers. His thrusts slow, but he doesn’t stop until–in a quaking breath–you beg him to. His fingers settle in deep, lingering a moment before he slides them free. The relief of escape from overstimulation is rivaled only by the awful emptiness that his fingers leave in you. You clench your shaking thighs on either side of him so that he might understand.

Stay.

Either he understands, or he simply isn’t through with you. His gloved hand slides up and down your back, thumb brushing the back of your neck on every upward swipe. Before long you hear a decidedly wet slurp, and you lift your head from his shoulder to look at him through euphoria addled eyes.

One by one, Cooper licks every one of his slick fingers clean, purring his approval. “Not even decades of radiation poisoning can erase the taste of good pussy,” he says, voice low and lazy. “And this, darlin'? Gourmet."

You smile, heat rushing up your chest to your cheeks. “I think you have an addiction,” you say, a slight slur to your words. You roll your fingers, which tingle faintly, the rope taking its toll on your circulation.

He clicks his tongue, hands settling on your hips. His hands are warm, and his touch erupts goosebumps up your spine. “Y’say that like it’s a problem. Gonna cut me off?”

“As your dealer, it’s in my best interest to encourage said addiction,” you say, cocking your head. Up close like this, focused only on each other’s eyes, it’s easy to forget he’s anything other than a man. His eyes are beautiful, the color of sand in that fleeting hour of sunset that turns the whole world gold. Not even the hole left from the decay of his nose takes away from the beauty of them. Truth be told, you find the whole of him entirely too handsome. “Besides, I find myself similarly afflicted.”

His lips split into a slow smile. “Y’somethin’ rare, darlin’. Fine company’s scarcer than clean water these days.”

Another wave of heat washes through you, but this time it concentrates in your chest, coiling around your heart and squeezing. “You’re just not used to talking to people who know how to read,” you say, trying and failing to swallow back the sentimentality swelling in your throat.

He chuckles. It’s a rare sound, one that does nothing for the growing affection suffocating your heart. “True, true.” He already admitted that the way you spoke is what caught his attention in the first place.

“Say…” You begin, hesitant. “You remember what I said to you when we first met? Down in the bar.”

Gently, Cooper lifts your arms from around his neck, setting your hands between your bodies. He blows out a breath and starts untying your hands. “I’m old, sweetness. Refresh my memory.” 

"I told you I wasn't for sale," you remind him, blood rushing back into your hands with the removal of the rope. You rub them together.

He makes a small noise of recollection, winding the rope around his hand. “Y’did.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” you say, watching him carefully.

His gaze flickers up to yours, searches your expression. He can tell you’re guarding it, and his own sobers in response. “Dare I ask the cost?”

"Love,” you blurt out, far more graceless than you’d been in your mind. His eyes widen a fraction, caught off guard. In any other moment you’d be smug about that, but now it’s precarious. Whatever nebulous sentiment exists between the two of you, you know it’s fragile. “Love. Yours, or just… mine. The cost is love.”

“Y’don’t love me, sweetheart,” he says, but the gentleness of his words does nothing to dissuade you. It only worsens the yearning in your heart.

“You don’t get to decide that,” you say, a frown tugging at your lips. 

He’s quiet for a moment, gauging you. “Y’don’t know me.”

“You let on more than you think you do,” you counter, hands braced on his chest. “I might not know everything about your life, but I know you.”

You know he read westerns and science fiction novels written by a man named Louis L’Amour, but confessed to liking his poetry best. You know the variations in his smiles. You know the sound he makes when he gets up from sleep, stiff-limbed and weary. You know him in intimacy. You know how he craves  peace and grace in the warmth of your body. If blinded and deafened, you would know his touch.

Whether he likes it or not, you know him the way souls know each other.

His eyes drift away as if he’s leery about you seeing anything more than you have. “What you’re lookin’ for, y’not gonna get it from me. I’m burnt out, darlin’. All dried up.”

“I’m not asking for more than you’ve given,” you say, trying not to let the terrible ache in your chest color your tone. You could scream at him for how wrong he is. How much left of him there is to love. “I’m telling you that I have more to give, and I want you to have it.”

“I wouldn’t even know what t’do with it anymore,” he says, gazing somewhere distant.

You wish he’d at least look at you as you bled your heart. “Nothing you haven’t already done, if that’s what you want.”

“Then why say anything at all?” He asks, an edge creeping into his tone. He does finally look at you, the lines of his expression as guarded as they were the first day you met him. “If y’didn’t want t’change things, why say anything?”

You stiffen to keep from shrinking away. You want this too badly to let him spook you now. 

“So that you know,” you say, choosing your words carefully. Each one feels sharp on your tongue, too honest. Too vulnerable. You’re giving him too much power with each one that falls. “I’m telling you so that you know I love you. I’m telling you because if I don’t, I might explode with it,” you say, fervency climbing in your voice, spurred on by the beginning sting of rejection. “I’m telling you for me. Is it easier to accept my love if it’s selfish?”

There it is again, that flicker across his face. Whatever he expected to hear, it wasn’t that. Slowly, Cooper removes his other glove, dropping it to the wayside. With that same hand, he brings his knuckles to your face, ghosts the heat of them down your cheek.

“Y’deserve better than half measures from a broken old man,” he says so quietly, you strain to hear each word. “Most of me’s always gonna be out in the sands, lookin’ for what’s lost. That’s no life for you.”

Taking his hand in yours, you hesitate a beat before you start to place gentle kisses on his every first knuckle. “Maybe. Maybe not,” you say between kisses, not meeting his eye yet. You’ve never been quite so openly affectionate. “But it’s like you said… Fine company is scarce,” you say, kissing each second knuckle next. “Don’t deny me the best I’ve ever known.”

His smile is reticent, tugged from the corner of his mouth as if by an invisible string. There’s something wistful in his expression. He watches you kiss the pads of his fingers next, the prints of them long worn away and replaced with thick calluses. His thumb is last. You give it a playful little nip, lest the softness of your lips scare him off.

Cooper slips his hand out of yours, the wistfulness of his gaze replaced with somber resignation. “M’sorry, darlin,” he murmurs, cupping either side of your face. 

Your stomach drops, the bitter stench of a goodbye settling into the air between you. You remind yourself that you knew this might happen. You repeat the thought again and again, as if being right will make it hurt less.

His thumbs stroke over your cheeks. “If I were a better man, a stronger man,” he says, gaze dipping to your lips. “I’d walk away for good.”

Your brows furrow. “Wh–”

He kisses you with such gentleness it breaks you apart. Your hands fly to his jacket, holding him to you. It’s as if the entire world spins on its axis, your stomach flipping wildly with it. It leaves you floating, tethered only by the grips you have on each other. What begins as a chaste press quickly heats up into a gnawing hunger, his tongue slipping into your mouth, your teeth scraping his bottom lip.

“Lucky for me that I ain’t even a good man,” he says, words peppered between kisses. 

The world spins again, but this time you really are moving through the air. You let out a yelp as Cooper flips you onto the bed, kissing a trail down your naked chest. You’ve felt his tongue and his teeth, but never the reverent press of his lips. As if you’ve only just given him permission to see you as something more than a tool for vicarious pleasure, he touches your body the way a superstitious man worships–full of intent and genuine belief.

“Cooper,” you sigh, smiling. “It’s my turn to touch you,” you remind him, tugging at the shoulder of his tattered jacket. The most he’s ever taken off is that jacket and his hat, but you want more.

He looks up at you from between your breasts, hesitating a beat. “You should know that it only gets uglier ‘neath the collar, sugar.”

“You’re not ugly,” you tell him. At his skeptical expression, you continue, “I’ve seen ugly. Heard it, felt it. You’re not ugly. Not to me.”

He quirks a hairless brow and lets out an incredulous little breath, adjusting himself onto his knees between your legs, swayed. “Y’might consider glasses,” he tells you, shrugging out of his coat. 

You hook your legs over his and use them as leverage to sit up, reaching for the buttons of his vest. “That might not end well for you,” you say coyly, popping each one loose. 

“I’m used to it,” he says, leaning down for another kiss. This, too, is reverence. He takes his time, savoring the feel of your lips against his, licking the taste of you from them like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever known. With his vest open, you work on his undershirt next, tugging them loose while sucking on his tongue.

Halfway down, he stills your hand with a firm grip on your wrist. “That’ll do,” he tells you, voice little more than a rasp. You bite back a protest and nod, understanding that this is likely more exposed than he’s been in a long, long time. You push back into the kiss and press your hand to his chest, sliding slowly down. 

The skin beneath is as gnarled as old tree bark, pitted in places and scarred in most. For as durable as ghouls are, Cooper’s skin has been shredded and torn and riddled with bullets enough times that parts of his body have taken hold of those memories forever, formed around them.

You treat them gently, tracing them with your fingertips. You feel unreasonably powerful when he shivers subtly beneath your touch. You press your hand flat to his heart to hold the beat of it in your palm. It’s slow, but each thud is strong. You break from him with a deep breath, dizzy from the way he makes your head spin with each kiss.

“Lie down,” you say breathlessly. You’re almost surprised when he does, unaccustomed to taking so much control. You cozy up against him, laying your head where your hand had been a moment ago, and close your eyes. His heartbeat sounds just as it felt. Steady, firm, slow. You imagine the radiation has scarred him inside and out, left his heart thick and misshapen as well. Alive nonetheless.

After a brief hesitation, Cooper’s arm slips around your waist. His thumb caresses your hip. “For what it’s worth,” he begins, his tone overly conversational, masking whatever true feeling lurks beneath. “I won’t hold you to none of it. Not if y’get sick of it.”

If you get sick of him, he means.

You tip your head back to look up at him. His gaze is affixed to the ceiling, but you can see apprehension in his distant expression. You drop your eyes, nuzzling your cheek against his chest. His hand cups the back of your head in response, stroking. You smile faintly, soaking in all these little affections. You wonder how long he’s been holding back from touching you like this, denying himself such simple intimacies in order to maintain a distance he didn’t feel, but deemed necessary.

“You’re wrong, Cooper.”

“‘Bout what?”

“You are a good man.”

He goes quiet at that. The two of you lie there a long while, his hands absently roaming your body like he’s committing you to memory. Your hands do the same, dipping under the hem of his shirt to explore further. He hooks his knuckle under your chin, tips your head back to kiss you languidly.

There’s a surreal domestic feel to the unhurriedness of it all, as if he won’t be gone to the winds come morning. You make a home of this moment in your mind, constructing four walls in which to imagine another life. The kind you’ve read about in tattered books and seen on fuzzy old screens.

All the while Cooper holds you, his lips never long from your skin.

You eventually find your way under the covers together, past the point of words. You drape yourself back down against him, your ear finding the chamber of his heart once more. You fall asleep listening to the beat of it, content for now to take each day you spend with him as they come.

#the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #x reader #fallout fanfic #the ghoul

[icallhimjoey]

Hey bestie just wondering if u could do a little comfort one shot of our joey, context:

Starting our period in the middle of work(specifically retail but like a 6hr shift) and coming home grumpy and wanting comfort from Joe?

Pls and thank you🤍

fuck off i can TASTE this request in my bones, what the FUCK - thanks for sending it in babes, love you, mwah 🤍 Wordcount: 1.8K

---

What Else?

"Babe!" Joe called when he heard the front door go, and he sounded all chipper.

All happy that you were home. Upbeat, and in a good mood. Dripping with joy. Excited to see you, and enthusiastic, and all eager and... no. That was wrong. That was all wrong.

You were none of those things and didn't have any patience for any of those things.

You silently debated ignoring him and slipping into the shower to melt yourself down the drain. Joe hadn't done anything wrong, but it just so happened that the universe had. It wasn't Joe's fault that he was part of that, but he was, and so, one plus one equalled no patience for Joe.

"Babe?" Joe sounded a bit more unsure when you didn't answer him.

"No." you just replied, your voice as flat as you could manage it still.

Joe was going to have to leave you alone for a bit. Not get too close or look you in the eye. You know, for his own safety.

But then you heard rushed footsteps.

"No? What do you mean, no?"

Joe stepped into the hallway and the boy looked like he'd just had the most leisurely day ever, which was wrong.

Wrong thing to look like.

You very much hadn't had a leisurely day, so no one else was allowed to have had one, either.

You were tired, and in a mood, and all your face wanted to do was frown, and if Joe knew what was good for him he'd wipe that stupid smile right off of his face as he closed in on you and curled his arms around your head to hug your face.

He pressed his cheek to yours, and you allowed it.

Just for a second, though.

The kiss he then pressed to your cheek was too much.

Wrong.

"I've got balled up toilet paper in my underwear." you made it sound like a warning. Like Joe was on thin ice, somehow.

"Oh..." Joe said in casual surprise before trying to get another wet kiss in that you leant away from as you frowned deeper and pushed him back.

He hadn't picked up on the cautionary advice you actually never shared.

Wrong.

"Don't touch me."

"Okay, sorry!" Joe comically stepped back and held both his hands up. "Can I touch you when your underwear no longer contains balled up toilet paper?"

You pushed him aside as you made your way to the bathroom.

"No."

Yes, he could. He better. If Joe wasn't going to be nice to you, you'd be even less fun to be around.

"No?" Joe double-checked.

Yes.

"No." You double-downed.

You disappeared into the bathroom and locked the door behind you, and you heard Joe chuckle.

Chuckle.

"Fuck you."

Joe was a bad boyfriend and you could fucking cry.

"Okay." Joe lightly scolded, having obviously heard the soft swearing from inside the bathroom, humour still evident in his voice from behind the door. "Take a second and come find me after."

You had to take a moment to breathe, eyes closed, nostrils flared. If you didn't, you'd lash out and say something you didn't mean. You meant the fuck you. Joe was an adult and could read the room and be gentle instead of laugh at you.

You heard him leave the hallway before you sighed deeply, turned on the shower, and let your brain go silent to the white noise of the water stream.

You washed your hair in the first minute, then sat down and decided you could just stay there for the evening. With your back against the tiles, you hugged your knees tightly, chin atop. Blanketed by the warm water and hidden away from everything else.

Perfect.

After about twenty minutes of sitting in the shower, you heard the door unlock and open.

Joe placed the butterknife he used to break in next to the sink and reached into the shower to turn it off.

"Come on, baby,"

Joe had to squat to help you up.

"Time to dry off."

You wordlessly let yourself be helped onto your feet, and then groaned slightly when Joe held up a big fluffy towel that you stepped into. He hugged you over it as you let yourself sink into him. Joe made sure to hug and squeeze you all over, shifting his arms up and down your body, and it was arguably the best way to get dry after a shower.

"My feet are sore," you complained, eyes wet. "I never want to work again."

"My poor baby," Joe cooed sincerely. "What else?"

"I've got a headache."

"You do?" Joe moved the towel to softly dab your face, careful gentle touches near your eyes, dabbing away shower water as well as the beginnnigs of tears.

"And I want to pull my uterus out of my stomach."

"That sounds messy." Joe kneeled as he dried your legs.

It was so devastating to be upset over a discomfort that you just had to accept, because you were born like this. It was unfair.

"I think I might've bruised my vagina with the toilet paper."

"Hmm," Joe looked, and it seemed fine, but what did he know? He had never had to fold up single ply toiletpaper enough times for it to resemble a pad.

"What else?" Joe's voice was smooth like velvet, no making fun. Just comfort.

"I want to commit a murder."

Joe dried the tops of your feet as you wiped at your face, hot tears of frustration now passing your lashline.

"People are the w-worst and they all need to die."

Joe leant back on his heels and looked up at you, brow creased in what appeared to be genuine sympathy. You thought he may say something reasonable, like, not all people, or whatever. But he didn't. Instead he just cocked his head to the side a little and asked,

"What else?"

That made you sob.

"I want..." you started, breath stuttering. "I want– I'm leaking." You felt the trickle of period blood and Joe was quick to swoop in, getting it before you could even look down to see the damage.

"What else, baby? What do you want?" he distracted.

"I want... chocolate. Sugar."

Joe dried you off completely, cleaned and wiped what needed cleaning and wiping and then found a tampon where you kept them.

"I want it to rain, and I want it to be autumn."

You were crying and being unreasonable and it felt great whilst simultaneously feeling the worst.

"Who designed the female bod-dy? Who th-thought of the concept of it? They got it wrong. It's all wrong."

Joe moved like he was going to help insert the tampon, a move that would've made you laugh had you been in a better mood. Now, it just made you take the cotton from his hands as you listed off more things that were wrong with the world.

"My stomach hurts, a-and I'm mad at the government."

Joe just listened. Helped you dress into soft comfortable clothes. Encouraged you to get all of your complaints out. It'd leave the world feeling lighter, he knew. He'd dealt with you on days like these before.

Was nothing new.

He couldn't right any of the wrongs, but he could be sweet and love you with a bit more care than usual.

When you eventually ended up on the sofa together, you were ready to lay down right on top, but Joe stopped you just before you did.

"Can't rub your feet like that. You said you had sore feet, right?"

The way that made your lip wobble made Joe easily accept you in his arms, the way you wanted to lay with him in the first place. He'd get your feet later.

Joe made space between his legs to accommodate you.

With his back comfortably pushed into the sofa cushions and you rubbing your face into the fabric of his T-shirt that covered his chest, Joe decided to ask just one more time.

"Hey," he whispered, wrapping a leg around one of yours. "What else?"

You took a moment to think, but came up blank.

There was nothing else left. You were still annoyed, and tired, and dealing with a dull pain in your lower stomach, but you'd mentioned all of those things already.

There was something you hadn't yet said though.

"M'sorry," you murmured, meaning it with your full chest, but voice only coming out small.

Joe smiled, and he could've made a small joke. Poked fun, just a little.

He didn't.

"I'm sorry I was mean."

Joe just kissed the top of your head

"Can you..." you began, moving a hand up to swipe your wet hair aside.

"Yea of course," Joe's hand found the hem of your T-shirt to pull up, revealing your bare back. You didn't need to finish the question for Joe to know what you were asking for as his finger tips started slowly trailing up and down your back.

Joe felt how you sunk into him more. Felt how your breath was just a strange inhale away from letting emotions seep through the cracks once more. How you burrowed into him even more than he thought was really even possible.

This was all you'd really needed since the moment you'd walked in.

And he'd tried.

He'd called for you.

Knew you'd had a long shift that day.

But you hadn't been ready then.

You'd needed to get a bunch of things out of your system first.

Joe knew.

Knew you.

Joe's tickling fingers felt like heaven, tracing up and down your back inside of your shirt. It was strange how you felt both heavy and light, limbs like lead, but your mind sort of floaty.

You sighed into him as you felt Joe's other leg close in on you, caging you in.

"I really am sorry. When I said no, before, when you asked if you could touch me, I didn't mean that. I didn't mean no."

"Hmm," Joe hummed, and swallowed everything he could say about how he knew you hadn't meant no. How he knew you. There was a reason why he knew how to easily break into the bathroom.

"That's okay. I get to touch you now, don't I?"

You smiled, embarrassed because of your own earlier childish lies.

Joe was a good boyfriend.

"I get to touch you, and hug you, and feel you, and," Joe strained his neck to press a kiss against your hairline. "And kiss you..."

You melted under his affection, and decided you had an important question to ask him as well.

"Yea?" you planted you chin on his chest and looked at your boyfriend, double chins and all, as he looked down at you, gaze warm and dripping with sweet honeyed love for you.

You tried returning it as best you could.

"What else?"

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @gri959, @hanahkatexo

@harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven

@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories

@phyllosilicate-s, @readergf, @royale1803, @sherrylyn0628, @solzi1420

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x reader #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x Y/N #joe quinn x Y/N #icallhimjoey #what else

[estellan0vella]

Cheater, Cheater ❀ includes: Gojo, Nanami, Sukuna, Toji, Yuta, Megumi, Yuji & Toge (REQUESTED)

Masterlist

The air is thick with an unspoken tension as you step into the apartment you share with Satoru. You’re barely inside when you hear his voice, tinged with an emotion you’ve never heard from him before—vulnerability.

"Where were you?" he asks, his tone deceptively casual. His eyes, usually so full of life and mischief, now bore into you with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

You hesitate, searching for the right words, but they don’t come. Instead, an awkward silence stretches between you, growing heavier with each passing second.

"I asked you a question," he repeats, more insistent this time. There’s an edge to his voice that sends a shiver down your spine.

"Out," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Just out."

Satoru's eyes narrow, and you know he doesn’t believe you. He steps closer, his presence almost overwhelming. "With who?"

You feel the walls closing in around you, the weight of your guilt pressing down. "A friend," you lie, but the words taste bitter on your tongue.

"Which friend?" he presses, and you can see the hurt in his eyes now, a crack in the confident facade he always wears.

"Nanami," you admit, your voice trembling. "I was with Nanami."

There’s a moment of stunned silence, and then Satoru lets out a bitter laugh. "Nanami. Of course. I should’ve known."

He turns away from you, running a hand through his hair, his fingers trembling. You can see the pain etched into his features, the betrayal cutting deep.

"I trusted you," he says softly, almost to himself. "I trusted him."

You take a step forward, wanting to reach out, to explain, but he flinches away from your touch. "Don’t," he snaps, his voice breaking. "Don’t touch me."

"I’m sorry," you whisper, tears streaming down your face. "I didn’t mean for it to happen. It just...did."

Satoru shakes his head, a hollow laugh escaping his lips. "That's not good enough," he says. "You don’t just ‘accidentally’ betray someone you love."

The silence that follows is suffocating. You can see the war raging within him, the desire to forgive you battling against the overwhelming sense of betrayal.

