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#i wanted to start a fight over this so bad but I knew it would upset me
and-so-he-rambled · 2 days
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Costume
(Gotham Rogue Vlad Masters)
Masterlist
“You’re going to fight Batman?” Daniel’s curious eyes peeked over the table, watching Vlad feed material into the sewing machine.
“Not exactly, I’m planning to avoid him as much as possible, but I’m sure we will cross paths.”
“Are you going to fight him with your superpowers?”
“No, remember how no one can find out we’re special? Not even Batman, he’d turn us in to the bad men.”
“Oh.” Daniel continued to watch him as he cut and arranged black material. He’d gone light on any body armour since he didn’t need it and needed the extra movement. He did have some for appearances and in case his powers still were on the fritz by the time he went out. He was getting better with time, but it wasn’t perfect.
“You should be a Badger.”
Vlad paused, looking at the child.
“Pardon?”
“A badger! Wait here!” The boy ran off, leaving Vlad staring after him.
He returned with his animal encyclopedia, plopping in on the table and pointing to a honey badger.
“You call me little badger and so Jazz showed me, I’m this one.” He pointed to the badger on the next page, a European badger. “But these ones are called Honey Badgers and they’re really cool and mean, and you should be one like Catwoman is a cat.”
Vlad thought that over. It did seem on brand for a Gotham rogue to have a theme, and while he was only planning on petty thievery it couldn’t hurt. He had gone more for the vampire look once his fangs had grown in but a badger was different enough that nobody would connect the two identities.
“I’m not calling myself Badgerman.” Daniel giggled at that, delighted. “Perhaps you’re on to something though.”
“Would you help me pick a design? I just can’t choose myself.”
Daniel’s eyes lit up in joy as he ran away to go find his drawing pad.
Jazz and Daniel worked together for the next few hours, his sister keeping him from making it too complicated. They ended up with a catsuit with a gray stripe down the back with lots of secret pockets and zippers. The mask he had to make a few alterations on, but it had a more American badger design with white down the center of the face and up the cheeks, leaving two stripes of black over his eyes. Jazz vetoed the full cape, with both Vlad and Danny complained about, but he managed to sell her on the shoulder cape.
“I can’t believe I’m going to become a two bit criminal for a giant bat.” Vlad murmered at he started in on his sixth hour of costume creation. He’d cheated with being able to change his ghost clothing at will after a few years of trial and error, this was hard. “I was supposed to be a scientist.”
Jazz was face down on the table, but she raised an arm to synthetically pat at him.
“Th’ goal is t’ avoid th’ bat.” She reminded him sleepily before falling back alseep. He took a break to bring her to bed.
The first goal when they got a payout was to get an apartment with their new identities. As much as he wanted them to stay ghosts it wasn’t feasible for the kids. They needed lives, to be children. Daniel was getting better control of his powers with daily training and eventually he might be able to go to school.
Vlad knew they couldn’t stay in Gotham forever, that once day the government would catch up to them and they’d have to disappear again, he was pretty Jazz knew it too. He needed to give them something before that happened. This time he’d spread the money into off shore accounts, they’d never be left with nothing again.
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trippinsorrows · 3 days
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with me + part 4
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authors note: the love and response to this story continues to absolutely floor me. you guys are all so sweet! i was nervous about posting, but everyone has made me feel so happy that i did, so thank you!
couple of hints about things sprinkled through this one. the more i write, the more things are getting fleshed out, so idk how many parts this will be atp, nothing too crazy though!!!
also, some tags don't seem to work for some reason, like when i