"I need you to leave," he says finally, his voice void of emotion. "I can’t...I can’t look at you right now."

Your heart shatters at his words, but you know you deserve this. You gather your things, the weight of your actions hanging heavy over you. As you reach the door, you turn back one last time, hoping to see some sign of the man you love.

But all you see is a broken Satoru, staring out the window, lost in his pain. And you know, deep down, that things will never be the same again.

You’re sitting in your living room, the air heavy with tension. Nanami had left for work earlier today, and you didn’t expect him back until later this evening. Gojo, however, is here, lounging casually on the couch, his ever-present smirk playing on his lips.

You’ve known for a while that what you’re doing is wrong, the guilt gnawing at you each time you’re in his presence, but there’s something about Gojo that makes you forget your reservations, your commitments.

The sound of the front door creaking open sends a jolt through your body. You scramble to disentangle yourself from Gojo, but it’s too late. Nanami stands at the entrance, his usually composed demeanor shattered. His eyes, those calm, steady eyes that have always been your rock, are wide with disbelief and hurt.

“Kento…” you start, but your voice trails off. What can you possibly say to make this right?

Nanami’s gaze shifts from you to Gojo, who remains infuriatingly nonchalant. “I came home early,” he says, his voice strained, a brittle edge to it that you’ve never heard before. “I thought I’d surprise you.”

Silence hangs in the air, thick and oppressive. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, the shame too overwhelming. Gojo finally stands, his expression softening just slightly as he regards Nanami.

“Kento, man, this isn’t what it looks like,” Gojo says, but even he doesn’t seem convinced by his own words.

“Isn’t it?” Nanami’s voice cracks, and you flinch. “Because it looks like I’ve been a fool.”

He takes a step forward, and you can see the tremor in his hands, the raw emotion he’s struggling to contain. “I trusted you,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “I loved you.”

Tears blur your vision, and you reach out, desperate to touch him, to bridge the chasm that’s opened between you. “Kento, I’m so sorry. Please, let me explain.”

But he steps back, shaking his head. “There’s nothing to explain,” he says, the finality in his tone like a dagger to your heart. “I see everything I need to.”

Gojo clears his throat, looking uncharacteristically serious. “Nanami, maybe we should all just sit down and—”

“No,” Nanami interrupts, his voice steely. “There’s nothing left to say.” He turns his back on you, the finality of his movement like a closing door.

You want to call out to him, to beg for another chance, but the words die in your throat. You watch him leave, the door clicking shut behind him, and the reality of what you’ve lost crashes down on you.

Gojo places a hand on your shoulder, but his touch feels cold and distant. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, but it’s a hollow comfort.

The weight of your actions settles heavily on your chest. You’ve broken something precious, something you may never be able to mend. And as the tears finally fall, you realize that the hardest part is knowing that you’ve shattered the heart of the one person who loved you unconditionally

The grand halls of the palace echo with the sound of your hurried footsteps. You feel a mix of guilt and excitement thrumming through your veins as you make your way to the secluded garden where you and the servant, Haruto, have been meeting in secret for months. The afternoon sun filters through the lush trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground. Haruto is already there, his eyes lighting up when he sees you.

For a moment, the world feels perfect. He pulls you into his arms, and you feel the familiar comfort of his embrace. But the moment is shattered when a powerful voice, filled with rage and betrayal, rings out through the garden.

"Sneaking around behind my back, are you?" Sukuna's voice is like a death knell, freezing you in place.

You turn to see him standing at the edge of the clearing, his crimson eyes blazing with fury. The air around him crackles with a dark, ominous energy that makes your heart pound in your chest. Haruto steps protectively in front of you, but you know it’s futile. Nothing can protect you from Sukuna's wrath.

"Haruto, run!" you plead, but Sukuna's laughter cuts through the air, cold and merciless.

"Run? There's nowhere he can go that I can't reach."

In an instant, Sukuna is upon Haruto. The servant tries to fight back, but it's hopeless. With a swift, brutal motion, Sukuna plunges his hand into Haruto's chest. You scream as blood splatters, staining the grass red. Haruto's lifeless body crumples to the ground, and you fall to your knees beside him, tears streaming down your face.

Sukuna grabs you by the arm and yanks you to your feet. His grip is painfully tight, his face inches from yours, twisted with a mix of anger and something that looks disturbingly like satisfaction.

"You thought you could betray me and get away with it?" His voice is a deadly whisper. "You're mine, and I don't share."

He drags you back to the palace, his grip unyielding. You barely have time to register the shocked faces of the other servants and guards as you pass by. Your mind is reeling from what just happened, the reality of Haruto's death, and the terror of what Sukuna will do next.

He throws you into his chambers and slams the door shut. The sound reverberates through the room, final and absolute. You scramble to your feet, backing away from him as he approaches. His eyes are still burning with anger, but there is a cold, calculated edge to them now.

"You will stay here," he says, his voice a low growl. "You will not leave these chambers until the day you die. I will make sure of that."

The weight of his words sinks in, and you feel a crushing despair. The room seems to close in around you, a gilded cage where you will live out the rest of your days under his watchful eye. The man you once loved is now your captor, and there is no escape.

Sukuna steps closer, his hand gripping your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. "Remember this, my little dove. You are mine. And I do not tolerate betrayal."

As he releases you, you collapse onto the floor, sobbing. The reality of your situation is a heavy, suffocating cloak that you can’t escape from. You hear the door lock behind him as he leaves, the final sound of your freedom being stripped away.

You are alone in the silence, haunted by the memory of Haruto’s lifeless eyes and the cold, unyielding reality of your new prison.

You’re sitting in the dimly lit room, the air heavy with the scent of incense, your fingers tangled with Shiu’s. His eyes meet yours, and there's a mix of guilt and desire there. Your heart races, a conflicted beat that thrums louder as the minutes tick by. The forbidden nature of this encounter only adds fuel to the fire between you two, an intoxicating mix of danger and passion.

Suddenly, the door slams open with a force that shakes the walls. Your head snaps up, your heart freezing as you see Toji standing in the doorway. His eyes, usually so cold and calculating, blaze with a fury that makes your blood run cold. For a moment, the room is silent, the weight of his rage suffocating.

“Toji…” you begin, but your voice falters under his intense gaze.

“Save it,” he snarls, his voice a low, dangerous growl that sends a shiver down your spine. He strides forward, each step deliberate, his presence overpowering. Shiu stands, trying to shield you with his body, but Toji’s hand shoots out, gripping Shiu by the collar and lifting him off the ground with terrifying ease.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve,” Toji hisses, his face inches from Shiu’s. Shiu struggles, but Toji’s grip is unyielding, his strength undeniable. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? That you could touch what’s mine and get away with it?”

“Toji, stop!” you cry, rushing to intervene. You grab his arm, trying to pull him back, but he’s like an immovable mountain. His eyes flicker to you, and the betrayal in them cuts deeper than any blade. “It’s not what you think—”

“Not what I think?” he laughs, a bitter, humourless sound. “I think I just walked in on my girlfriend fucking my handler. How am I wrong?”

“Toji, please, just let him go. This is between you and me,” you plead, desperation creeping into your voice. "I'm sorry okay?"

For a moment, something like hurt flashes across Toji’s face, but it’s quickly replaced by cold, hard fury. He releases Shiu, who falls to the floor, gasping for breath. Toji turns his full attention to you, his eyes boring into yours.

“You think a fucking apology will fix this?” he asks, his voice low and deadly. “You think anything will make this right?”

You open your mouth to respond, but the words die in your throat. The intensity of his anger, the depth of his hurt, it’s all too much. He steps closer, towering over you, his presence dominating.

“You were mine,” he growls, his voice trembling with barely restrained rage. “I trusted you, and you threw it away for… this?”

His words cut deep, the reality of your actions crashing down on you. You reach out, trying to touch him, to make him understand, but he recoils as if your touch burns him.

“I… I made a mistake,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “I still love you, Toji.”

For a moment, something shifts in his eyes, a flicker of the love you once shared. But then it’s gone, replaced by a cold, hard resolve. He steps back, his expression closing off.

“You made your choice,” he says, his voice like ice. “Now you have to live with it.”

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, the weight of your actions crashing down around you. The door slams shut behind him, and the silence that follows is deafening. You sink to the floor, tears streaming down your face, the enormity of what you’ve lost hitting you like a tidal wave.

You hear the door click open and the familiar sound of Yuta's footsteps entering the room. Your heart sinks, a wave of guilt crashing over you. Toge is beside you, his eyes widening with shock as he quickly pulls away. You scramble to sit up, panic flooding your senses.

Yuta stands in the doorway, his face a mask of confusion and hurt. "What's going on?" he asks, his voice trembling. His eyes flicker between you and Toge, piecing together the betrayal.

"Yuta, I…" you start, but your voice falters. You see the pain in his eyes, the betrayal cutting deep. You never wanted it to come to this, never wanted to hurt him.

Toge shifts uncomfortably, unable to speak but his expression filled with regret. Yuta takes a step back, his hand gripping the doorframe as if to steady himself. "Why?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "How could you do this?"

You swallow hard, the words sticking in your throat. "Yuta, I love you, but…"

"But what?" he interrupts, desperation creeping into his tone. "But what?"

"But I love Toge too," you confess, the truth spilling out. "With Toge, I don't have to compete with Rika."

Yuta's face contorts with pain, his eyes searching yours for any sign of deception. "Rika? This is about Rika?"

You nod, tears welling up in your eyes. "She's always there, Yuta. She's always with us. I feel like I'm constantly living in her shadow, like I'll never be enough for you because of her."

Yuta's shoulders slump, the weight of your words crashing down on him. "Rika is my past," he says softly, "but you're my present. I chose you, [Y/N]. I love you."

"I know," you whisper, your voice breaking. "But it doesn't feel like enough. With Toge, I feel free. I don't have to compete with a memory."

Toge looks away, guilt etched across his face. Yuta takes a deep breath, his eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and understanding. "I never wanted you to feel like you had to compete," he says, his voice strained. "I never wanted you to feel like you weren't enough."

You reach out to him, your hand trembling. "I'm sorry, Yuta. I never wanted to hurt you."

He looks at your hand, then back at you, pain and sadness warring in his eyes. "I need some time," he says finally, stepping back. "I need to figure out how to process this."

You nod, tears streaming down your face. "Take all the time you need," you whisper.

Yuta turns and walks out the door, leaving you and Toge alone in the heavy silence. The weight of your choices settles around you, the future uncertain and fraught with the consequences of your actions.

The room feels thick with an uncomfortable silence. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, heart pounding in your chest. Megumi is standing in the doorway, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief. You don’t know how long he’s been there, but it’s long enough to have seen everything.

Yuji is next to you, his expression a mirror of your own guilt. The air between the three of you is heavy, suffocating. Megumi’s face is a mixture of hurt and anger, the betrayal cutting deep into his usually composed demeanor.

“Megumi,” you start, your voice trembling, “I can explain…”

“Explain what?” His voice is cold, sharper than you’ve ever heard it. “Explain how you could do this to me? With him?”

Yuji tries to interject, but Megumi silences him with a glare that could freeze fire. You’ve never seen him like this, and it makes the knot in your stomach tighten painfully.

“It wasn’t planned,” you say, the words feeling hollow even to your own ears. “It just… happened.”

Megumi laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Things like this don’t just happen,” he says. “You made a choice.”

You look down, unable to meet his eyes. You can feel the tears burning at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them back, knowing they won’t make anything better.

Yuji steps forward, his hand reaching out as if to comfort you, but Megumi’s gaze stops him in his tracks. “Don’t,” Megumi snaps. “Just… don’t.”

There’s a long pause, the silence filled with the sound of your own ragged breathing. You want to say something, anything, to make this right, but you know there’s nothing that can.

“I trusted you,” Megumi says quietly, his voice filled with a sadness that cuts deeper than any anger. “I loved you.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Megumi shakes his head, a look of profound disappointment on his face. “Sorry doesn’t fix this. Sorry doesn’t undo what you’ve done.”

He turns to leave, and you feel a desperate urge to stop him, to make him understand that it was a mistake, that you didn’t want to hurt him. But the look in his eyes tells you that it’s too late for that.

As he walks out the door, the weight of your actions crashes down on you, leaving you feeling hollow and broken. You look at Yuji, but his presence only serves as a reminder of your betrayal. The room, once filled with warmth and laughter, now feels cold and empty, echoing with the sound of Megumi’s departure and the shattered remains of what you once had.

The air is charged with a mix of excitement and guilt as you lean in, your lips brushing against Megumi's. The kiss is gentle at first, a tender exchange that quickly deepens with pent-up passion. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as you lose yourself in the moment.

Just as you're about to pull away, the door swings open with a loud crash. You both jump apart, your heart racing in your chest. Yuji stands in the doorway, his eyes wide with shock and betrayal. The sight of him sends a chill down your spine, and you can see the pain etched across his features.

"Yuji..." you begin, but your voice trails off as you struggle to find the right words. The room feels unbearably silent, the weight of your actions hanging heavy in the air.

"What's going on here?" Yuji's voice is barely above a whisper, yet it cuts through you like a knife. His eyes dart between you and Megumi, searching for an explanation that won't come.

Megumi steps forward, his usual calm demeanor replaced by a rare look of vulnerability. "Yuji, we didn't mean for you to find out like this."

Yuji's expression hardens, a mix of hurt and anger flashing in his eyes. "So it's true, then? Todo wasn't lying? You two have been sneaking around behind my back?"

You nod, unable to meet his gaze. "We never wanted to hurt you, Yuji. It just... happened."

"It just happened?" Yuji echoes, his voice rising with each word. "Do you have any idea how that sounds? You were supposed to be my partner. I trusted you both."

The gravity of the situation settles in, and the guilt you've been suppressing comes crashing down. "I'm sorry, Yuji. We didn't want to deceive you. We just didn't know how to tell you."

Yuji takes a step back, running a hand through his hair. "How long has this been going on?"

"About a month," Megumi admits, his voice barely audible. "We never wanted it to come to this. We were planning on telling you, but we didn't know how."

The betrayal in Yuji's eyes is almost too much to bear. "I thought we were a team. I thought we meant something to each other."

"We do, Yuji," you say, desperation creeping into your voice. "We still care about you. This doesn't change that."

"Doesn't change that?" Yuji's laughter is hollow and bitter. "It changes everything. How am I supposed to trust either of you after this?"

Megumi reaches out, but Yuji steps back, avoiding his touch. "Yuji, please. We can work through this."

"Work through this?" Yuji's eyes blaze with anger. "You don't just work through something like this. You shattered my trust. How am I supposed to believe anything you say now?"

The silence that follows is suffocating. You can see the conflict in Yuji's eyes, the struggle between his feelings for you and the pain of your betrayal. Finally, he takes a deep breath, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"I need some time," he says quietly. "I can't deal with this right now."

Before either of you can respond, Yuji turns and walks out of the apartment, the door closing behind him with a finality that sends a shiver down your spine as you lean into Megumi's embrace.

#jjk x reader #jjk smau #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #nanami x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk angst #shiu x reader #megumi x you #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #toji x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #kento x y/n #kento x you #kento x reader #yuji itadori x y/n #yuta x y/n #yuji itadori x you #yuji itadori x reader

[awakenedevildays]

hi love! may I request some angst with art where family friend!reader gets invited to the Donaldson’s yearly fundraiser gala and they spend the night yearning and pining over art. if you can, make it as heart wrenching as possible ♡ thank you and keep up the great work!

「wrong choices」 Art Donaldson x F!reader

I'm so exited, this is the real first fic I write under request, thank you so much for requesting love, hope this is good enough for you! 🩷(didn't know if you wanted a sad or happy ending and I got carried away with an happy one, if you want an angst ending let me know)

info: angst, fluff, kissing, mentions of cheating (on reader), happy ending.

you can read the other parts here!

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

You love galas, you always did: ever since you were little you and your family had to attend many galas and you would always be head over the heels at the idea of dressing with cute dresses and beautiful shoes. Yes, you love galas, especially the Donaldson's.

You've been to the Donaldson family's galas for ages and they never disappoint. No, truly, they know how to put on an event. With beautiful dresses to wear (always wearing the latest from fashion designers), incredible music- every year different- and even the best food in the state; these galas always excite you.

Another thing that made you exited about their galas was the only child of the family: the blonde, blue and brown eyed, sweet guy you met at the first gala you attended at the sweet age of six years old, Art Donaldson.

You've always liked him, when you were little he would take you around his huge villa to play whatever game you two would invent at that moment and at the end of the night your dress and his little tuxedo would be all wrinkled, sometimes dirty, hair all out of place that caused your moms to lightly scold you... at the end neither your mother nor his cared much if at the end of the evening you both looked like you had just returned from a day of planting flowers with your bare hands. 

Things obviously changed as time went on: after Art's 17th and your 16th birthday, at least at the beginning of the evening, you seemed determined to pay attention and talk to the other guests... but it never lasted too long before Art dragged you away with him to share a bottle of wine with your feet immersed in his outdoor pool.

The last year the same thing happened. 

"Art, you can't always kidnap me when I'm talking to someone" you wanted to sound serious, you really did, but his boyish smile was too cute and the expensive wine bottle he had in his hand was too tempting. 

"Come on! don't act like you really wanted to listen to those boring conversations with those boring business men" he said, his hand dragging you by your wrist towards the pool. 

Once you were close enough he released your wrist and took off his shoes and socks, his feet in the water immediately after while you stood there, he looked at you. 

"please" he said and you scolded him with your eyes before shaking your head and taking off your heels and lifted your dress up to your thighs to avoid getting it wet, you sat down next to him, your feet touched the cool water and a sigh left your mouth, you didn't realize how bad they were hurting in the shoes.  

Art grinned at you and you looked ay him skeptical "what" you ask, a fake annoyed look on your face .

"see? even your feet are thanking me" he said and you met his left shoulder with your right one. 

"shut up, you're getting ruder and ruder with each passing year" you joked and Art passed to bottle to you to take the first sip, always the gentleman. 

Art chuckled and watched as you took the first sip, the cool, smooth liquid sliding down your throat. He knew you better than almost anyone and could tell when you were being serious and when you were just acting tough to save face. 

"Don't worry, I know you secretly love me" he teased, nudging your shoulder with his own. Art took the bottle back from you, taking a small sip before speaking again "and besides, I'm not getting ruder, I'm just becoming more charming and witty."

You raised your eyebrows at him and decided not to indulge him any further "so, how is the tennis school going?" you asked and Art shrugged.

"good" he answered with a shrug. 

"and Patrick?". 

"still the same asshole" he laughed "he won't be coming to Standford with me in fall".

 "he's going in another college?" he shook his head. 

"he plans on going on a tour".

"mhhh" you said and Art looked at you suspiciously.

"you seem really interested in Patrick" his tone not as light as it was before and you raised your head to look at him, but he was already looking at the water of the pool, jaw clenched. 

There was something in Art's demeanor change that caught your attention. It was subtle, but palpable. The relaxed and playful atmosphere between you two had shifted, and Art's jaw was now tense. You knew him well enough to realize that something was bothering him, and judging by his comment about Patrick, you had an idea of what it might be. You decided to tread lightly with your next words, wanting to understand what had triggered this sudden change in his mood "what makes you say that?" you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.

"every time we see each other you always ask about him, you saw him only once like what, 3 years ago?" he asked ironically and your eyes widened "okay, slow down Donaldson, where is this all coming from? I'm just trying to have a conversation with you" you said as gently as possible. 

Art leaned back a little, taking another swig from the bottle before responding. His tone was still a little on edge, but he knew you enough to understand you were just trying to calm things down "I know you're just trying to have a conversation, but seriously, why are you so interested in Patrick all of a sudden?" he questioned, his gaze still fixed on the water.

"I'm not interested in Patrick" your tone was serious and suddenly maintaining eyes contact with him was harder. 

Art turned to look at you, his gaze intense, searching yours. He could see the conviction in your eyes and hear it in your tone, but something was still bothering him. He paused a moment before speaking again "then why are you always asking about him?" he asked, his voice a bit softer now.

"Because I care about your life, I care about you and Patrick is a part of your life, that's all, I swear" you didn't know why, but the thought of Art thinking that you had feelings for another man felt wrong but somewhat satisfying.

Art sighed, the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease a little. He could see the truth in your words, and his own jealousy subsided a little. "Sorry" he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I guess I just got a little..." he admitted, his gaze darting from you back to the pool.

"...Jealous? aw aren't you the sweetest friend ever?" you pinched his cheek with your fingers and Art laughed, his hand grasped yours to take it off his cheek, but once away from his face his hand stayed wrapped around your, his thumb caressing the back of it. 

Art's laughter filled the air, breaking the tension between you. The warmth of his hand enclosing yours sent a shiver up your spine, his thumb gently stroking your skin. There was something intimate about the touch, something that defied the boundaries of mere friendship. For a moment, you were both silent, the only sound being the gentle lapping of the water against the sides of the pool. 

Art looked down at your joined hands, his thumb continuing its slow, soothing motion against your skin.

"I'm sorry" he said again and you shook your head. 

"It's okay" you muttered and your eyes met, his blue light of the pool shined on his face, hands still intertwined on his thigh and his eyes looked briefly at your lips. 

"what if, what if I don't want to be your friend" your heart skipped a bit.

"u-uh?" you asked.

Art swallowed hard, his gaze locked with yours. The air around you suddenly felt charged, the casual setting of the poolside now seemed intimate and intense "what are you... what are you saying?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Art's grip on your hand tightened, his thumb still tracing small circles on your skin.

Art leaned a little closer, his eyes still fixed on yours. "What I'm saying is..." he began, his voice low and serious "I don't want to be just your friend anymore" he paused, taking a deep breath before continuing "I don't want to watch you talk and laugh with other men, I can't stand it, it makes me sick".

His words hung in the air between you, the atmosphere thick with tension. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your mind racing with the implications of what he was saying. Art's hand still held yours tightly, almost as if he was afraid to let go, afraid that you might pull away.

"oh" you felt stupid, utterly and absolutely stupid, the guy whom you had a crush for since forever, just confessed to you and the only thing you can say is...'oh'? Art laughed. 

"Don't laugh you asshole!" you exclaimed pushing him away from you, him almost falling in the pool. 

"Can you not like... push me in the pool just cause I confessed to you?" he said between laughters and your cheeks flushed red. 

"I'm sorry you caught me off guard!" you said bringing the bottle to your mouth and taking a big sip, you couldn't have this conversation sober. 

Art finally managed to regain his balance, still laughing as he held onto the side of the pool for support. "It's okay, it's okay" he said, his laughter slowly dying down as he regained his composure.

"But seriously, you can't just say 'oh'" he teased once again, his tone turning playful again as he splashed a bit of water at you jokingly. 

You stayed silent and Art waited for you to answer, it took you all the strength you had to maintain eye contact with him "I like you too" you said, face serious and red cheeks and Art nodded. 

"oh" his tone light was clearly teasing you. 

"ok, now I'm pushing you in the pool on purpose" you said. 

Art burst into laughter at your words, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He held up his hands in surrender "No, no, no, please don't" he said between chuckles but his tone was full of teasing. 

As he spoke, he shifted closer to you, his thigh now touching yours. He reached out and lightly pushed your shoulder, the playful gesture causing a ripple in the water between you.

Art's teasing expression quickly vanished at your words, his hand that was still on your shoulder froze "what?" he asked, his tone slightly sharper than it was before.

"I should ask Patrik if he's single I don't think h-" your joking sentence is interrupted by his lips on yours, a hand behind your head and the other on your thigh and you immediately rested yours on his cheeks. 

Art's lips were soft and firm against yours, the taste of the expensive wine still lingered on his tongue as he kissed you passionately. His hand on your thigh moved to your waist to pulls you closer to him, his fingers digging slightly into your skin through the fabric of your dress. He wanted you as close as possible, as if he couldn't get enough of you.

Your hands moved from his cheeks up to thread through his hair, slightly tugging it and eliciting a low groan from him. He deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing yours. The world around you seemed to disappear as the two of you surrendered to the moment, the cool water of the pool forgotten as the heat between you grew increasingly intense.

Art pulled away from the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, both of you panting slightly. His eyes searched yours, his expression a mix of desire and disbelief. "You're really gonna mention another man while I'm trying to kiss you" he whispered, his voice hoarse and filled with a hint of jealousy.

“I thought you needed a little push to do that" you teased and Art kissed you again briefly "never do that again" he whispered 

The moment in the pool didn't last long after that, your parent messaging you a while after to tell you to get back to the car to go home. 

You and Art kept in contact through his first whole year at Standford but too busy to see each other, you with your last year of high school and him with exams and his tennis matches. 

So now you have one more reason to be exited about the gala of this year, you would see Art again and you couldn't wait to see what would happen this time. 

"You look beautiful" your mom says and you smile at her.

You are standing in your bedroom in front of a full-length mirror admiring yourself in your dress for the gala tonight. The dress is beautiful, hugging your curves perfectly and highlighting your features. You turn and twirl in front of the mirror, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves about tonight.

"Thank you, Mom," you say as she enters the room, a smile on your lips. "I just hope Art likes it too" you add, casually tossing the comment, before mentally kicking yourself for it.

"Please, he's already head over heels for you" she jokes and for the whole drive towards the Donaldson house your legs can't stay still, your hands fussing and stirring your dress over and over again making your parents smile teasingly at you, but you pay them no mind. 

Finally, the car pulls up to the Donaldson's house and your heart beats faster at the sight of the grand, familiar building. You take a deep breath, gathering your courage and excitement, before stepping out of the car, your dress flowing behind you like a gentle whisper on the ground. 

You walk with your parents toward the entrance of the house, the sound of your stilettos echoing on the paved path. 

You step in the garden of the house and Art's parents are already there to greet your family lovingly, Art still nowhere in sight as you walk around with your parents to greet their colleagues and friends and you're only waiting for Art to sweep you off your feet like every year. 

As you continue to mingle with your parents and their friends, you keep an eye out for Art, hoping to catch a glimpse of him among the crowd. The anticipation is driving you insane, and just when you're starting to wonder where he could be, you finally catch sight of him across the garden, talking to a group of people, a girl right beside him.

She is beautiful, dark skin and long black hair that reaches her lower back, long legs and thin body wrapped in a blue short but elegant dress... but what really shocks you is his hand, clearly resting on the small of her back. Your heart stops. Your breath short and you have to grip the champagne glass tighter in your hands to avoid letting it fall on the floor. 

You couldn't believe what you were seeing. Art, your Art, was standing there with another girl, his hand comfortably resting on the small of her back. You couldn't tear your eyes away from them, your thoughts racing as you tried to make sense of the situation.

Arts eyes meets yours from the other side of the garden and his grin disappears when he sees your sad face "oh there is Art" his mom says and gestures for him to come where you are. As he approaches, you can feel his gaze fixed on you, but you don't meet his eyes, looking anywhere but his face until he stops in front of you, his smile faltering when he sees the expression on your face. But before he can say anything, his mother speaks up.

"Art brought one of the promises of the future female tennis tonight" she says and she smiles, you don't. 

Art's mom gestures towards the girl beside him, a proud look on her face. The girl smiles sheepishly, looking shyly at you. Art shifts uncomfortably, his hand dropping from her back as though he's suddenly aware of what it looks like.

You force a smile on your face, despite the churning feeling in your stomach.

"this is Tashi, we met at Standford" he says, his eyes don't meet yours and the lump in your throat is too big to swallow. 

The introduction feels like a dagger twisting in your chest. Tashi smiles at you gently, her eyes soft as her gaze flicks between you and Art.

"Nice to meet you," she says, her voice soft and clear. You nod awkwardly, the sound of your own heartbeat ringing in your ears.

"The pleasure is all mine" the exchange of pleasantries feel like nails scraping on a chalkboard. Your parents politely greet Tashi like they do with every important guest at these events, but even you can see the fake smiles plastered on their faces. They know. 

She is gorgeous and you feel small next to her... you don't get it, your dress is more elegant than hers, more beautiful but she looks so effortlessly gorgeous in hers and you feel like crying. 

The silence that follows feels like a never-ending void. Tashi doesn't speak and Art doesn't as well, his eyes finally meeting yours and you look away immediately, the betrayal in your eyes makes Art's heart clench. Your parents try to make small talk with Tashi, Art's mom jumping in as well but you just stay quiet, your chest tightening and your breath short.

As the conversation turns to the weather, the upcoming year's tennis matches and other mundane topics, your thoughts spiral out of control. Your mind is a mess of thoughts and insecurities. Why did he bring her here? Why is his hand on her back like he owns her? And why, why is he looking at you like neither he knows why he did this?

"I think everyone is gathering in the lounge for the auction," your mom says, breaking the uncomfortable silence. She glances at you, noticing the tension in your shoulders "come, let's go find our seats" she adds, gently placing a hand on your back to lead you away but as the other, Art included, starts to move you stay still and your mom does too.

"actually mom, I think I'll go home" your voice trembles and your mom doesn't know what to answer. 

"you want me to come with you?" she asks but you shake your head.

"no you stay with dad, but I need to go" and she nods. 

"we'll be home as soon as possible baby" you nod and in a moment you're outside waiting for your driver to come pick you up, you feel so lost. You thought everything was going well with Art, he's been nothing but sweet for the past year and he never, ever mentioned Tashi while talking about his life at Standford.  

As the air hits your face outside, you take a deep, shaky breath... You feel lost, confused, betrayed even. Art, the guy you've been in love with for so long, the guy who kissed you the last summer, is now bringing another girl to this event, acting like they're together.  

The minutes seem to stretch on forever as you wait for your car. You don't make any attempt to wipe the tears from your face, letting them flow freely down your cheeks. You feel like a fool, standing outside the Donaldson's house, dressed up for a night that quickly turned into a nightmare.

The sound of footsteps behind you is like a punch in the gut. You know it's him without even turning around. Art's presence is unmistakable and you feel him standing behind you even before he speaks.

"Can we talk?" he asks, his voice soft and full of hesitation. You can feel his eyes on your back, studying you, but you don't turn around. The tears keep rolling down your cheeks and you don't have the strength to look at him right now.

Still, you shake your head in a no. 

Art's sigh echoes behind you, the disappointment he must be feeling evident in the single breath. He waits for a moment, maybe hoping you'll change your mind, but when you make no attempt to turn around or speak, he finally does. "Please, just a minute" he tries again, his voice pleading.

The desperation in his voice tugs at your heart, but you remain resolute, refusing to turn around. The memory of his hand on Tashi’s back and the sight of the two of them together flashes in your mind and you shake your head in silent answer once again.

"okay, fine" you hear other footsteps and a moment later he is in front of you, you huff in annoyance "you don't understand the signs, do you?" the tone of your voice is aggressive.

Art's eyes widen in surprise at the tone of your voice, clearly caught off guard by your sudden aggression. He opens his mouth to speak, but he seems unable to find the right words, unsure of how to respond to the hostile attitude. He takes a step forward, trying to reach for your hand, but you take a step back, preventing him from touching you.

"I understand you're upset-" he tries to speak, his voice measured but you cut him off. 

"Upset? Is that what you think I am?" you say, your voice a mix of anger and disappointment."upset that you brought another girl to this event, acting like she's the one you should be with? I'm not upset, Art. I'm hurt, hurt cause I thought what happened last summer meant something to you, hurt that in a whole year you made me believe that my feeling were reciprocated, hurt that in all those months you never, ever, mentioned a girl named Tashi and I'm hurt because I wasted a whole year of my life waiting for you!" you shout, and you think that for someone who didn't want to talk, you said a lot.

Art flinches at your words, your voice filled with pain and disappointment. He tries to speak but you don't let him, the words pouring out of your mouth like a dam breaking. "And you know what's funny? I actually thought that something would happen between us tonight. I was looking forward to seeing you again and then you come here with her like she's the one you've been waiting for all this time, fuck I feel so stupid right now" your laugh turns into a sob as you realize how foolish you feel. 

Art takes a step closer, his expression pained as he sees you unravel in front of him "you're not stupid" he says gently, his hand reaching out to cup your face instinctively, like he used to do a year ago.

"don't touch me" you say and swat his hand away.

Art's hand freezes and he retracts it quickly, the pain on his face is clear but he doesn't argue "I'm sorry" he says softly, his eyes watching you, unsure if he'll try to touch you again, "I never wanted this to happen, I mean it" he says, his eyes locked on yours, imploring you to believe him.

He takes another step towards you, now standing closer than before but not actually touching you "after we kissed that summer, I swear I couldn't stop thinking about you. I was looking forward to this night so bad" he says, his voice genuine and full of yearning "but then you told me you chose Harvard instead of Standford and... I don't know, we would be so far away and- me and Tashi, it's nothing serious" if when he started talking he felt stupid, now by looking at your face, he is sure of it.

"so you thought that keeping me on the hook for the whole year would solve everything, that you could have both of us?" 

He shakes his head "no that's not what I wanted" he answers immediately "I want you, only you... I'm sorry" Art's confession is honest and raw, his words a mix of desperation and regret "I never intended to keep you on the hook, I swear, I just didn't know how to handle things... I wanted you, I still want you" he hesitates, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes again "but now I've messed up, I know. I really screwed up" he admits, his expression pleading for forgiveness.

Your car pulls up and you thank the god for the only good thing happening tonight "well, the good news is that I'm still going to Harvard so you can keep having... whatever thing is going on with Tashi" you say dismissively, the tears are still falling and right now you would love to be one of those strong women that can keep emotions under control, that can keep the eye contact with an emotionless expression and resist until they're alone to finally cry... but you're not, and you're sure you look like a mess right now. 

Art watches as your car pulls up, the sight of it bringing a new wave of desperation to his face. He takes a step forward, his hand reaching out for you again, but he stops himself, realizing that his touch is not welcome right now "please, we can talk about this?" he pleads but you brush him off. 

"Like I said, keep having whatever thing you have with Tashi" you say, your voice trembling, the tears keep falling down your face as you grab the handle but Art moves quickly, closing the door of the car before you can open it again. He stands in front of it, blocking your path, his expression determined "you're not going anywhere" he says firmly, his eyes locked on yours "we need to talk" he repeats, his voice steady despite the mess of emotions inside him. 

You can see in his expression how much he doesn't want you to leave but your heart feels like it's shattered into a million pieces and right now you're just tired "there's nothing to talk about" you say, trying to sound strong but the tears streaming down your face betray you "you were right Art, you have every right to live your college life with someone you can be close to, and I do too" you don't mean that, you know you don't. You want to be with him. But now you just want to go home and cry until you fall asleep. 

Art's expression falters at your words, hurt and disappointment etched on his face. He takes a step closer, the proximity making your body react despite the anger and pain "I don't give a damn about my college life" he says frustrated, his emotions raw and unfiltered "I wanted to be with you, I still do. Don't do this, please don't leave like this" his voice breaks slightly as he pleads you.

He reaches for your hand, grasping it in his, the feeling of his touch sending a shiver down your spine "don't run away from this, please" he says, his grip tightening slightly "we can work this out, just don't go" he repeats, his eyes pleading you to stay and talk.

"Art- please, I really want to go home" you sob and Art stills at that, his heart aches at the sound of your sob, the desperation in your voice breaking something in him. You sound so desperate and he doest know what to do anymore, if only he had talked about his insecurities sooner... 

He releases your hand, taking a step back to give you space, the conflict and pain visible on his face "I'm sorry" he says softly, his voice low and full of guilt. "If I could go back in time, I would do things so differently" he admits, rubbing a hand on his face in frustration.

You're not listening to him anymore, that much he can tell, he steps back, allowing you to climb into the passenger seat without another word. The defeat in his expression is clear, but he doesn't try to stop you anymore. The sight of you on the passenger seat, tears streaming down your face, is enough to convince him to not hurt you any further.

"I-I'll call you, ok? o-or you could call me when you're ready" he stammers but you don't say anything, you don't even shake or nod your head. 

Art stands there helplessly, watching as you refuse to respond to his words. The silence between you feels like a physical barrier, the pain and hurt creating a void that neither of you knows how to fill. He takes a deep breath, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "I really am sorry" he says again, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. Still nothing, your eyes are fixed in front of him, "okay.. goodnight" he shuts the door and watches your car drive away, the taillights growing smaller and smaller until they disappear from sight. His hands curl into fists at his side as a mixture of frustration and sadness washes over him. He had messed everything up and now he was standing there alone, his heart shattered along with yours.

Art spends the rest of the summer trying to contact you: he sends text after text, voicemail after voicemail, begging for you to talk to him and try to fix things, but every time you see his name flash on your screen you feel a pang of pain in your chest and you end up deleting his messages without opening them.

At the same time, you're busy preparing for your move to Harvard and throwing yourself into the tasks at hand, anything to distract yourself from the thoughts of Art that keep creeping into your mind.

Despite your best efforts, the thought of Art is always there, lingering in the back of your mind. Every time you pack a box or organize your new room, memories of the times you spent together flash before your eyes. And even when you're with your new college friends, sharing excitement about the upcoming year, a part of you can't help but wonder what Art is doing and if he's just as wrecked as you are.

Every time your fingers hover over Art's name on your phone, a mix of longing and fear washes over you. You want to hear his voice, to pour out your heart and ask if he's feeling the same ache you are, but the fear of finding out that he has moved on, that he's happy without you stops you every time. You feel stuck between the need to reach out and the fear of what you might find.

The first two months at Harvard are a whirlwind of new experiences, but they're also marked by the new, completely absence of Art that stopped calling since the start of the college year. The silence from him is deafening, and the realization that he's moved on stings more with each passing day. Every time you think about him, your heart clenches as if the wound is still fresh. You try to push the thoughts aside, but the memories and the ache for him persist, refusing to let you fully move on.

It's a sunny October day, the sun is shining brightly, a warm contrast to the slightly chilly autumn breeze that brushes against your face as you're walking with your new friends, everyone chattering away excitedly about the upcoming autumn break. Your eyes are fixed on the path in front of you, as you're listening to your friends speaking, laughs loud and your smile genuine

"ok girls don't look now, but a really cute guy is looking at our Y/N right now, on the left, the one leaned against the wall" your friend's words catch your attention and you try hard not to look but curiosity gets the best of you and almost instinctively, you and your friends simultaneously turn to the left, your heads swiveling to catch a glimpse of the guy leaning against the wall.

The moment you turn, your heart stops. Your steps falter and your eyes widen as you recognize the figure standing there. It's Art. His eyes immediately connect with yours and time seems to freeze.

He smiles, clearly insecure, but smiles and you can see a mixture of nervousness and anticipation in his eyes, yours rakes over his body to take him in: he is wearing a dark blue quarter zip, a white shirt underneath, light blue jeans and white sneakers, his hands in his front pocket and his hair are messy from the wind going through them. 

"Do you know him?" your friend's question breaks the intense moment of eye contact between you and Art and you're snapped back to reality. You try to speak, but your mouth seems to have forgotten how to form words, the words are stuck in your throat, along with all the emotions that are now swirling inside you.

Your friends are looking at you, a mix of curiosity and confusion on their faces. One of them repeats the question, nudging your shoulder slightly to bring you back to the present. You swallow hard, still unable to find your voice, your eyes darting back to Art who's still standing there, watching you with a mixture of hope and nervousness in his eyes "uhm yeah, he is an old friend" you mutter.

Your voice comes out soft and a bit shaky as you finally manage to speak. You say that he's an old friend, trying to keep it casual despite the storm of emotions rushing through you. They exchange a knowing glance as they realize that there's more to your relationship with Art. 

"we should leave them alone, we'll save a place for you" one of them say and the others nod, you feel a mixture of nervousness and anticipation as you watch your friends walk away, their forms shrinking in the distance in the orange Harvard park.

 As you take a tentative step towards Art, time seems to slow down, each movement feeling weighted under his intense gaze. Your heart is beating faster, and you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You try to keep your expression neutral, but it’s difficult to hide the mixture of anticipation and anxiety that you feel.

His gaze never leaves your face, watching your every move as he moves away from the wall "what are you doing here?" you ask breathless and it's a miracle Art heard you. 

"I called you" he says. 

 You nod "I know". 

Art takes a few steps towards you "You never answered" there is no accusation in his voice and you nod.

"I know".

The silence hangs heavy between you "college life suits you, you look beautiful". 

"what are you doing here?" you ask and Art looks at his shoes before forcing himself to maintain eye-contact.

"I missed you" he answers immediately and suddenly the wall behind Art is really interesting. 

"you could have sent me a message, it would have been less expensive". 

"would you have answered me this time?" you open your mouth to answer him but nothing that would be the truth comes out.

"probably not" he laughs at that, but there's a hint of melancholy in that laugh, mixed with a tinge of understanding. 

"I guess that's fair" he says, rubbing the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. He takes a moment to collect himself before continuing "I thought coming here was the only way to see you" he confesses, his voice softer now.

Your arms are crossed, a subtle barrier between you and him as you listen to his words. He looks sincere and a pang of guilt twists in your stomach when he mentions that he thought this was the only way to see you. You know you could have answered his messages or calls, but something in you wouldn't allow it.

"You could've answered one of my calls even if to just scream at me or to tell me to fuck off". 

You chuckle weakly "maybe I should have. But I was... I was really hurt and confused" you admit, your voice slightly shaky. He takes a step closer to you, the distance between you shrinking even more.

"I'm sorry" he mutters, he takes your face in his hands and you let him, he missed your skin in his hands, you nod, again.

"I know you are" you murmur.

"I love you" your eyes widens. 

Art's hands feel warm and familiar on your face, and you let him hold you. Your hands grip his sweater, holding on to him as if you're scared he might disappear. Tears start to form in your eyes.

"oh" you mentally facepalm yourself and close your eyes as tight as you can, you can hear Art suppress a laugh. 

"yeah... 'oh'... you should really work on a better way to react to good news".

"Art... what you said that night is true, we are so far away now and I don't want us to suffer the long distance" he shakes his head as you speak. 

"No, no I was wrong, never been more wrong. If there are two people who can do it is us" he assures you. 

"but what about Tashi?" you ask and Art takes a deep breath, his hands still holding your face. The mention of Tashi's name hangs in the air for a moment, and your insecurity is almost palpable to him. He looks into your eyes as he tries to find the right words to say. 

"I don't care about Tashi, I never did" he says firmly, his voice filled with conviction "all I care about is you and only you. You're the one I love, you're the one I want to be with. Tashi is nothing to me" Art's grip on your face tightens slightly as he speaks. His eyes search yours, attempting to convey the sincerity behind his words.

"I'm sorry about everything, I swear I'll do anything you want me to do! I can come here every week-end and we'll spend the vacations together or I can transfer here, I can play tennis here too-" your lips interrupt his ramble but he doesn't waste time to return it. Art's lips move against yours with a mixture of passion and desperation, as if he's finally found what he's been searching for.

As the kiss deepens, Art's hands on your waist pull you impossibly close, closing the already small gap between your bodies. You can feel the hunger and need in his touch, the months you've spent apart making the kiss even more intense.

"god- fuck, I missed you so much" his words against your lips are even sweeter than the kiss itself and you feel like melting in his arms, you missed him too "you have no idea how much I missed you" he mutters before capturing your lips again in a bruising kiss. 

Your cheeks are not cold anymore, your entire body feels hot with affection and you mutter an 'I love you' that makes Art pull back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he listens to the words you whisper. A soft smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he repeats them "I love you too". You can feel the heat radiating from his body, his hands on your waist keeping you closer than ever.

"you don't have to move here for me, we can make this work" you reassure him and finally a genuine and wide smile takes space on your face for him again. 

Art visibly relaxes at your words, the tension leaves his shoulders and he lets out a small sigh of relief "really?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. Your reassurance washes away some of his worries, and he allows himself to believe that it could actually work, that you could make it work despite the distance.

"really". 

"so we're okay now- ow!" Art winces as your hand connects with the side of his head, a mix of surprise and amusement on his face. 

"Now we're okay" you smile in victory. 

"I guess I deserved that" he says rubbing the spot where you slapped him. Despite the gentle reprimand, his eyes are filled with relief and happiness as he nods "yeah, we're okay now" he affirms, a warm smile spreading across his face.

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

Do not copy or repost.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson #challengers #challengers fic

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Hey lil bro, hope you had a joyful birthday 🎂 and as always, thank you for what you do.

I'm not sure which format would be best, but it's for those M6 who knew MC before. How would they react or behave if MC comes back with cognitive loss compared to how they were before? Like it wouldn't be really noticeable if you hadn't known them before, but it's not insignificant for those who did?

Totally understandable if this isn't something you want to tackle. (This prompt is unfortunately personal for me so pls feel free to seek clarification if you do decide to go with it)

The Arcana HCs: When MC suffers from cognitive loss

~ for headcanon purposes, MC is dealing with short-term cognitive loss post upright ending due to a head injury/new meds/unforeseen but remedial issue. this manifests as poor short term memory, slowed thinking processes, difficulty putting together words, etc ~

Julian

He hates that you just can't seem to catch a break but he's so, so, so very happy that this is a situation that lets him use his strengths for you. Few things make him happier than knowing he's helping

You do quickly realize that much of the reason he's able to cope with your sudden change in functioning is years of "doctor mode"

That said, he'll turn any situation into a bonding moment

Can't remember the word you're looking for? He'll turn into a walking thesaurus and rattle off any and all related vocabulary he can remember (which is quite a bit, with all that reading)

Difficulty processing information? No worries, he can share his own thought process out loud so you have something to follow. You'll get there in your own time

There are moments when he worries that the care he gives you won't be enough to fix it, but he also knows that nothing about your situation changes who you are, or how much he loves you

Overjoyed when he sees you start to recover and makes a point of commemorating every milestone. He knew you could do it!

Asra

It's a mess and they know it's a mess and the main thing they feel is grief that you have to experience loss like this all over again

Being someone who doesn't process grief or sadness easily, he's going to work towards making life beautiful for you again instead. He is nothing if not resilient, adaptable, and hopeful

Even if you stay this way for the rest of your life, they'll still love you unconditionally and savor every day they get to spend with you

And it's that mindset riddled with hope and triggers that puts him on eggshells. He's not pressuring you, he's not afraid of you, but he's terrified of making things worse or making you feel lesser

So very gentle and accommodating about any new needs. You can't piece your sentence together? Take a deep breath, join your hands with theirs, and they'll work it out through your bond

Struggling to remember what you were going to do today? He'll remind you if he knows, and if he doesn't, it'll work itself out

Watching you work your way back to your usual state tells them all over again that holding out hope for your healing is always good

Nadia

Deeply upset about what you're losing and even more angry with herself for why she's bothered about it - your thoughts and words were what drew her in and made her fall for you

But now, both of those things have been compromised, and under the concern that you're missing something core to who you are is the fear that her love won't be strong enough to weather it

And she hates that about herself

Which is why she's not going to burden you with this set of insecurities. Rather, she's determined to see you get better, and she's going to put all her faith in who she knows you to be

In the process she ends up realizing that slower thoughts and cumbered speaking don't change anything about who you are. You're still you, and she loves you unfalteringly

She also gets terrifyingly good at saying what you're thinking before you even realize you're thinking it in conversations

So, so proud of you every step of your recovery. She's still permanently losing her habit of springing trick questions on you

Muriel

Is it still you? Yes. Are you alive? Yes. So what if you need to take extra time to collect your thoughts? His personal record for deciding what to have for dinner spans days

(A/N: this is called procrastination, and going without eating for that long was not good for him and something he needed to stop)

So what if you don't have words for what you're thinking? He doesn't have words either most of the time. It's all good

He's still bothered by it, though, because you're bothered by it. He can tell how frustrated you are with yourself and he hates seeing the way it affects your self-esteem. He'll help however he can

Don't worry about finishing your thought, life in the woods moves at glacial paces. Take as much time as you need to keep going

It's okay if you can't say the words you want to. Gestures work just as well - in fact, it's never too late to learn a little sign

If anything, it's refreshing to see you slow down to his pace

So happy for you as you recover. It makes no difference to his love for you, but you're happier for it and that's what matters

Portia

Oh, she's upset to the point of coming across as angry

Not at you - of course not at you, she knows this is in no way your fault, but between her empathic heart absorbing all of your frustration and grief and her own concern for you, it's ... a lot

The extent to which she's projecting her own feelings of being held back by her situation onto you doesn't help either

Which is why she's not giving up on you. If you reach a point where you'd rather find a way to make life good as is, then she'll make her peace with it. Until then, it's full steam ahead to your recovery

It's still a struggle with her own impatience, though. She finishes half the sentences you start with uncanny accuracy, and then beats herself up for not keeping your space to work through it

She misses being able to toss ideas back and forth and hearing your feedback right away, but she's learning to value it more

Bakes celebratory cakes and sweets every single time you hit a milestone or seem to have clearly improved, and never stops reminding you what a loved and delightful person you are

Lucio

His only personally negative feeling about this is that your communications lag-time gets frustrating when he's got the attention span of a squirrel in autumn. He's trying, okay?

Other than that, you're not that much different to him. You still love him. You're still here, despite the "oopsies". You're still very kissable

What truly bothers him is the dip in your own self-worth. He'd have to be blind to miss the way you deflate or panic a little every time you struggle or fail to do what used to be so easy for you

To him, you're the best. You're his best. That's how you deserve to feel about yourself. And if you aren't, he wants to help you out of it

His encouragement doesn't come from telling you you'll recover or from putting together a meticulous care plan. It comes in the form of jokes and hugs and "don't worry about it, you're still awesome"s

Which, granted, isn't necessarily the best emotional support for when you want to vent or process, but he's not going anywhere

You saved him, so you're stuck with him for life. He's dedicated to you whatever the outcome, and immeasurably proud of you always

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

[goquokka00]

The Little Things (Jisung Ver.)

The small things he does every day that make you feel oh, so special.

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

| Compares Hands |

Jisung is one of those people where I just get the vibe where he'd be one to regularly compare his hands to yours. Why? I don't know. But I just get the feeling that whenever the two of you are cuddling, Jisung's got your hand in his, and he's just...comparing them.

Your hands are so different compared to his. They're smaller, so much more feminine. They're so soft, probably because you use that one lotion you hidden from him every day on them. They're nothing like his, which we've seen pictures of them and dear GOD, his hands are absolutely fine. They're veiny and long, they're probably rough, but are just so gentle.

A lot of times, Jisung will take your hand and place it against his to directly compare them. And he'll comment on it, too. "Your hands are so cute, baby," or, "Our hands look so perfect together." They're never bad comments, he just likes to tell you how he feels.

| Shares Earbuds |

This is probably a given. Jisung loves music, and we all know this. And that means he's open to hearing a whole variety of music, mainly to help inspire him for songs for Stray Kids. Where else is better to get that than from the person he loves the most?

If you guys are ever out in public or walking around, Jisung will almost ask for an earbud so he can listen to whatever you're listening to. It doesn't matter what you're music tastes are, either. Kpop, rock and roll, pop, country, hip hop, rap, indie, latin, jazz, he'll listen to it all. And if he recognizes the song, he'll happily sing the lyrics.

There are other times where Jisung will want to share his earbud with you, too. I feel like he wouldn't play any spoilers for upcoming albums (Bangchan would murder him alive), but he'd play music that he listens to regularly, wanting to expand your own horizons. As a bonus, I also think that the two of you would make one big playlist of both of your favorites, and you'd listen to that together a lot.

| Holds Your Arm |

Jisung really likes to be close to you at all times. And that means that whenever you two are shopping, or going to different places outside of JYPE or your work area, or even the apartment, there are times where his arms are wrapped around whichever arm of yours is closest to him. Sometimes your arms are linked, but other times, he's clinging to your arm.

I do have a strong feeling that he'd mostly do this if his anxiety was acting up. If he was starting to spiral because of crowds, or his thoughts were overwhelming him because of work, he'd cling to you to try and ground himself. And of course, you'd be there to comfort him.

He'd probably apologize for it. He'd feel bad because you'd have to put up with him like that. But you really don't care. You'd gently rub his hand, keeping it there while guiding him to a less populated area so you two could chill and just breathe. And while he'd feel guilty, Jisung would be so grateful for it.

| Back Hugs in the Morning |

I've said this once in my first ever post, and I'll happily say it again. I am a firm believer of Jisung not being a morning person at all. The late nights down at the studio, writing songs for hours until the early hours of the morning just drain him, and getting up is quite literally a chore in Jisung's mind.

And so, while you're probably making breakfast, I think that Jisung would be the kind of person to come up behind you and pull you back against his chest, the man still half-asleep as he rests his head on your shoulder. He refuses to talk, as it takes too much energy. And so all you get are grunts, hums, and any other noises he decides to make.

Jisung will just cling to you for as long as he needs. If you need to walk to a different area of the kitchen while you're cooking, Jisung will just follow you, not giving you any space whatsoever. Even when he's finally awake and alert, he's not letting you go. At least, not until he gets his good morning kiss.

| Spoils You |

Guys, I kid you not, Jisung will buy you anything and everything you want. You want food from that one restaurant you went to a few weeks ago? Done. You spotted a sweater that you really like? It's yours. You need something for a hobby of yours? Say no more. As long as you're happy, Jisung's happy.

It doesn't even matter how expensive it is. Nothing is too expensive if it's for you. You can complain all you want, too. You don't want him to spend all of his money on you? Too bad. You're happy with just being his? Yeah, but Jisung wants to make you even happier.

I also have this irk that Jisung would buy you souvenirs from wherever he travels to. If it reminds him of you, he'll buy it for you and then give it to you once he gets back to South Korea. And I'm not kidding you, this man would be like so giddy as he watches you react to each and every single gift. He just loves to spoil you beyond belief, and he will NEVER stop.

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

#skz #stray kids #stray kids imagine #han jisung #han jisung x reader #skz imagines #stray kids han #han x reader #han #han stray kids #skz han #han skz #jisung imagines #jisung x reader #skz jisung #jisung skz #jisung stray kids #stray kids jisung #stray kids han jisung #han jisung stray kids #skz stay

[veturiusofserra]

when you know, you know | s. r.

𑁤 synopsis: in an interview she opens up about how easy it is to be loved by Spencer, sharing the story of how they met and how his love inspired her music.

𑁤 pairing: spencer reid x singer!reader

𑁤 words: 1.090

𑁤 disclaimer: This was 100% inspired by something my bf said a while ago, and I love the song. I hope you will enjoy it too <3

“As we reach the close of our conversation, one thing’s bugging me. In your song “Margaret,” there’s this line ‘when you know, you know.’ Like, how do you just know someone’s the one? I’ve been through my share of relationships, yet I haven’t experienced that kind of thing you sing about. In your song, it’s all so clear-cut, like you can predict the future. It reminds me of a kid believing in the tooth fairy – sweet idea, maybe not quite real. But that’s probably what makes the song so good. It talks about this perfect love where everything just clicks, and all your worries disappear. Maybe that’s what I’m still looking for, or maybe it’s just for some lucky people. Either way, your song paints such a strong picture of love that it makes me wonder if I’ll ever have a ‘Margaret’ of my own.”

“It’s funny, right? The answer everyone gives is so simple: “you’ll just know.” Like love hits you like a lightning bolt, destiny calls, happily ever after guaranteed. But maybe that’s the problem. We get this picture-perfect idea of love from movies and books, and then we miss the real thing when it’s right under our noses. We set these high expectations, these checklists of what “the one” should be like. And if someone doesn’t tick every box, we write them off. It’s like searching for a flawless diamond, forgetting that even the most beautiful gems have tiny imperfections. Because guess what? We all mess up. You make mistakes, I make mistakes, everyone does. Maybe that’s what makes a real connection so special – accepting someone, flaws and all. Speaking of which, there’s this story I wanted to share with you.”

“We're all ears!”, the interviewer and the crew smile with waiting faces.  

“For the longest time, I believed I was destined to give love, but never receive it.  Maybe because... well, let’s be honest, I can be a bit self-absorbed, lost in my own head and neglecting others. But even with the no love life mantra, there was always this yearning for a family, a deep desire for children I could call my own. The ‘what ifs’ terrified me, though. Would I be a good parent? Would they be happy? Could I provide for them? Eventually, I resigned myself to a life of music, making people happy through my art, having a few friends, maybe a tragically young death – you know, the artist’s curse. 

Then, I found him. We both know Penny, but run in different circles. He’s in law, I’m an artist – about as different as you get, except for maybe a shared love of fancy vocabulary. We met at Penny’s birthday party, and while he claims it was love at first sight for him, I just thought he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen. But that was it. He was too shy to introduce himself, and I was sworn off men at the time. Funny how fate works, right?  We never crossed paths before, but after that night, it seemed like everywhere I turned, there he was. That’s when I decided to take a chance, and boy, I was so scared!

All those stories about soulmates and butterflies? They weren’t for me. Anxiety had been my constant companion for as long as I could remember. Butterflies just meant another battle brewing in my head. What I craved was peace, a steady hand to anchor me until I was ready to set sail. So, I built a friendship with him. We shared secrets, dreams, and vulnerabilities. He turned out to be a brilliant mind, a walking encyclopedia with an IQ of 187. Yet, he never made me feel inferior. He found humor in my quirks, and we seemed to complement each other perfectly. The more time we spent together, the more his words resonated: “We were designed for one another.”

And then, it hit me. Love. Deep, unexpected, and all-encompassing. It felt effortless, a perfect fit. But fear gnawed at me. It was all so new, so unfamiliar. Just as I was drowning in uncertainty, Penny, our mutual friend, reached out. She had something to show me – “Margaret.”

“She wrote it?” she asked, intrigued.

“Well, she started it,” I clarify. “Inspired by him, she penned the first lines that night after the birthday party. She couldn't shake the image of his longing gaze, a sight she’d never witnessed before. It felt sacred, a raw glimpse into his heart. The initial draft, rough around the edges, went something like this: ‘just writing for a friend. My shirt's inside out, and penmanship is messy. He met her on the rooftop, and she wore white. He said, ‘I think I’m in trouble.’ He saw flashes of the future.” A gentle smile graces your lips. 

“Seriously, that’s adorable.”

I nod, a blush creeping up my cheeks. “Right? Her words sparked inspiration within me. I wrote the rest, my mind consumed by-”

“By him.” she prompted, leaning in.

“He made love feel simple. Loving me was effortless for him, a stark contrast to the struggle I’d always imagined. It was like breathing, a natural and easy rhythm. He helped me discover the light that had been hiding within me all along.”

“There’s a saying,” the interviewer began, “to be loved is to be changed.”

I smiled. “I prefer a different one: to be loved is to be known. Because maybe, just maybe, he saw the affection within me all along, the part I couldn’t quite see myself.”

“You are indeed full of affection,” she said warmly. “Thank you for sharing this story with us.”

“Thank you for listening. I know it's a cliché, but there truly is someone out there for everyone. You never know what tomorrow holds, but deep down, a tiny spark ignites within us, guiding us towards that love. Trust it.”

“That wraps it up for our interview with the lovely Y/n! But before we say goodbye, there's one more message for her. Can we play it, Jonah?” A nod later, the studio fills with the sound of a familiar voice.

“Hey there, love. Just wanted to say congratulations on the album! You poured your heart and soul into it, and I’m incredibly proud. But hey, can you come home soon? Two days feels like an eternity without you. Miss my other half. Love you tons, sweetheart. And everyone listening, stream Ocean Boulevard! Dex says hi to mom, too.” A meow erupts in the background, eliciting a laugh from you and the studio crew.

thoughts? or prayers idk

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer read imagines #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader insert #spencer reid x singer!reader #spencer reid singer #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #veturiusofserra writings

[melodymunson]

Steve Harrington x fem reader x oc - talk dirty to me

5.1 K words

You and your college roommate and friend need to make ends meet and decide to start working for a phone sex hotline. Steve is your client and you eventually make adult films together. (Featuring mentions of Eddie Munson).

Warnings: cream pies, unprotected sex p in v (unprotected), anal sex (protected), use of a gag ball, lesbian sex, pussy eating, blowjob, deep throating, hand job, 69, reverse cowgirl, cum swapping/cum sharing/cum eating.

thank you for the inspiration I had while writing this and for your endless support @keeryatmosphere & @corneliuswatkins love you ladies!

ao3 link

It all started when you needed money to pay for your college tuition. The going was tough these days for paying bills and making a living while also having fun. There was no time for any casual dating, let alone any serious relationship. One day your problems seemed to be over because you saw an ad in the newspaper under the adult classified section for a sex phone operator. Your close friend and college roommate, Scarlet, also needed a job. Scarlet had long, wavy black hair, a curvy figure, and brown eyes.

You couldn't imagine anyone else as a roommate because she was the nicest girl you had met at the university and she was a good person. Once she saw the ad, you both agreed to apply for it. When you discovered it was legit and not a scam; you started working the hotline. Many types of men and even women sometimes, called in to talk and get relationship advice and intimacy. Other people who called wanted something more sexy, including talk about hardcore fantasies.

You knew how to cater to their every whim and help them release their inhibitions by hearing their confessions judgment-free, of course. You had some interesting clients who were regulars. One day, the caller was someone you recognized, though. He said his name was Harrison, but you could tell by his voice it was none other than King Steve Harrington from Hawkins High.

Your younger brother Dustin Henderson was good friends with him growing up in his teenage years. Even though you were adopted, you fit right into the family. Of course, he didn't recognize you though because your voice as a phone operator was different than your regular voice.

Eventually, you came clean and admitted to Steve it was you. At first, he was a little shocked, but not for long. Having him finally know it was you made you relieved in a sense, like a weight lifted off your shoulders. The days you talked to him on the sex chat line, you helped him to get off, and it always worked.

Your sexy, sultry voice, the dirty talk, and his wandering hands as you talked to him made him want to see you and experience his fantasies with you in the real world. Stroking himself as you were talking to him dirty and seductively, you heard him spitting on his hand no doubt using it for lube since he would admit to stroking himself. You never failed to make him come undone. One of his biggest fantasies was to have a threesome with 2 women. He had already had some with men and women together only.

Being King Steve Harrington, you were surprised he had never had a threesome yet with two ladies. Sometimes, Scarlet would talk to him as well and you would alternate by using the phone telling him what you'd do to him and each other. Those phone calls made Steve cum harder than ever. You admitted one day to him why you and your roommate needed this job.

A deal formed after this and it was agreed you would have some intimate time together soon, just the three of you. So you invited Steve over and he would pay for your and Scarlet's tuition for a semester if things went according to plan and more time would be agreed upon to be spent together. The vibes had to be right and nothing forced. It would all come naturally. If that went well, then you would do some adult films together. Once you discovered Steve was an adult star with another name, of course, you were pleasantly surprised.

Soon you went out to dinner together. Nothing that fancy, but it was pretty casual. The dinner was fairly nice at a local bistro. Steve paid and enjoyed your company and Scarlet's. You drank some wine, but no one got drunk. Everyone wanted to be clear-headed for the rest of the evening ahead once you were alone and things got more intimate.

During dinner, you discussed hard limits, kinks, and expectations for future get-togethers. The agreed-upon hard limits would be blood play, knife play, non-con, dub-con, age play, and nothing with bodily fluids except spitting. Not too surprisingly, you also had some similar kinks you shared with Steve and Scarlet. These included edging, marking, overstimulation, praise, and soft degradation.

You didn't quite see yourself making a porno and being paid by your brother's older friend for doing it, but it felt right with Steve. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Even with a part-time job doing a phone sex hotline and picking up some shifts at a local diner, you couldn't make ends meet. Since no one in your family wanted to help you pay for college, this is what you had to do.

The first time you were together, it was slow and sensual. Everyone had equal attention, and it was more of a soft-core porno. It started with you and Scarlet touching each other affectionately as Steve watched. Kissing, using toys on each other, eating each other out, Steve stroking himself, a hand job, and a blowjob.

He told you he loved every single second of it. The way you used your tongues and mouths, how you dirty talked, how hard he came. Everyone had fun, and the night was wonderful. He told you he would never forget that first time together, and being in your dorm room made it even hotter because of the thrill of being caught. Filming the porn in the dorm room was something you didn't expect to happen, but it did, and it was flawless.

Once it was released, you would get paid in full for your acting work. Steve would be called Principal Knight and your name would be Cherry, Scarlets for the porno would be Candy. For the next porno, you would film at his private mansion together. That was the night you would let him fuck you and use you in any way he pleased. The night started with a casual dinner out. Once that was over with, you went back to his mansion and smoked some weed while drinking some rather expensive champagne.

As the night was winding down and the joints took effect, you passed a bottle of vodka between the three of you. No one got drunk, but it was great combined with the buzz from the weed. For the porno, you would dress as a schoolgirl and would film in Steve's family's study library. He was going to play the part of the college principal.

The scenario was you and Scarlet in detention and he would punish you both. Dressed in the school girl uniforms and glasses complete to match, you went to the study and the cameras started rolling once everyone was loosened up and ready. Sitting down at desks your hair in pigtails, you tapped your pencil against the desk as Scarlet pretended to be reading a book.

Steve was behind the office desk and sitting in the leather chair watching you and her, his hands crossed and glasses hanging off his nose. When he looked away, you passed a note to Scarlet.

"Ladies, let me see that note!" He demanded sternly, getting up and walking over to the desks.

You gave him a good view of your cleavage as he stood over you, looking down with scrutiny in his eyes. Picking up the note, he read it out loud.

"Do you think that Principal Knight would raise our grades for us in the school system if we let him fuck us?"

Both you and Scarlet were smirking, getting into this.

"I see that you college girls don't know how to behave. What should I expect from straight C students?" He remarked with a scoff, playing the part of the principal perfectly as he put his hands on his hips.

"Please, sir, I have a scholarship. I can't lose it. Please, we'll do anything," you protested, giving him a pleading look and sad eyes.

"You aren't married, right? Or is there a girlfriend in your life, Principal?" Scarlet inquired with raised brows as she twirled a loose strand of hair with her finger.

Clearing his throat, Steve cupped her chin, tilting it upward.

"No, I don't. It's not like it's any of your business, anyway. I'll be back in a few minutes. Behave. Both of you or another detention."

He wagged his finger at the both of you as he sternly said this, then moved out of view from the camera. You and Scarlet were now seemingly alone.

"Let's make him want us. Seduce him, you know?" She suggested as she looked at you with the biggest smirk.

"Deal."

You shook hands on it, then whispered into her ear.

"Finger me while we kiss. He would love to see that when he comes back."

Wasting no time, she lifted your skirt, pushed your panties to the side, and inserted a finger. You were so wet already, and this made you even more turned on. Kissing for the camera, you spread your legs even wider, allowing her even better access, and kissed her deeply. Soon Steve came back into view of the camera, a fake look of shock on his face.

"Ladies, stop doing that!"

Breaking away from the kiss, you dared to protest.

"Why, sir? Don't you want to fuck us?"

His cock twitched in his pants, no longer being able to contain himself or his excitement as his erection continued to grow. You made the first move by kissing Steve and taking off his shirt. Scarlet watched with a glazed-out look in her eye and came up next to you, removing her shirt. You did the same and got into Steve's lap to kiss him more before switching places with Scarlet.

She broke the kiss to kiss you, making Steve groan softly.

"How about we make you feel like a king tonight, Principal Knight?" You meant every word of wanting to give him the best night of his life.

"Really? I would love nothing more," Steve responded as he got up, taking Scarlet over to his desk.

Removing his shoes first, his pants followed, then his boxers. Only his shirt and tie were still on.

"How do you want us, Mr. Principal sir?" Scarlet asked, aiming to please and more than willing to do whatever he wanted.

"I've been dying to taste both of you. Now remove the rest of your clothes and lean against my desk for me, but keep on the skirts and tights for now," he commanded sternly.

Scarlet helped you to remove your bra and panties with her teeth and you did the same for her. Getting the perfect view of you and Scarlet's bodies, you looked at Steve and his eyes were dark with lust. You leaned against the desk as he knelt and fingered both of you. Noticing the butt plugs in your asses, he tapped the jewels with his fingers.

"You are both so tight. Such needy girls for me too, aren't you? And these butt plugs. Magnificent!" He mused before adding more fingers getting you to loosen up for him.

"Taste me, Steve. I've been craving your tongue," you whined needily.

He chuckled softly to himself before giving in to your request.

"Oh yes Steve, eat my pussy," you encouraged him as he buried his tongue in between your folds. The pleasure was short-lived before he did the same to Scarlet.

"His tongue is amazing. Just like that, sir," she whined as you met her lips in a kiss.

You kept kissing each other, moaning against each other's mouths as she cupped your breasts and played with your breasts. You did the same for her as Steve kept switching up between the two of you. His cock was so aching and needy to fuck you both and he was harder than ever as he pleased your pussies and watched you kiss passionately with tongues.

"Keep moaning for me just like that, ladies. Keep kissing and don't stop until I tell you to." He continued to finger fuck you both and alternate between sucking your pussy and licking your ass before doing the same to Scar and again to you.

Already you felt pretty close to your release and judging by the sounds Scarlet was making, she didn't seem to be very far behind.

"Ok stop. Now get up and onto your backs," he ordered with no hesitation in his tone.

Each of you rolled onto your backs and he looked at both of your slick pussies coated with his spit and your juices. Quickly, he stripped off his shirt and tie and kicked them to the side. To say he was well-endowed would be an understatement. He was thick and veiny with a mushroom-headed tip.

Licking your lips in anticipation, you eagerly awaited for his cock to slip inside of you. Steve spit on his fingers, then moved them to your wet entrance, quickly finding your clit. He did the same with his other hand and fingered Scarlet. Lewd moans elicited from both of your mouths.

"Now kiss for me. Be good girls," he ordered firmly.

You wasted no time kissing Scarlet using your tongue, knowing Steve would love it. You were enjoying yourself immensely though, and it was for your pleasure and Scarlet's as much as it was for him to watch and enjoy.

"Hottest thing I've ever seen," he remarked before spitting on your pussy then hers as he continued to finger fuck you both at a rapid pace before suddenly stopping.

A wide grin formed on his face before he lined himself up at your entrance, teasing you with just the tip of his cock. You were still kissing Scarlet and moaning against each other's lips. Already you felt your orgasm fastly approaching.

"That's right moan for me," he cooed encouragingly as he thrust his hips, pistoning them and brushing back loose strands of hair from his face.

Steve hissed as he sunk deep and even deeper inside of your pussy. You gasped as he filled you up inch by delicious inch.

"Such a good cock, professor. So big for such a slut like me. Will I get an A?" You asked cockily as he pulled your pigtails.

"If you do as I say and let me fuck this little slutty tight pussy. And you missy," he addressed Scarlet, "Sit on your friend's face. I want to see how well she can eat pussy," Steve sternly demanded.

Scarlet positioned herself on your face, straddling you with her legs on either side of your head as you sat in the desk chair and she leaned against the desk.

"That's right, suffocate her with that naughty schoolgirl pussy," Steve ordered her with lust gleaming in his eyes.

Steve spanked your ass and pounded inside of you, not giving you any more time to adjust and with no warning. Steve pulled Scarlet in closer to him and kissed her as you rocked your hips and she played with her nipples as you ate her out with vigor and passion, moaning into her clit. Rutting inside you, he pumped his cock into your tight hole, gasping as he watched his cock jackhammer into you, going faster and faster. He flicked your clit with his finger, wanting to stimulate you, thus making you cry out for him.

"How does she taste tell me now!" He demanded before he slapped your pussy as it hugged his cock tightly. Steve loved a tight pussy, and yours was made perfect for his dick.

"So good. She tastes sweet," you whined as you felt his fingernails digging into your hips, no doubt leaving marks on your skin.

"She's so good at eating pussy. Amazing!" Scar cried out loudly as she ground her wetness on your face, running down your chin.

Steve grunted and growled fecally as he rolled his hips and his balls slapped against your pussy. Sweat was trickling down his brows as he fucked your wet and juicy pussy, having the time of his life. He loved putting women in their places and was doing just that with you and Scarlet. Scarlet was getting close to her release, and you were with yours as Steve pounded hard and fast.

"Dirty fucking whores! My little sluts. Be good girls for your principal if you want to stay at this university," he forewarned you both having fun with this and playing his role in this scenario.

"Mmm gonna cum, sir," you yelped in pleasure as his cock hit your g-spot.

"Me too, Principal Knight," Scarlet warned as she rode your face and you fingered her clit, sucking on her sensitive bud.

Pulling out, he stroked his cock a bit and replaced it with his fingers, making you cry out louder as you came all over them, even squirting a little. Scarlet gasped in shock and found her release, throwing her head back and fondling her breasts. Steve was content watching this as he pulled his fingers out and put them to Scarlet's lips.

"Suck my fingers, slut!" He bellowed.

She did with satisfaction before getting off your face and catching her breath.

"Suck my cock now, whores!" He ordered sternly as he pumped it with his fist still hard as a rock.

Getting on your knees, you both sucked him clean, tasting your juices on his cock, licking his shaft, and kissing as your mouths met at the tip. Sucking him into your mouth as you laved and licked at his cockhead and his shaft, loving how he tasted and how big he felt in your mouth. Alternating your mouth with Scarlets, Steve pumped into her mouth, hissing as she took him down all the way. He pulled out and then shoved his cock into your mouth, making you gag and choke as spit ran down his shaft.

Looking down at you, he moaned, then pulled out and went back to fucking Scar's mouth before yours again, making the most lewd noises. Suddenly he pulled out of your mouth as spit coated his shaft, the pearly tip leaking pre-cum. The three of you were having the times of your lives.

"Now I'm going to fuck Scarlet as she eats Y/N out."

Soon you moved over to the couch in the library and got comfortable. Steve slapped your ass then hers, getting a good grip of flesh, loving the feeling of being in charge of the situation. Scarlet grabbed a rabbit vibrator from her purse and handed it to Steve, letting him get a good look at it.

"Naughty girl. Now use this on your friend. Make her cum hard for me. See if you can make her squirt," Steve requested before handing the toy back to her.

Taking the toy and turning it on, she positioned it at your entrance, starting at a low setting to get you used to it as Steve entered her until he was balls deep inside. Moaning as he filled her up, she fingered you and licked your folds as Steve began pumping inside, holding her hair back as he did so. Steve's chest hair looked so gorgeous as he fucked Scarlet and she ate you out, sucking on your labia, making you cry out from the feeling of the toy's vibrations and her mouth.

"Fuck yeah, do that use that toy and eat that pussy," Steve sternly told her as he made eye contact with you and groaned loudly.

His pace was steady inside of her as he enjoyed the little show you and Scarlet were putting on for him. The sight of you two ladies together made him hard as a rock. Occasionally, you and Steve would look over at the camera, getting some good shots as you fucked. Surely people would love this porno and you were putting all you had into it. The best part of making the porno was giving each other pure pleasure.

"She's so good at this! Need to get in trouble more often so we can be punished more," you whined, not caring how needy you sounded.

"She's so tasty, Principal Knight. Thank you for letting me eat her pussy," she mewled between her groans of delight.

"Who said you could talk? Eat that pussy until she cums. NOW!" Steve sternly remarked before slapping her ass and playing with her butt plug before removing it. He fingered her ass, having her crying out even louder and eating your pussy with reckless abandon.

Even though you were acting, you were having the best time and hoped this meant something to Steve, and it certainly meant something to you too. The sounds you were making were orgasmic as Scarlet ate you out like it was her last meal and Steve fucked her hard, his balls slapping against her ass. She was not shy in the slightest as she used the toy at a higher setting and pleasured you with all her pussy eating skills. Threesomes were Steve's favorite, but this was the hottest and best threesome he ever had on and off-camera.

"Fuck yes like that! Yeah, gonna cum for you!" You practically screamed as the toy's high setting and her tongue hit your g-spot.

"Cum for us. I'm so close to needing to cum for you beauties," Steve forewarned Scarlet as he continued to finger her ass with one hand, his other rubbing harsh circles on her sensitive clit.

The toy had you cum all over her tongue and in her mouth as you rode out your high before she turned off the toy and put it to the side. Your swollen clit and dripping cunt full of your juices were licked clean by Scarlet as Steve pulled out of her, cumming all over her back. His fingers hit the right spot because she was cumming moments later in ecstasy and euphoric bliss as she screamed in satisfaction.

"Now lick it clean!" He instructed.

Wasting no time, you licked her ass clean and kissed her before swallowing. Opening your mouth for Steve, you showed him it was all gone now, and he smiled in satisfaction. Steve had more in store for the both of you and, as his cock was already getting hard again, he decided on what he would do with you and Scarlet next. Pulling out your butt plug, he placed it to the side along with Scarlet's and looked down at the two of you with the biggest grin on his face.

"What now, sir?" You asked curiously as you and Scarlet knelt in front of him with Scarlet's hands around your breasts.

"Yeah, well, now you have to finish your detention by letting me use your other hole. Your mouths were divine, your pussies even better, but I need to finish with your asses," he informed you both.

"Yes, sir. We would love to," Scarlet told him sincerely.

"Yes please," you told him with a smile.

He went to get the condoms and lube from his desk drawer and brought them back over to the couch. Steve unwrapped the condom from its foil packet and opened the bottle of unscented lube. He looked between the two of you as if deciding on who he should fuck first. There was one other item he had, and it was a gag ball, which made you open your eyes wide in shock.

"Since you want to be mouthy, you will use this for me as I fuck your friend, Candy. I am going to use you both to my liking," he admonishes.

Steve hands you the toy and smiles as you take it happily. He then puts the gag ball around Scarlet's mouth, adjusting it to make sure it isn't too tight. Once that was taken care of, Steve puts the condom on and lubes up his fingers, inserting them into your ass to get you warmed up from him, earning whines and mewls from you. Turning the toy on, you use it on Scar's sensitive clit.

"Oh, fuck your fingers feel amazing Principal Knight," you cried out as he smirks continuing to fuck your ass with his fingers then uses his tongue.

Once he felt you had enough and felt as if he had earned enough cries from you, he positioned himself at your back entrance and entered you inch by delicious inch. You gasped as he entered your ass crying out in pleasure mixed with a little of a pain at first and then with euphoric bliss from the delicious feeling of his big and thick cock. Scarlet watched with rapt interest as she moaned around the gag ball in her mouth from the pressure of the vibrations on her sensitive nub.

As he moved inside of you, Steve hissed and grunted from the intense elation of the sensations. He was getting from your ass, clenching his cock so tightly. You screamed delightfully for him against Scar's inner thighs, working the toy on an even higher setting on her clit, causing her legs to shake.

"Tell me how much you love my cock in your ass, slut!" Steve urged you as he picked up his pace, earning louder yelps and mewls to escape from your lips.

"So fucking good, sir! So good more, please!" You begged as you rocked your hips and ass as he pounded it with pure satisfaction.

"That mouth on you!" He admonished before slapping your ass cheeks hard and gripping the flesh tightly, squeezing it, causing you to scream for him even more.

Scar was feeling intense euphoria from the way you worked the toy on her clit as her creamy juices coated it and her cries muffled because of the gag ball she was drooling on. Steve only fucked your ass harder, his balls slapping and heavy with his cum. Rubbing harsh circles on your clit, he growled fecally as you licked your friend's asshole, still using the toy to overstimulate her pussy. After fucking you for a few more minutes and rubbing your pussy, he made you cum and squirt before pulling out, feeling his fingers soaked.

"Oh, fuck sir, you made me squirt!" You shrieked as he slapped your ass again, groping it and soothing the red marks he left with imprints on your ass.

Steve removed the gag ball from Scarlet's mouth and took the toy, turning it off and tossing both aside. Getting another condom, he put it on and got more lube. You switched places with Scarlet and removed your skirts, now fully naked, on the couch for him to use as he pleased. Rubbing lube on her asshole as she was lying on her back, he makes sure she is ready before he enters her and lets her get adjusted.

"Thank you, sir, for using my ass," you gratefully told him as he fondled and gripped your ass with his hands.

"You're welcome whore. Now you Y/N need to see you please your friend here as I fuck her ass," he requested with a glint in his eyes.

"Yes, sir, anything for you."

Steve began his thrusts inside of her tight ass, moaning as he fucked her and you began to fondle and kiss her breasts before sucking one of her nipples into your mouth and then the other. He watched with wide eyes, loving the sensations of how it felt to be inside her tight ass as you pleased her and made her moan from the sheer contentment she was feeling from all the stimulation and attention. Scarlet moaned into your mouth as you kissed and groped her breasts and Steve fucked her ass hard and fast.

"How does it feel with him in your ass, huh? How does his big dick feel?" You asked her with curiosity as she whined and tangled her tongue with yours as she rocked on his cock as his balls slapped and hung heavily, bouncing against her ass.

"So good. Feels wonderful. I love how tight it feels and I want it so badly!" She wailed against your lips, craving the way his cock twitched inside her ass as they chased their climaxes together.

"So close, you fuckin' slut gonna cum soon. Want to cum in your mouths. Finish me!" Steve bellowed as he pulled out and tossed the condom in the trash can.

Wasting no more time, you and Scarlet knelt in front of him as he jerked himself off and began to cum into your open and eager mouths, watching you take him all down your throats. You kissed after and he watched in rapt fascination, feeling spent from the wonderful fucking he just did. Spitting into her mouth, she swallowed eagerly as you also swallowed his seed until it was all gone. Steve pulled you in for a kiss and then Scar.

"Detention is over. Until next time, ladies."

That porno was one of many that you made with Steve and eventually, you made some with Eddie, too. The first porno you did with Eddie was him as the rockstar (of course) with you as the groupie. An adult film you did with both Steve and Eddie was a fantasy of Knights in shining armor, Eddie and Steve with you being the Princess who was the damsel in distress. A Halloween porno with you dressed as a witch and Eddie/Steve were the warlock wizards. Eddie was a pornstar as his part-time career when he wasn't being a big rockstar and a mechanic. Nothing came close to the first porno you did with Steve and your friend, but each one was seductive, erotic, and sexy. In one, you even dressed up with masks like it was a masquerade ball and Steve/Eddie were wearing suits and masks.

Once you even dressed as a librarian and the guys were your naughty college fraternity boys. Only that porno came close to the others. Since Steve liked aerobics so much, he even wrote a script for an aerobics roleplay that involved you and Steve with some other ladies in the industry doing an orgy. There was other time you spent with Steve and Eddie, of course, when the cameras weren't rolling and you were no longer filming.

Scarlet would even guest feature in some of the other films you did with Steve and Eddie, and each film was super hot and fun to make. You made a good deal of money, but you also did them for the experience, of course. Steve even won an adult star award for the best male performer of the year, and you won one as the best breakout star. Eventually, you dated Steve and Eddie, and nothing came in between the three of you. No other performers and no anyone else could break your bond.

soundtrack

talk dirty to me and bad to be good by Poison

porno star by Motley Crue

pony by Ginuwine

sexual healing by sarah connor

pour some sugar on me by def leppard

whole lotta love by led zeppelin

feel like makin' love by bad company

Love Bites (so do I) by Halestorm

fever by Judas Priest

I Touch Myself by Divinyls

cherry pie by warrant

come by prince

harder faster by a wasp

taglist

@corneliuswatkins @jadeylovesmarvelxo @ali-r3n @mrprettywhenhecries @ofhawkinsandvecna

@keeryatmosphere @daisy-is-a-writer @lovelythoughtfulcupcake @munson-mjstan @espressomunson

@eddiemunsonfuxks @seatnights @corrodedcorpses @hcwthewestwaswcn @bimbobaggins69

@thescoopstroopers @haceleyes @onegirlmanytales @thepurplelovewitch @ellharrington

@stolen-in-moonlight @hellv1ra @kelseyaparker19 @keikoraven @loritate7311

@somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @steveslittlesunflower @shichey97 @harringtonfan4

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem reader #steve harrington x oc #adult star steve harrington #steve harrington oneshot #stranger things oneshot #stranger things au #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem reader

[lyril]

johnny & randall analysis / manifesto

in taking a little break from other things and deciding to rewatch monsters, inc., only to then find out about monsters at work on my way there, i've ended up thinking about these guys a lot lately — and since there's not a lot of stuff really digging into these characters, i wanted to share all the thoughts i've had over the past few weeks as an exercise.

as such, this'll be an analysis of johnny and randall's characters in relation to each other and their position as antagonists in the series, as well as how i'd personally go about extrapolating from their dynamic as a fun thing to explore if there was more time to expand upon and rewrite what we got! (as well as just having a little dubiously-healthy relationship fun along the way, you know how it is... give me and inch and i'll take a mile)

to me, the fun of filling in the blanks of them together is about how they've changed so much, and yet so little, falling back into old habits, feelings, and dynamics with an older and modern touch to them.

confused about the line of randall saying him and johnny were "besties"? not to worry, my friends. i got you.

“It’s easy to think that these characters can’t possibly have any depth or feelings because they’re monsters, but they do,” says Crystal. “They’re young men figuring out who they are and what they want in life—and then what life actually has in store for them."

general character / story analysis

all the way back at the beginning, we have the events of monsters university — in my opinion, the movie with the most to chew on in an emotional sense, and the one that really sets the stage for everything that comes after (probably a recommended thing to have as a prequel, to be fair). i want to start off with a few quotes from the art book and production notes about the story's themes...

If Monsters, Inc. was about what happens when a new and strange door opens, Monsters University is about what happens when the door you’ve been headed towards unexpectedly slams shut. It’s a question every one of us has had to deal with at one time or another: What do you do when your dreams run into the roadblocks of real life? (art book)

Producer Kori Rae recalls that when Dan Scanlon decided that the film was really going to be about Mike Wazowski and his story, "he was really attracted to the idea of how we deal with failure. What happens when what we thought we were going to do or who we were going to be changes, and we end up in a totally different place? When you ask someone 'How did you get where you are today?' very seldom do you hear 'I went to school, studied what I planned on studying, and then went immediately into that field of work.' This film delves into that in a really powerful way.” As Scanlon explains, "Mike basically realizes he needs to let go of what he thinks he has to be in order to be great, so that he can make room for what truly makes him great. That is the real story of the film. His friendship with Sulley comes out of that, and Sulley changes and becomes a better person because of that." As it so happens, this arc is not so different from the arc of the story process itself. "You fall in love with these things that you think the story is about, and then you realize the story is about something else," says Scanlon. "Then you have to let go of those things, and it's painful a lot of the time. But, it's always for the best." (art book)

According to the filmmakers, Mike’s story—and the fact that he doesn’t accomplish what he sets out to do—not only makes the story more interesting, it makes it more relatable. “A big part of this film is facing reality,” says story supervisor Kelsey Mann. “Sometimes it’s harsh and unfair, but that’s okay. It just means you were meant to do something else, something that ultimately might be more rewarding." (production notes)

"It’s during these years, whether in college or not, that we tend to learn who we are. And it’s not necessarily who we thought we were." ... "We don’t always get what we want, including life-long dreams. It’s perhaps the hardest lesson for any of us to face, but it’s the benchmark of maturity." (production notes)

"To me, this movie is for anyone who has dealt with failure. We all come face-to-face with it at some point in our lives." ... "I think it’s these missteps and misdirections that make us stronger and make our life’s story more interesting. I love movies that inspire us to believe that if we try hard enough, we can be anything we want. The truth is, sometimes as hard as we try, as much as we believe, things just don’t work out; it happens to all of us. But in hindsight, these 'failures' often turn out to be nothing more than detours leading to wonderful discoveries of a life, a career, a love we never would have thought possible." —Dan Scanlon (art book)

a lot of my thoughts had sparked when reading passages like this, connecting it back to their own character arcs, as we start to pick up on a few questions: how do we deal with failure? what happens when things don't work out, and what we thought we were going to do or who we were going to be changes, and we end up in a totally different place? when the door you’ve been headed towards unexpectedly slams shut? and how do the character's reactions to these things set them apart from each other?

"This is a story about a guy who loves something desperately but can’t have it. So what do you do when that happens, when you can’t have what you want?" —James Robertson, story artist (art book)

“College is the time when we all have so much optimism and confidence that we can change the world. We have dreams and goals. We’re unstoppable. And then reality sets in and we start hitting closed doors. It’s what you do when you hit a closed door—it’s what you do when your dream is shattered that really formulates who you are." —John Lasseter (production notes)

in doing a lot of analysis of the story's themes for me, this is the start of how these characters — mike and randall, sulley and johnny — are foils to each other.

james p. sullivan is a casual, laid-back guy who's just barely skirting by academically, as he believes his natural talent and family name are all he needs to succeed in life. johnny worthington III is already a popular and successful top dog with a legacy of his own to live up to, so he works to maintain his status and fraternity's image no matter the cost. mike wazowski is full of ambition, eager to make his dream of becoming a scarer at monsters, inc. a reality, with the assets at his side being hard work, wit, and determination. and despite his nervous and insecure personality, randall "randy" boggs wants to get in with the popular crowd to get a taste of recognition even if that means going down a different path completely.

breaking them down to the very basics, johnny and sulley are both Cool Guys/Nepo Babies who come from a long line of revered scarers, and who keep their fears, insecurities, and true feelings buried underneath of their outwardly shallow demeanor, while mike and randall are both Nerdy Guys without a lot of friends, making it out alone/together in the world, but with untapped potential and a very personal sense of mission for their years at university. they're each put in very similar positions, where sulley and johnny want to maintain what they have and use that to their advantage, and randall and mike want to surpass what they are into something bigger than themselves. sulley is everything mike wants to be as a natural-born scarer, and johnny is everything randall wishes he could be as the cool, popular guy. at the beginning of the movie, sulley gets paired with johnny, and mike with randall, but they end up swapping by the midpoint — sulley teams up with mike, and randall teams up with johnny. mike and sulley stay together by the end, but johnny and randall are ultimately split up. you get the sense that these duos are meant to be together with how they're divided, and, eventually, the results of everything, and how the characters deal with the prospect of failure color their positions as protagonists and antagonists, respectively.

"When it all goes south, it’s not pretty,” says Rae. “They get kicked out of the Scare Program by the Dean herself and their dreams are crushed. But as fate would have it, they’re forced to work together to make things right. The unlikely bonds they form with a group of misfits, and how they grow—individually and as friends—results in a very funny, very touching story that at its heart is completely relatable to people of almost every age." (production notes)

when mike and sulley get kicked out of the scare program, they're not about to give up just yet. after a lot of hardships, but also unexpected success along the way, they land themselves at the very last event of the scare games, and sulley goes the extra mile to secure a false win through cheating for mike, only for it to be a breaking point for the both of them — it drives mike into doubling down on his ambition, and then into disillusionment at his own inability to achieve what he's been so desperate to reach the entire story, as well as sulley into finally letting down his unaffected façade and admitting he has no idea what he's doing either. he knew how someone like mike would take the loss, after he's worked so hard for everything, but in the end... the measures taken to prevent that from happening only ended up making things worse. at the end of the day, the true victory they get to have is in a personal sense, since they do get kicked out of university and have to continue working hard to get what they want... and they're also to be able to prove something to themselves in an honest accumulation of their efforts, through what they've learned and gone through together despite them not coming out on top. by the end of the movie, they accept their fate in stride — even (especially) mike, who sulley helps to realize that he has other avenues to explore, not just that one defined path he set out so desperately to chase. after they come to terms with the failure they went through together, they're able to grow and become better friends and people because of it, and it doesn't stop them from working as hard and honestly as they can... and eventually, they end up where they are today!

on the other hand... the way johnny and randall take their shortcomings end up being the exact opposite!

getting into it ✨️

JOHNNY WORTHINGTON has reason to be supremely confident—he’s the top Scare student at Monsters University and president of the best fraternity on campus, Roar Omega Roar (RΩR). Voiced by Nathan Fillion, Johnny comes from a long line of MU Scarers and respects the school’s legacy, traditions and most of all, the system by which Scaring excellence is judged. He may have been born with a silver spoon in his jaws, but this monster’s no softie. (production notes)

"Johnny runs RΩR, so if the look of the house is designed around any one character, it's him. The RΩR interior gives you this feeling of tradition and entitlement, sort of 'Don't touch anything.' [There are] walls of trophies, walls of history, and pictures of past classes. It should give you the feeling that Johnny has something to lose, too. It's not just Mike and Sulley who have things at stake. Johnny has a tradition to live up to, and he's afraid of failing." (art book)

"[He] was probably raised by a dad who was a real jerk to him, who 'didn't raise a loser', where winning's the most important thing..." —Nathan Fillion (interview)

it's that idea of success, of staying on top and maintaining that image, position, and legacy that came before him that has shaped his worldview and that johnny's character is all about. for johnny, to not live up to tradition is failure.

johnny worthington already had it made by the time he was born, clearly growing up wealthy and with connections in life lined up for him in advance, where even in school he's popular and well-liked for his highly-ranked natural talents and "charming" personality, despite still being a shallow, manipulative asshole at heart... and all he has to do is to hold on to that silver spoon, which is at the same time, is a lot of pressure on his shoulders...

and with so much importance put on appearances, it's his tendency to read books by their cover that leads him to completely underestimate what mike and sulley are capable of together in monsters university. an emphasis is put on how big of a deal it'll be if RΩR loses the scare games to a team of underdogs like OK, since, as mike puts it... no one will ever let him forget it. not only does he care a lot about maintaining that status as top dog, but he wants to ensure nothing gets caught up in the process, as he takes precautions earlier in the story by putting sulley's place in RΩR on hold until he can live up to what he says he is... and when it comes to OK's unexpected success throughout the scare games, there's a sense of him starting to feel threatened, which leads to pulling stunts like the "cute-ma kappa" prank. johnny goes out of his way to try and take them down a peg through methods like "cutting remarks, taking shots at [their] confidence, and humiliation," as nathan fillion puts it in regards to johnny's more "insidious" bullying techniques. we don't get a lot of time to linger on how he takes the "loss" in the end (other than it very clearly shaking his entire world) before he later goes to offer sulley his position back, and then is rejected even further. what i enjoy very much about the situation is how RΩR didn't actually lose to OK, on account of sulley's cheating — it's just enough for it to appear as if they do for a while and to make an impact on johnny at first, and it kind of leads to a perfect uncertainty of how he really takes things in the end... even if he's no sore loser on the surface.

and i think it makes a lot of sense in how exactly johnny's changed over the years when we see him again in monsters at work. on the outside, it absolutely looks as if he's now humbled, as if maybe that sliver of defeat put enough of a number on him... and yet on the inside is someone still clinging to the importance of the legacy he has to maintain. i don't think johnny is heartless by any means — it's not like he's been nefariously plotting over the last 20 years or anything, as he's already set and successful as a CEO as well as a husband, a father, a family man and a charitable force of his community... and in a lot of ways, he has changed, softened around the edges, and is living life as everyone else is... right?

after knowing him first in monsters inc., we can easily see through sulley's character in monsters university where the façade ends and james p. sullivan begins, as he's long grown past the need for something like that, paving the way for him as the kind-hearted and humble guy he is today... and johnny, on the other hand...? over the years, it seems to have become a little hard to tell where exactly that point is, of what part of the act is really "johnny" under all of that flourish, benevolence, and self-restraint. with how he would play it up in university, it was quite obvious for him too that he was putting on a show... and yet now the moments in and out of it are few and far between, where it almost feels as if the mask is glued on until he gets pushed to his furthest point, only showing cracks of a different face... and in all that time, johnny clearly has been honing his skills — a constant performance with anyone and everyone, polished to perfection even with whom he lets in on his little scheme. as a businessman, i think it makes sense that his manipulative tendancies never really went away, as that's something that would benefit him a ton. he's come to veer out of "smarmy" and back around again into "charming", with less of that outward swagger and leaning even more into the extra subtle approach — he's a lot more down to earth even when he's still got that glint in his eye. a picture of performative altruism, yet is still doing good nonetheless... and it sort of puts him in a strange position of everything he does being simultaneously fake and real and the same time, superficial in an all-new way. how much is what he said to tylor is true, especially when he does have genuine reason to see himself in him, to respect the scaring legacy and see how tylor's potential is being wasted? what would johnny with no filter on a regular day even look like? how much does randall see, or even claire, or his kids? who even is johnny worthington, really...?

and i have to wonder if there's a fundamental issue in how johnny approaches the world, of someone born with a silver spoon in his mouth — really honing in on that nepotism of someone very privledged, and how his background in an environment like that might've shaped him in ways like this. and when his prize jewel is threatened — the precious legacy of what came before — that's when he starts to act again, all under the cover of the rock solid image he's created...

with laugh power on the rise, johnny has to think about what it would mean to adjust to a changing world, of something so far off the path you're on, to start from the ground up in a completely different way for the greater good in terms of both efficiency and in a moral sense... and of what it would mean for his company, of the kind of light it would paint him in within the world he's grown up in (a lot of very relevant political views we get a peek of in the whole laugh power vs scream power debate!) and what we know of the looming figures of those that came before him — monsters who are very clearly not made for being jokesters. considering what we know about him, and the lessons we never actually get to see him learn and grow from... the choice he'll make is clear. for a guy like johnny, there's no easy surrender to something like that. all of this is a lot bigger than little competitions in university. laugh power may as well be the future (and boy, does he know it!) but it's scare power that made his family business what it is. and there's a resurgence of image first and foremost when it comes to the underhanded way he goes about it, where whatever's going on behind the scenes (such as outright stealing laugh power sources from monsters, inc. and with a total disregard for the moral side of it all) may as well not be relevant as long as that outside picture is kept clean and the appearance of tradition is being maintained, which makes it very clear where exactly his priorities lie.

(even someone like waternoose almost had a more benevolent goal at the end of the day — everything he did may have been something he was doing for the sake of his company, but it was also for his people, to quite literally "keep the lights on" all while he really did care about monsters like sulley! i'm willing to bet that if laugh power had been effectively realized in his time, he wouldn't have even needed to do all that, as it all seems like a "desperate measures call for desperate solutions" thing... while johnny is a lot more concerned with holding onto what's already his, for his own sake, rather than everyone else's — at the end of the day, he doesn't actually care about the city's power situation at all... he really plays into the weight of the "family business" side of it all.)

"One of the themes in [Monsters University] is seeing a person’s hidden value—a skill Johnny certainly lacks. He takes people at face value, and he’ll never know them. That’s a hurdle Mike and Sully have to overcome with one another." —Nathan Fillion (production notes)

a core of him remains the same, still concerned with image and legacy, and possibly still... "unable to see people for what they're really worth", as what's described as his fatal flaw in the monsters university days. i've been trying to wrap my head around what it means to say that exactly, as clearly, he can see through people well enough to manipulate anyone well enough, to even pick at their spceific weak spots and see why they may be useful to him, all to exploit that as he pleases... maybe tylor and randall are just particularly easy marks for him, or maybe that is the point of it all. i have to wonder if it's because he sees most people — not just tylor as part of the plan — in terms of what they can do for him, and how they and the relationships he forms can be used to help further his own goals and agenda, since... he's sort of been doing that for a long time now. business as usual, you could say. a very transactional measurement of worth, always looking out for the best of the best, but it leading to still missing key features in people's MO as he's still biased in his own certain ways. and to be fair... that is sort of how relationships work in general. we're both here because we get something out of it, even if it's for something as simple as companionship... yet i can imagine it as being a lot more mechanical, calculated, and in focus for someone like johnny, when he's never not playing 5D chess. he may act friendly with everyone, but i bet there's a degree of distance between the relationships johnny has with his employees and the ones sulley and mike do.

over the course of monsters university, the trait as johnny's fatal flaw — maybe improved upon over the years, maybe not — plays into his downfall, as another theme of the movie (as well as carried on into monsters at work) is about seeing people's hidden strengths beyond what they appear — and so he completely underestimates mike and his team. in monsters at work, i get the feeling they're playing with that again on purpose, a testament to how he hasn't really changed, by still falling victim to the same motivations as before.

as self serving as it seems... throughout the season, we do get to see through his company and characters like rosie how it's not just him grappling with these changing times, but a lot of people — and that's why a very similar thing is reflected in tylor, who is dealing with the same situation! tylor has graduated college, expecting to go down the path of scaring, only for the rug to be torn out from underneath of him. ("what happens when things don't work out, and what we thought we were going to do or who we were going to be changes, and we end up in a totally different place?") tylor is face to face with changing times, threatening to completely upheave what he knows, forcing him into and to consider situations he isn't sure he's meant for, and he's struggling to adjust to the path and new world around him... and when johnny is already on his way to push back against that narrative, that's why his story gets intertwined with tylor's — they're in a similar predicament, and that's also why he reminds him of himself, playing into the "you can't escape who you are, so embrace it" angle (something i bet he really does believe when it's his father who told it to him) all while narratively, everything in the season plays with the motifs that both movies have explored. ("what happens when the door you're heading towards unexpectedly slams shut?" and "what happens when a new door opens?") and yet... we know tylor's here to be manipulated, and has been picked out from the start. tylor's worth to him in all of that is (primarily) measured by that role, where in the heat of the moment, he even says himself the only thing he can see tylor being good for is a pawn on his chessboard... and i think it's (part of) why it looks like johnny is written a little "stupid" in the finale episodes, in that they're trying to play with this weakness of his. johnny overestimates everything he's done to tylor, through severing all those ties, appealing to his own ego, giving him a reason to come crawling back to him and him only... he thinks he's got tylor fully hooked and already reeled in, and maybe for anyone else, that plan would've worked out flawlessly, but... tylor is our ProtagonistTM. he doesn't understand what tylor would even have left to his name, how his moral code may be shaken awake in scaring a kid he knows, how his friendships could prevail despite it all... all of these things that make tylor ultimately still sympathetic and able to turn things back around, even when he's fallen so hard for johnny's bait and in such an awful situation. johnny may be good at this game, but he's not an expert, and he still doesn't fully see tylor, only what he picks out in him, what's useful to him... and how much does that extend to everything else in his life?

as the head of fearco., of course johnny is still stuck in that old mindset and fear of failure when he's got even more at stake — he's always trying to stay one step ahead, using his position to keep control of what he's afraid of and manipulating the people around him and their circumstances. in a lot of ways, johnny is a bit different now, but we know that he never really went down a path of acceptance, to start to let go of the fear he has, so he's the same old johnny at heart, even if under a slightly different cover... and what better to lead him down the path he's on?

(compare all of this to sulley, who, in contrast, feels like he's moreso capitalizing off of his family name, rather than it really being what's at stake for him... and in his situation, who is able to move past the crushing idea of having to live up to what came before him, to be more true to himself, and to help embrace the new path forward, not only in terms of efficiency for his own people, but for everyone, as he embraces the laugh power and monsters, inc.'s new CEO...!)

Monsters University freshman RANDY BOGGS has big aspirations for college life. The peculiar lizard-like monster with his host of gangly arms and legs plans to major in Scaring and lead an active social life filled with fun, friends and fraternity parties. “He’s not the Randall that we know from ‘Monsters, Inc.,’” says Steve Buscemi, who once again provides the voice of the iconic character. “He’s a little insecure and he wants to fit in, so he works toward pledging the coolest fraternity.” Story supervisor Kelsey Mann says he thinks audiences will be surprised to see Randall’s humble beginnings. “He’s super happy and positive. And, just like Mike, he’s always dreamed of becoming a Scarer.” He certainly seeks inspiration. One of Randall’s most memorable lines from “Monsters, Inc.” finds its way into the prequel. Hanging above Randy’s bed is an inspirational poster that reads “Winds of Change.” Audiences will get the inside scoop on just what sparks Randy’s competitive spirit—but the future top Scarer at Monsters, Inc. will first need to get his embarrassing disappearing habit under control, because Randy’s not sure how he’ll ever be a great Scarer if nobody can see him. (production notes)

"In Monsters, Inc. Randall has a real problem with Sulley and being second-best to him. So we thought, let’s see that happen for the first time in this movie, in a big public event. That’s why we have Sulley and Randy go head-to-head in the final competition." (art book)

as of now, randall doesn't actually have as much screentime as johnny does to talk about — although, his time may very well be coming soon! even with the amount he does have, i think randall also shines especially well in his response to failure.

in the midst of humble beginnings, randall "randy" boggs is a sweet guy, although a bit naïve on top of being timid and insecure as someone who hasn't really figured out his place in life. at the bottom of the food chain, he wants to fit in and get in with the cool, popular crowd, the people who have already had it made.

by the last half of monsters university, randy's finally gotten what he's wanted — he's in with the "cool kids", he's getting attention and recognition as they push through ahead with his dream team in the scare games... until his match-up with sulley, where he accidentally messes up randy's camouflage and therefore his scare attempt, which ultimately ends up getting him kicked out of RΩR. we see earlier in the movie how embarrassment is something he wants to avoid ("if i do that in scaring class, i'll be a joke!" and "whoops! that could've been embarrassing...") so to top it all off, it's also in an utterly humiliating, public moment. not only is this is randy's big taste of failure, but he also gets something very important taken from him, severing that chance, those connections, everything he was aiming for by no fault of his own... and what he's left with is a grudge, where in his own inability to accept and move on from the event, it digs its claws in deep. he may say that'll be the last time he'll ever lose to sulley, but we know randall goes on to lose to him over and over and over again — and it ruins him!

by the time of in monsters, inc. randy has continued down the path he was already on the way to, molding himself into a completely petty, spiteful and arrogant jerk. as randall, he's a loner who runs hot and cold, where he's got that sleazy underhanded smugness, but is also incredibly tempermental and becomes hot-headed and irritated on a dime, especially when he lets his ego get the best of him... he's got a no-nonsense tolerance for stupidity, but still finds time to be snarky and play it up every once in a while. he's grown the confidence he wished he could've had before, and now he's the one bossing the nerds (fungus) around. with an unrelenting and ambitious ruthlessness to him, randall is one lizard who never learned his lesson. he's still trying to climb to the top, not only to beat sulley, but to have him beneath him... all over something that happened so long ago!

when it comes to randall's motivations, and between him and sulley, there's a bit of a "chicken or the egg" situation in monsters, inc. where you wonder if the personal aspect of despising what sulley has done (and in his eyes is continuing to) to him and wanting to put him in his place once and for all or the desire to be #1 is more important, but they're pretty much intertwined... with a lean in the personal direction, in my opinion.

at the end of the scare games, it's only sulley who messes everything up for him, and he decides that he'll never lose to him ever again — not just in general, but specifically to sulley, and that's something he keeps with him for a very, very long time. throughout monsters, inc., there's definitely a very personal way he goes about his competitiveness and interacting with him, where he won't so much as offer him a friendly handshake. when he talks to mike about revolutionizing the scaring industry, he even singles out how it'll finally make sullivan beneath him, and when he gets banished — kicked out, you could say! — he states that's what he deserves, anyway... for what, exactly? when waternoose tells him how sulley, the guy he treats like a son, is twice the scarer he'll ever be, you can tell that really gets to him. even the way he talks about him is very off-topic ("you stupid, pathetic waste!"), and after all... "you still think this is about that stupid scare record?"

to be fair, though, the goal of his from the beginning was to cruise with the popular crowd, so clearly that's a big factor in everything, but what we see just makes you think that he wouldn't be nearly as crazy about everything if it wasn't james p. sullivan on top, always being second best to him, the guy who ruined everything for him in the first place. he's clearly a man of grudges and petty revenge... and yet, if it's just attention or achievement he wants, he's already crazy high on the scoreboards which isn't a bad spot to be in at all! he's still excelling in his field (i do wonder if his awful personality gets in the way of attention) and yet that isn't enough, he's never satisfied even when he would be getting the very thing he wants, because it's sulley he has to take down once and for all in order to prove he's the best... and he loses, and he loses, and he loses.

especially with everything that happens in monsters, inc., it's no surprise to anyone that randall is back in the way he is for monsters at work, even more hellbent on getting revenge against mike and sulley, except this time with the connection that had been lost to him before... and who knows how everything will turn out next time?

(mike is an ambitious over-achiever from the start, and yet, even as stubborn as he is, he eventually realizes the worth in his true callings and is able to start a new journey. on the other hand, randall's persistance paints him as someone who never learned when to quit... even for his own good.)

for both of these characters, the message is clear: "It’s what you do when you hit a closed door—it’s what you do when your dream is shattered that really formulates who you are." to not face the reality of everything... look at where it's left them.

as we can see, it's in mike and sulley's ability to humble themselves after everything and to eventually accept, learn from, and move on from the failure they go through even when it changes the trajectory of the journey they're on, that they find their strengths by the end of monsters university, leaving the doors open for new paths ahead of them... and when we see them again, johnny and randall are still caught up in long unresolved hang-ups and shortcomings and stuck with old problems/habits that never really went away in the first place. as long as they persistently hold onto the past (in randall's case) and in maintaining control over what they fear losing the most, unable to move on in a different way (in johnny's case), it's these kinds of things that prevent them from growing and from facing the reality of everything, as they only go on to become the bad people they are today... all that is what drives them as antagonists — their reaction is anti-thetical to the story's themes and messages.

and now that we know the characters and their deal, what about how their stories intertwine with one another's...?

dynamic in university

before we get into my thoughts about johnny and randall in the present, let's go back to the start again, to the time spent together at university. (with the days between the scare game events that we see, under the assumption that most of them were spaced at least a bit evenly, i like to think randy was in RΩR for about a month... give or a take a week or so.)

"stay outta trouble, wild man."

we never get to see how johnny became how he is, but it's not too hard to figure out how it happened. on the other hand, we get to know firsthand how randy transforms, and the moment we first meet him actually says a lot! when randy accidentally uses his camouflage ability in front of mike, we can see that he's uncertain and self conscious about it until mike tells him what he thinks, commenting on how he could pull it off if only he didn't have the glasses to give it away. and even with something as small as that interaction, the guy just... stops wearing his glasses altogether, even though he (clearly) needs them to see! of course, this is a fun retcon explanation of why randall is always squinting as he does (along with all the other ways the dialouge here is ironic considering what later becomes of him) but it's also something that almost immediately gives off the sense of him as a young, impressionable guy who's easily influenced by other people... it's just kind of funny to think about how he'd willingly make life harder on himself on the evaluation of someone he just met, if it means he can pull off a neat trick of all things, isn't it? and it makes sense as we learn about how he wants to get in with the popular crowd, the "cool" kids, in the chance of finally being accepted and recognized, to get the attention and power he's never really had, and to get a sense of being seen in an active and fun social life.

we see randy go from someone who always faded into the background, a bit nervous about being invisible, and after a shift of perspective... now he's adapting to and changing himself to blend in to what's around him, and in order to cover up what he once was in the process, randy sheds his former skin. (he's not beating the lizard boy allegations, i'll tell you that.)

everything leads to him falling in with the wrong crowd, and as he's welcomed into RΩR, he begins to pick up on the sort of attitude and behavior he feels he needs to "fit in" — he turns on his friend mike, he joins in on the cruel pranks they pull, and his mindset starts to change...!

The ROAR OMEGA ROAR fraternity is made up of the best of the best. They’re the smartest, most skilled, scariest monsters at Monsters University, and come from families with a long, proud history of Scaring. While the RΩRs may be preppy in dress, they are ferocious in action and downright ruthless if necessary. Self-declared as the most elite house on campus, the RΩRs are lead by Johnny Worthington who presides over the house like an all-powerful monarch. Eager to continue their Scare Games winning streak, the RΩRs will do whatever it takes to stay on top. (production notes)

the fact that johnny let him into RΩR at all is fascinating/a little wild, cus he's still got that nervous, nerdy disposition at the start, and it feels as if he absolutely doesn't have the attitude to fit in with them especially when johnny is all about appearances... so i have to wonder what happened to land him in this position in the first place! (and i'll be honest — what we actually see of them in the movie and in general isn't really all that interesting, since a lot of it is either off-screen or the plot is busy covering other, more important stuff in its runtime rather than giving them much of a chance to shine... but that's why we're here right now, to speculate on that dynamic. and because i'm insane!) (it's also not something we're even supposed to think about too hard, but when do i let THAT stop me?)

the question here is definitely about what he can get out of having someone like randy on the team, in what he can use him for, and in a way, it sort of has the same energy as getting asked out as a joke... i can imagine the rest of the RΩRs were pretty skeptical at first, so for johnny to reassure them he knows what he's doing is fun to think about, although... i'd also expect some backhanded comments comparing him to sulley in his time there — a little salt in the wound for later. given how it's randy's ability to "camouflage" that got him into all of these situations, good and bad, i like to think he accidentally managed to scare johnny with it at some point, and while randy's response was to panic because he just bumped into Johnny Worthington III... it's still something that does catch his attention and he thinks it's a cute enough trick. outside of being a little one-trick wonder for them, i could also imagine he noticed randy's association with mike and purposefully had an eye on him for that reason, in a similar fashion to how johnny plays with tylor's relationships in monsters at work, where he picks tylor specifically to turn him against val in the softball game and put another bad mark on their relationship status ("y'know, i sorta had trouble figuring out which team you were REALLY playing for...") and all that... even the fact that randy is willing to switch sides on a dime at the offer (something that tylor certainly takes a while on) is all johnny needs to hear. with the scare games coming up, and having just lost sulley on the team, i can also imagine he might be a little desperate...

after all, randy is a pretty rounded guy — he's still doing well academically, while he also isn't as much of a stick in the mud as mike is, yet we see he's already got the potential to be scary in utilizing his camouflage, and... he's also easy to manipulate, eager and even desperate to do anything if it means he gains the approval of someone like johnny...!

and johnny is playful in such an alluring way, and even if other characters like mike can very clearly see the fakeness in johnny's demeanor, he's outwardly "kind" enough for a naïve randy to truly mistake it as all genuine, and can't help but to be easily drawn in by johnny's charm. i can imagine him getting kind of teased in there without even realizing it but johnny a bit facetiously getting others to back off a bit, which leaves an impression on him... on the outside, it kinda looks like johnny's taking him under his wing, but for the most part... it's more like johnny playing with his prey. a test run on using people as he does nowadays. a little pet... of course, all of this to randy? to not only be noticed, but also picked out of everyone else by someone like johnny worthington...? what a sweet taste of validation. no one like johnny has ever recognized or noticed him, and to seriously give him a chance. maybe he wasn't as socially awkward or as much of a loser as he thought he was! randy genuinely wants to impress johnny, to hold the attention he gets from him, to feel like he's accepted and truly part of the crew, and even be... friends...?

i want him to be fascinated with johnny, to idolize him, of the symbol of what he stands for, of what he has to teach him and of what randy has to learn from everything. after all, johnny's always been everything randall wishes he could be, both past and present — johnny is confident (as he compliments mike on), suave, and talented, already set-up at home and in his future career paths, he's got power and endless attention/validation and all that through his popularity... truly, he's the "coolest" of the "cool" kids.

and if this is what he wants, with johnny included in the mix... i want to highlight that, to carry it on and see how it'll change in the present time. in this way, you kind of concentrate a dynamic and person into symbolizing a desire, and warp it into something else, which inherently makes it a little... dangerous to chase. and i feel like it's something that makes a lot of sense of what could exist off-screen, y'know?

(in designing my gijinkas for these guys, i give johnny a classic slick-backed hairstyle, only for randall's monsters, inc., design to mimic it along with a popped collar for himself — a carrying over of that inspiration in a subtle way, where you might not even notice unless you put them side by side. i see a lot of people design randall as a bit more formally-uptight, but in my opinion the vibe he gives off is definitely a "corporate sleazy wannabe cool-guy" rather than just "office worker")

even with as brief of a time as he's with the RΩRs, i love thinking of what he must've picked up from it all... in order to stick around, he's got to play johnny's game by johnny's rules, lest the idea of getting kicked off hovers over his head damocles-style. to start as a baseline for his personality shift, all then compounded with his growing cynical bitterness and with his grudge piling on itself over the years. he seems pretty straight-laced when we meet him, after all — the guy starts out trying to get in with the crowd by making them cupcakes of all things, which may be very cute, but it seems a little off of the target demographic he's aiming for... and it's fun thinking of them engaging in a lot more rowdy and mature of things than he's used to (congrats to randy on the first underage drinking experience) since he's also the freshman to a lot of their seniors. even when he is finally in with them, a lot of his body language throughout the movie is still very nervous/to himself, so it's fun to imagine him trying despite that to imitate their behavior and join in on the chaos... to give him a little bit of experience. (honestly, he's so susceptible to peer pressure at this point he might as well be on an ad campaign talking about it...)

i've also played around with the idea of randy being offered to rejoin RΩR after sulley turns down johnny at the end of the movie, because i absolutely would love for him to have more time in there, but i think the idea actually takes away from the impact of things a Lot... the point of things here is that randall feels personally victimized by having something taken away from him, as if he's truly LOST everything here, by no fault of his own... since, at this point in time, johnny is also a lot more shallow in his judgements, so i feel like randall's place in humiliating them and in being the "weak link" of the team means i find it hard to believe that johnny would ever let him back in, but, as i said... i've still played around with an avenue for it anyway. i can imagine he got teased for the incident for a long time, and bringing it up in present day would REALLY hit a nerve...

and by the end of things, he's under the impression that johnny genuinely thought he was on the same level as everyone else, and how it's sulley's fault — all from one little slip up — that his dreams were ripped from him... and maybe, that randy and johnny were even... friends...!

dynamic in monsters at work

i'll start off this part of the essay by saying i don't really enjoy how they've written randall in monsters at work so far. there's a certain balance of his character that feels off to me. and they do sort of accomplish the energy he has (the voice is also really throwing me off) but they also really play up his general snarky attitude/mischievousness in a way that's written really... lame. it's not good! i think he'll need to have more screentime to really say for sure how well they've done him overall, and as usual, the fault is more in the execution of the ideas rather than in the ideas themselves. the actual building blocks they've given me are very interesting, as we'll see, and i really hope the writers step up their game again and know what they're doing with him if they give us another season... on the other hand, i think how they've written johnny is nearly perfect, as i feel like it's a very logical continuation of his character, and the way they ramp up his subtle manipulation is excellent. there's so much to him that looks completely normal on the surface, and is enough to effortlessly fool the viewer if they're not paying attention, but is all apart of the long game and absolutely woven in there tightly if you're looking close enough. and when johnny's character has circled around so well into utilizing the original unresolved motivations he had in mind from the start — of wanting to maintain the legacy before him — personally, i feel like it's only fair for randall's character to do the same in a new, twisted way, as neither of them continue to learn their lessons... and if you're gonna pair them up again, how the past affects them now is an utterly unavoidable topic, so i'm going to LoseTM my mind if johnny's relationship and influence on him never comes up again in a future randall storyline.

even so, i think we can all agree that the way johnny and randall meet up was completely fumbled, and it's something i would adjust and change to be completely different if i could. sulley and mike were able to find their way out of banishment just fine, and randall could easily do the same by finding another door eventually. (i've heard someone suggest that johnny was just happening to be scaring at the time and randall is interpretating it as johnny outright coming to save him, and as much as i love that sort of thinking for randall, as we'll see, i still think that's a bit too unclear and coincidental...) i have no idea of a better alternative at the moment of writing this, though. EDIT: i do like this as a starting point!

all that aside, what is actually going on in their relationship here, anyway?!

we're going to have to wait and see, but i can imagine a world in which the writers take a route of randall having planned to backstab johnny in some way, and i feel like something like that is... predictable. maybe he's secretly wanting to get back at johnny for underestimating him. maybe his tendency to go so far he loses track of the whole point of it all has him lean even further into the desire to be #1 and eventually wants someone like johnny beneath him too, under his control. maybe there's an echo of competitiveness, where mike and sulley lift each other up, johnny and randall end up tearing each other down. i don't know! and yet, the way this all of this plays out, with johnny now in jail, doesn't really leave any room for anything like this to actually go and happen in front of us at least...

and really, it all depends on what randall's goal even is at this point — as i've talked about in the past sections, i get the feeling how in his case it may actually be more about the personal grudge and response to those who've wronged him, and the following desire to put them in their place once and for all. especially after monsters, inc., he's very much honing in on the revenge angle before anything else and will be especially going forward, which, at this point... could use some spice to it, y'know? (<- scared)

i also can't buy the idea that they would secretly hate each other, and especially not outwardly so. i think it's only natural for them to get on each other's nerves a bit as part of the dynamic, even if just through their natural clash of methods and attitudes — randall's got an awful temper, so he'll be complaining no matter who he's with, but johnny is also incredibly good at maintaining his cool as he wants to keep people wrapped around his finger... still, if sulley mike fight like an old married couple, they should too. i think part of the fun in them together is how randall is usually the straight man in a lot of his other dynamics, such as with mike or even fungus, but when paired up again with johnny he's got a great opportunity to be the one reeled back in, which we don't usually get to play with... and so they complement each other in a fun way. short fuse vs almost unshakable demeanor, openly hostile vs openly friendly, defensive, fragile ego vs genuine confidence...

we've also got a final question here in terms of "using" one another, and what they have right now is a mutually beneficial situation — an already established "you scratch my back, i'll scratch yours" deal. johnny's clearly looking for a good asset in randall, which is enough for him to consider a team up, and randall is looking for a good way to get revenge on monsters, inc., so working in johnny's overarching scheme is great on that. so in a way, of course they're "using" each other! (it's also fun to think about how they must really enable each other to not be able to really grow past their issues and into better people, very unlike what mike and sulley's friendship does for them, as the goal of everything is both of their hangups intertwined as they're stuck chasing the past... if the storyline goes on, it's only going to be more of randall refusing to let go)

okay, okay, okay — so if randall wasn't planning to backstab him for any reason, and they don't secretly hate each other, and they really did just happen to be working together in the awareness of a mutually beneficial relationship, then...

we have a guy who believes johnny went out of his way to save him (with the fact that he apparently cares enough to help him out at all being notable in itself) and now they've been working together since he "owes him one" (a doubtfully binding contract for mister randall boggs, I Know What You Are). randall is written as extra mischievous, even to the point of being kind of juvenile about it... and to top it all off, he thinks him and johnny were friends in college, actively referencing that period in their lives. joined at the hip. besties. when all of this is coming from a guy who's held a grudge for the past 20 years over the incident that severed the connection they had in the first place, and when we take the rest of the concepts i've been building up to for the entire post, doesn't it all just scream a regressive denial of the past?! if the whole "besties" thing isn't just a weird side-effect of bad writing (and really, i would like to trust the writers here...) i feel like there's a perfect avenue here???

i wouldn't be surprised if any of this was how they went about it, and we know what his main focus is at the end of the day, but it's the idea of randall genuinely still wanting johnny's praise and approval, companionship, and to be his little henchman again in this era that appeals to me the most to play around with.

think about how much value must be placed on what happened at the scare games for it to domino effect so hard into what he is now, after all this time! and its just so... wonderfully naïve of him. randall, who's a cynic, now jaded beyond recognition of what he once was and practically a different person these days, a loner and an asshole with no real connections anymore... who still can't resist the craving of a connection, and deep inside it all, still has a piece of what randy wanted in his heart... all through his boss, johnny — in part the starring idol symbolization of past aspirations, something he's lost but has now reclaimed, the only person who could ever hope to understand him, all wrapped up into someone deviously charming as he is... isn't that compelling? an opportunity like this, where he can work together with johnny worthington and also get his revenge on monsters, inc. at the same time... it's all coming up RANDALL! i want to take his character, put him in a container, shake him around, and tell him You Are Not Immune To Very Real Human Emotions regardless of how self aware he is about it. it kind of takes things back around in a satisfying way for me, where despite how much they've changed, they fall back into a similar, yet different dynamic, in which old habits die hard. i think it'd be so interesting to really play it up!

despite the mutual awareness of the relationship, there's still a very recurring imbalance here as there was before, where johnny's his boss, and randall is the henchman... and if randy really does still think they're friends above all else, and the part of him despising being second-best is still relevant in a general sense, that opens up a lot of fun perception-shattering paths...

my favorite tidbit about the two is how they address each other — johnny is on a first-name basis with nearly everyone, as it's apart of his own personal brand of manipulation in his openly friendly and casual demeanor to open up a sense of familiarity, in order to keep other people's guards down. on the other hand, randall calls people by their last names, usually dripping with scorn while he's at it (fungus, sullivan, wazowski...) and yet, with each other... it's the complete opposite. we only ever see johnny refer to him as "boggs", again, despite even his other employees being first-named, and randall calls him a more familiar and respectful "johnny" in return, despite him being his boss, which is... an absolutely insane detail that i hope stays intact, because what the fuck. when johnny is as calculated as he is about stuff like this, very purposefully insisting on that first-name basis, to call randall of all people "boggs"... i like to compare it to how one might withhold a kiss from someone nonverbally asking for it. a little ah ah ah. despite how close they may get otherwise, it's a tool of leverage, a way of keeping him at arms length all the same... he knows randall wants something like that, but he doesn't let him have it. (although, i'm thinking about the idea of him on a very special occasion calling him Randall, maybe even a Randy to butter him up/get something from him/keep him from doing something impulsive because it really gets at his attention...)

and i think that kind of sets the scene for how i imagine randall is more invested in this than he is, as he always has been... randall truly addresses him like a friend after the introduction, referencing the past in a pretty notable way, and yet johnny sticks to the formality...?

you still got it, boggs!

even so, i also want to avoid the bit of overlap with chet's situation, who still feels completely unacknowledged by johnny. i've always thought it was a bit weird that johnny's front isn't extended to chet, so i have to wonder if he's always been a bit of a subtle punching bag, an outlet for annoyance, since he knows — or rather, thinks — that after all of this time, chet won't stand up for himself or leave no matter what he does, even when he doesn't really care for him all that much. and i don't think that extends to randall at all... with how johnny responds to him going up to jumpscare tylor, where he shoves chet off of him and then immediately goes to play it up and throw a bit of praise in randall's way... i can imagine he gets a bit of special treatment! even the loyal chet wouldn't get to drink afterhours with johnny in his stupid mancave. (imagine the jealousy angle they could've played up here... maybe even with tylor and randall too? he'd fucking HATE tylor's ass...)

i have to admit, i am a little too obsessed with the idea i proposed earlier of randall as being like johnny's little "pet" and enjoying it as such. after all, they must've been working together for quite a while now, and randall would honestly be REALLY good at being the evil cat on the villain's lap... he should put that on his resume or something, because he's gonna do such a good job at being johnny's henchman, something both normal to want and possible to achieve. curling up to him for attention and praise, and johnny keeping him close as company on top of it as someone he can really let everything in on... like a confidante of sorts. a best friend. a... silly little lizard. (randall is this comic to me)

while i do keep getting a bit mad at the writing for him in the show, it's also kind of hilarious how petty and juvenile the stunts randall pulls are, even if i don't think he's nearly as sly as he should be. in monsters, inc., he absolutely is a little impish, as well as insanely petty... but is overall still trying to keep on the down-low and be cautious about everything, openly scolding fungus the whole movie. and yet, i do genuinely adore the idea of him being more excitable, unhinged, and mischievous when he's working with johnny, sort of bringing him back around to those glory days, chasing old highs... even getting kind of playful, which is another side of him we don't really get to use very often. maybe even... a bit happy for once in his life? C'mon, Johnny, it'll be just like we used to!

i can imagine him wanting johnny to see him in a new light and validate what he's become once and for all, as if to say, Look at me, Johnny — I've gotten rid of my ooey-gooey interior just like you wanted! You'll take me back now, right? he's not that same nervous young guy from before, still in the process of leaving his old pink-and-white polka-dotted hearts self behind... now he's a capable and underhanded perfect henchman for the job, now he's off the rails, and he's still got something to prove all over again, since... apparently, his ego's not as rock-solidly immovable as he thinks it is. in fact, in comparison to johnny, his ego is pretty fragile and he can get very sensitive and defensive at times... an echo of not truly having ditched that early insecurity. so when things like praise and bribery are tools in johnny's toolkit, i can imagine him being effective in sort of taming randall at times, calming him down... after all, wouldn't that make it all worth it? deep down, the idea of for real private attention and praise??? from johnny worthington????? now finally being able to appreciate his efforts again, to forgive him and accept him back? the college boy buried inside of him is very satisfied with this situation, to say the least. he finally feels more on johnny's level, less like an apprentice in training, he's got the experience of his own... and that leaves him wide open for johnny to have him wrapped around his finger all over again. (i love a villain who earnestly thinks they've gotten rid of feelings like that, casting aside vulnerability, but in reality there's still a part of them who really hasn't)

and johnny is, in fact, impressed in how he's changed, even if he thinks he could be a little more subtle in his methods. (i can imagine that's something they'd bicker over, of randall bringing back his spoils of victory but johnny wanting him to play it safe... even though, hey, he never gets caught, does he?!)

i really do think it's fun for him to be entertained/amused by having randall around, especially in a world where he's got to keep things a secret from most people in his life and keep things up on friendly terms first and foremost... randall gets to see a side of him that no one else gets to see — not even his family! sure, it was a lot easier back when randall was mild and eager to please, but, in a way, someone who could really bite back brings a bit of excitement to it all... who can tease him in return... y'know, i bet that's part of what makes johnny like claire, except with randall he can still always knock him down a peg if he needs to... and i'll get back to that in a second. the weird fondness that can arise from that shared company, that only they in this position can really have, the lines between being under his thumb and genuine compansionship blurring... is so good to me. even with how convoluted the plan was, they're a real power couple at the end of the day!

in a way, johnny needs randall more than randall needs johnny when it comes to accomplishing what they want... and outside of that is another story. if you think about it, johnny is a LOT more intertwined in randall's arc than randall is in johnny's, when during the recap of things, it was always a lot more about randall's side of it all. johnny could still easily move onto new endeavors, where everything that happened to randall involving RΩR has kind of changed the whole trajectory of his life. johnny could've not even met randall and probably would end up in a similar position as he is...

since, unfortunately... we do have all that about johnny's "fatal flaw". when johnny is the person he is, when randall is the person he is, there's always going to be something off here.

what johnny's looking for is a capable asset, and randall pulls through in that — he's a good henchman at the end of the day, as long as he's a good henchman at the end of the day. johnny's a star figure in randall's past, but randall's shoes could still be filled by anyone else who could do the job better. i do think there's something very transactional about how he goes about the given relationships we see, where he often places a value on people through what they can do for him and how he can use and manipulate them... and that very likely extends to randall, where he is definitely more invested in the personal aspects of it all than johnny is. i can imagine them both underestimating each other, where randall thinks he's capable of turning the tides at any right chance when all's said and done if he wants to (maybe even thinks he's gone a bit soft!) and johnny especially knows he calls the shots around here, with there still always being ways he sees him as the same young and impressionable guy as before...

after all, if randall were to get a redemption arc, he'd have to let go of his grudges, and let go of johnny and what he symbolizes for good... maybe even having tylor confront him and break it to randall that johnny doesn't — and never has — cared about him in the way he wants him to. there's a lot of ways they could still maybe play with that even without johnny actually in the picture, even though imagining otherwise is interesting, and i wish i got more time actually spent with them because if left to my own devices this is what starts happening to me...!

check out how johnny looks at randall when shows up though ⬇️

the claire affair

alright, just for fun and to close everything all off... you probably knew it was coming, but the idea of a sort of weird gay thing going on and/or affair situation between johnny and randall here is pretty funny. not as funny as tylor and johnny, and of course is not something that lasts, but what else do you think i was leading up to present here?

i do think that johnny loves claire, but you kind of have to speculate about them a little bit, y'know? in a narrative sense, i think he's married and has a family and all that in part to make him look better, as if to point at him and say, Look at this guy with his loving wife, maybe he really has changed if he's found someone he loves and she loves him back! Look! They've got a nice little family together! and yet, they do feel a bit thrown in there at random, and i hope claire has a presence at all next season, where we get to see how she reacts to and deals with everything, cus they're going to have to cover what happens to FearCo... or, i would hope so, anyway. (😳)

when it comes to johnny and claire, i like to think with johnny's way of interacting with the world, after everything, it's an attempt for him to be more in tune with these things and really, genuinely try (although maybe not even consciously) to be more Normal about it all... his vices slip through on occasion, but it is just enjoyment of companionship while he's navigating struggling with being genuine and letting walls down and all that, at least part of an attempt at being a better person in all those years of life going on as usual... and yet, when he's always keeping everyone at a distance, there's still just something kind of... intangibly missing in the end? even claire can't really place it, because in the end, everything really is normal enough to not think about it too hard at least. i can imagine he fell for her over the years, maybe after meeting again after college, they got hitched, and even though the honeymoon years were fun, in current times it's almost sort of going through the motions, in a way, for both of them, really. We don't need to think about it too hard, this is what we do, we are a Married Couple, we have a Normal life, i'm satisfied, aren't you satisfied, Claire? We get along, and we like each other, and its Good 👍 its Okay 👍 We are a Normal Family. (and if everything's a secret to them too, no doubt he still puts up a performance with them...)

and yet, she's got her kids at work and is always seen as a unit with them, and johnny's always busy, they're both always pretty busy, so who knows how much is delegated to her while he's also off scheming with randall in his little mancave or trying to win tylor over? i know i mentioned earlier that johnny is usually on a first name basis with people, and it seems to be a pretty intentional little detail that sticks out like a sore thumb with randall... and yet, we never actually see him call her by only her first name, either. the most we get out of him is "claire worthington", last name attached, and in public, it's always "mrs. worthington" even when he's just... chasing after her to go and talk to her like a normal person??? you would think his wife of all people would get a first name pass at least once, so it almost feels like an active reminder of how he's a Married Man under His Name...

and i think there's a very hilarious and potent concept in the fact that claire and randall are both snarky as hell, even having a very similar vocal inflection as their casual speaking voice, just a little drawn out... as well as her character being taken to utilize in monsters university led to her being described as "something of an achiever" herself. so considering what i said about someone who could bite back and tease him in return... i think the second you cross over into "reminds me of traits of my wife" territory with a new, exciting spin to take you away from it all, it's like... Over.

trying to figure out how something like that would spark and who initiated it is also interesting, and my bets are on randall. it was johnny who was sort of guiding him around in the college days, but randall, who's got reason to be a lot more invested in this, being the one to tempt him into that reflects in an interesting way with how they've changed... and i think it would be funny if it actually took a bit for randall to get him to crack, for him to even feel Guilty about it as a pinnacle of self control, but... all of this is already such a secret, and randall's already his little secret in more ways than one, so what's one more if no one finds out?

that's how he plays, isn't it...?

anyway they suck blowing them up forever and so on and so forth

#talk #movies #disney #monsters at work #randall boggs #monsters inc #SOMETHING CAME OVER ME OKAY #i'm probably gonna edit this later too for some alternative interpretations and like what else could be done with them in another world #i wanna do an analysis of how they write johnny's manipulation throughout the season because it's really well crafted and i love it #i gotta go and finish all my other shit though i've been slacking on having anything at all organized #back to the shuro essay... #actually i gotta like clean up everything around me first

[mrs-snape5984]

“There is no other love, it's only yours…”

“You're all I want, all I love…” (“You’re all I want” by Cigarettes after Sex)

Yesterday I had a really rough day. It didn’t just feel like one of my regular “PEM-Crash-Days” (PEM = post-exertional malaise = the worsening of symptoms after crossing the boundaries of my condition, due to my disease ME/CFS). The whole day was also coated in a thick layer of sadness and grief…an emotional turmoil, which I could only barely endure. Well…mixing these feelings with another wave of fever and pain, seasoned with the incapacity of tolerating screen time, adding the suffocating sensation of loneliness….et voilà! The perfect recipe for a day in hell was created! 🙄

In order to cope with my emotions, I found myself drowning in my fantasies of teenage Severus and my undeniably self-inserted OC Jules…rewriting one of their short fictional scenes. Again, Severus was tormented by his own insecurities, getting carried away in self-loathing. I don’t know, how many times I’ve already written scenes like these. Jules encourages Severus to stay resilient, praising him for all those traits, which he only identifies as his flaws and weaknesses. But for Jules, there’s so much beauty, so much strength in his imperfections. She’s making his blemishes look like the most loveable attributes of Severus’ personality with her passionate speech.

When I wrote this little scene, I recognised something: I already knew, that I’m identifying myself a lot with Severus…but Jules’ words of encouragement and consolation to her beloved friend Sevy…well, they’re are also things, I would crave to hear for myself (how pathetic, huh?!). But since I’m struggling immensely with the acceptance of my own insecurities and fears, I’m not able to reassure myself of my own worth. It’s just not on the table for me!

So…I’ll just keep on telling Severus in my stories, that he deserves nothing less than the whole world…and that Jules will always try to make him feel loved and cared for. She will never stop to compare his flaws with her own weaknesses by explaining to him, how perfectly they’re matching. Jules will never grow tired to assure Severus, that his cynicism is the perfect complement to her sense of sarcasm. For the Slytherin girl, it's a clear sign for Sevy’s extremely high intellect, which is also something, that she adores about her friend. In Jules’ eyes, his bitterness mirrors a form of hypersensitivity, a characteristic, which she knows so well from herself. That’s why she’s acting so empathetically with Severus, whenever he’s suffering with his life…and Jules is convinced, that sharing those feelings will make them less unbearable! The girl even praises Severus’ stubbornness by telling him, that she’s enjoying every good and intelligent argument with him to clear the air between them. All together, Severus’ imperfections are pure perfection to the hopelessly devoted (and obviously love-struck 😅) girl.

I’m aware of the overdramatic nature and the unnecessary fluffiness of my short stories, but that’s the reason, why I’m writing them for my eyes only. It’s my form of a coping mechanism…the only way of allowing myself some kind of self-assurance and comfort…through Severus!

Some time ago, I found an artist here on tumblr, who made me fall head over heels for her tender style of drawing my beloved dungeon bat. Especially an artwork of her interpretation of the younger Snape made my heart ache with longing for him, so of course, I just had to commission @pssherri for an illustration of Severus and my OC Jules in their teenage years.

Sonja, you did an amazing job with this project and I can’t express, how grateful I am for your kindness and the dedication to your profession! It was a pleasure to cooperate with you on this idea of mine and I hope, you’ll be open to work on more of my requests some day. Thank you for everything, my dear!

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

#Severus x Julia #Sevy x Jules #Severus x OC #fuck me/cfs #commissioning artwork is my goddamn coping mechanism #this is my red carpet for all the artists of snape fandom #i love severus #he’s by my side for 21 years now #21 years and still counting #i have a soft spot for young sevy #i have a soft spot for young severus #teen severus snape #severus snape #snape #i love snape #snape love #pro snape #i would protect him with my life #snape content #pro severus snape #severus snape art #snape art #snart #severus fanart #severus art #severus #i’d kill for him #i’d die for him #mecfs #writing is my coping mechanism

[aohisworld]

SAY A LITTLE PRAYER FOR YOU. | THE SERIES!

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ when things are a little too tame in Aohi’s world, she conspires to dote on her seven boyfriends. (A series!)

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ poly!ot7 x addedmember!oc , contains. cringe writing, fluff, like CAVITY SWEET fluff, some parts (excluding ri-ki) might be a LITTLE suggestive , keep in mind that this series takes place in the present, which puts Aohi at 20 years of age!

| : ̗̀➛ MINTIE’s NOTES: sorry about the no updates to either big fics guys TT school’s ending and I have to pass the diplomas before I actually get to graduate (grad ceremony was literally for show) so have this silly little series that I plan to do!

| : ̗̀➛ WARNING! How I write ENHYPEN is not meant to portray the idols irl, this is my au and I write this for fun.

✧. ┊ “Noo-noo-ah!” Aohi softly called, her arms opening for the boy who was approaching her bed with a pep in his step. “Tokki-yah!” Sunoo replied back, gently kissing her nose as the two smiled and giggles.

“What’s up, oppa?” Aohi asked, gently rubbing her hand up and down on his back. Usually, Sunoo loved to come into Aohi’s room and lay on top of her, the boys actually shared that habit together, coming in her separate room to bother her whenever they wanted.

“Nothing, what’re you doing?..” Sunoo’s muffled voice from him tucking his head into Aohi’s neck spoke, peeking from whatever line of sight he could achieve from the intimate cuddle.

“I’m just watching whatever, you want to watch with me?” She asks, looking down slightly to try and establish eye contact with the puffy-cheeked fox.

“No, just came to check in on you.” Sunoo hummed, he sits up from his spot and grabs hold of Aohi’s own cheeks, dipping down for a sloppy kiss as her muffled giggles started to resonate within the room.

“Owp-pwa!” A muffled attempt was heard, Sunoo tried his best not to laugh, pulling away with a dramatic ‘smooch!’ Sound coming from his own lips.

Aohi’s laughs became clearer as Sunoo pulled away, and he could feel a gentle tug at his heart the way Aohi’s big smile appears in his line of sight.

“Come out for dinner soon, Jay-hyung said you haven’t eaten lunch yet.” Sunoo reminds her, getting off Aohi’s bed and walking to the door. He turns to look at Aohi one more time, making sure he’s heard.

“Eung! I’ll come soon, oppa!” Aohi spoke, turning in her bed as she wiped her cheek of any saliva that didn’t dry out.

Not that it didn’t disgust her that the boys leave sloppy kisses but, Aohi just thinks that’s how intimacy goes, kind of like how cats rub up on anything and everything to mark their territory.

Actually, Aohi has no idea why she’s comparing those two things with each other.

She continued to watch her YouTube videos a little longer, having a deep interest in hour-long documentaries that spoke about anything of the horror genre.

Aohi wasn’t a big fan of horror though, but there’s something funny about having an excuse to sleep in one of boys’ rooms, and usually Jay or Heeseung can’t bother to say no to her.

“Aohi-yah! Dinner’s ready!” Sunghoon’s voice called for her, and she sighs knowing she actually has to go this time. “Coming!” Aohi sits up from her bed and places her feet into bat slippers gifted to her by Jake.

Aohi wiggles her feet for a little bit, smiling at the fluffy feeling on her feet. She leaves her room with a hop in her step, walking into the open-plan kitchen with a sleepy smile.

“What’s for dinner, oppa?” Aohi looked over Jay’s shoulder, looking into the pot of kimchi-jjigae he made. “I felt a little lazy today, I hope you don’t mind, batsy.” Jay turned to her, and he kissed Aohi’s temple.

“Eung~” Aohi hummed understandingly, before walking off to go sit with her other boyfriends. “Hi baby, did you have a good nap earlier?” Heeseung pulled his gaze away from his phone, looking up at Aohi with his gentle Bambi gaze.

“Mhm! Speaking of which, can I sleep with one of you guys tonight?” She sat in her seat, and her legs made quick work of sitting criss cross on the seat.

“I don’t get why you do that, it’s so weird.” Sunoo mumbled jokingly beside her, obviously mentioning her instinct to sit weirdly on her chair.

“It’s a habit! Don’t you know my cousins in the Philippines do it all the time!” Aohi scrunched her nose back at Sunoo, who couldn’t help but smile at her adorable expression.

“You can sleep with me, bunny.” Sunghoon offered, placing his hand on her head affectionately, Aohi happily cherishing his attention.

“Like hell! You’ve been snuggling with her more than enough! She’s with me tonight!” Ri-ki huffed, pulling Aohi to his side.

Aohi felt her heart warm a little that her boys were so wanting to spend time with her, even if it’s just for the night. “Why don’t you guys let her decide? She’s the one who wants to sleep somewhere else for the night.” Jungwon hummed, his gaze on his phone.

“Wonnie, do you want to, tonight?” Aohi asked, looking towards him, in which he glanced up in response, and she could easily tell the way his eyes lit up that there was no way he was denying her offer.

“Yeah!” The other boys at the table groaned and complained, and Jungwon could only smile smugly. Soon enough the boys stopped messing around, Aohi sensing Jay’s presence with the smell of kimchi-jjigae filling her nostrils.

“Wah! It smells delicious, oppa.” Aohi’s eyes sparkled at the sight of Jay’s cooking, channeling her inner foodie as she was getting ready to dig in.

“Did I make you wait too long, batsy?” — “no, but the other people at the table waited too long.”

Sunoo answered smartly, looking up at Jay with a look that pulled a sheepish grin from the cook. Sunoo sat up on his seat as Jay placed the pot onto the coaster, the steam letting out a spicy aroma in the room.

“I’m going to eat well..” Aohi made a gesture before picking up her chopsticks, waiting for Heeseung to get his first bite, and then Jay.. and then Jake, and you get the rest.

Aohi took her bite soon after everyone else had, smiling as she ate, loving the domesticity of dinner tonight. She really felt like doting on her boyfriends for being so doting on her as well.

Like, maybe she should return the kindness! She looked around her for a little bit more before continuing to eat her meal silently, but happily. Aohi had a plan…

It was operation: dote on the en- boys!

OBJECTIVE #1: YANG JUNGWON!

"what're you doing here, little bunny? Not up to some trouble, I hope."

mission in progress! [possible completion: June 19th].

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ ┊Jungwon has been a lot busier promoting their new album, memorabilia. Aohi can't remember the last time she's got the time to even look at her boyfriend! Not that the whole group wasn't promoting or anything... but she really misses one of her two feline boyfriends!

This calls for a little Aohi TLC, which is exactly what she's planning to do during a surprise visit before an interview!

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ yang jungwon x addedmember!oc , contains. mentions of poly!ot7 x oc, cringe writing, fluff, a tiny bit of suggestive themes (honestly it's just kissing).

OBJECTIVE #2: LEE HEESEUNG!

"I'm just playing for another hour! You can wait, right, batsy?"

mission in progress! [possible completion: June 29th].

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ ┊ It's been a little too quiet at the apartment for Aohi's liking, understandably the boys might be recharging from doing so many promotions, but Aohi's just a girl! She needs her daily attention like her naps, and she's going to get them!

Her next victim? Lee Heeseung, Aohi knows nobody can tear the boy away from his beloved game, League of Legends. Aohi thinks she should still try though! No harm in trying!

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ lee heeseung x addedmember!oc , contains. mentions of poly!ot7 x oc, cringe writing, fluff, a tiny bit of suggestive themes, a lot of gaming vocabulary.

OBJECTIVE #3: PARK JJONGSEONG!

“You know you're the only one I'm willing to spoil, right?”

mission in progress! [possible completion: July 9th].

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ ┊ Aohi's taken a small break on doting on her boyfriends, her current schedule was taking her out and Jay seems to be able to tell, so.. instead of Aohi carrying out her doting missions, Jay beats her to it by taking her out for a little spoiling.

Don't fear though, it's not a mission if Aohi doesn't dote on him back! Luckily, she knows just the thing that'll do the trick!

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ park jjonseong (jay) x addedmember!oc , contains. mentions of poly!ot7 x oc, cringe writing, fluff, a lot of spoiling, erm... idk my draft doesn't really have anything to make note of LOL.

OBJECTIVE #4: SIM JAEYUN!

"I wouldn't let anyone else take care of Layla, batsy.. you're her mama, and I sure as hell won't let you go!"

mission in progress! [possible completion: July 19th].

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ ┊ There's nothing better than a boyfriend and his cute as heck dog, named Layla! Ever since Aohi started to date Jake, she's been referred as Layla's mama, and the dog seems to agree, and what kind of mom would she be if she didn't spoil Layla and her dad?

A little hike on her's and Jake's favourite trail to relax and get some exercise in, while Layla gets to spend the whole day with her parents!

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ sim jaeyun (jake) x addedmember!oc , contains. mentions of poly!ot7 x oc, cringe writing, fluff, a lot of cringe name calling?? Idk I drafted a really dorky Jake.. Layla blocking Jake from Aohi LOL.

OBJECTIVE #5: PARK SUNGHOON!

"You sure do slip a lot.. is it because you're you falling for me, batsy? Ow! It was a joke, babe!"

mission in progress! [possible completion: July 29th].

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ ┊ The summer heat was too much for the en- group to handle! With the other boys and Xiulin going out for cold treats, Aohi and Sunghoon opt for the ice skating rink. Aohi uses this to her advantage by using this time alone with her boyfriend to dote on him!

Only... how can she dote on him when he keeps cracking the most lamest jokes?! Aohi thinks she's going to break from one more dad joke!

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ park sunghoon x addedmember!oc , contains. mentions of poly!ot7 x oc, cringe writing, fluff, lame dad jokes, as in, googled dad jokes, a little bit of suggestive themes at the end. skating vocabulary.

OBJECTIVE #6: KIM SUNOO!

"You always dote on me, tokki.. please let me return the favour, pretty girl."

mission in progress! [possible completion: August 9th].

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ ┊ Kim Sunoo, Aohi's favourite to dote on. Well, he knows that for sure, considering he manages to catches Aohi before she could even plan on a way to dote on him! Sunoo wants to give back all of the love she's given him, knowing that she must be tired on loving seven, such rowdy boys.

Sunoo plans his own little mission when he and Aohi are chosen as ambassadors for Vivienne Westwood, and brought to Milan for a photoshoot.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ kim sunoo x addedmember!oc , contains. mentions of poly!ot7 x oc, cringe writing, fluff, modelling mentions, sunoo is not an actual ambassador for viv westwood!! A little bit of suggestive themes.

OBJECTIVE #7: NISHIMURA RI-KI!

"Did you plan this whole trip back home just to spend time with me? Aren't you adorable, batsy."

mission in progress! [possible completion: August 19th].

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ ┊ Aohi was feeling a little homesick, and what's a better way to spend a little home vacation if not with her boyfriend, who probably misses Japan as much as she does? Aohi makes the smartest idea to dote on Ri-ki during their trip, equipped with her credit card and an extra piece of luggage for any souvenirs to take home.

Ri-ki acts oblivious to her plans though, after living with Aohi for so long, he's made the conclusion that an excited Aohi cannot keep anything to herself for the life of her. Therefore, Ri-ki has plans to reverse the roles on Aohi, doting on her instead.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ nishimura ri-ki x addedmember!oc , contains. mentions of poly!ot7 x oc, cringe writing, fluff, a little travel trip to Japan, tiny bit self-indulgent because they're going through my travel plans LMAO.

#˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑰𝑺 𝑨𝑶𝑯𝑰! #enhypen #enhypen 8th member #enhypen addition #enhypen au #enhypen added member #enhypen ot7 #kpop oc #kpop added member #kpop addition #enhypen fic #enhypen x oc #enhypen x fem oc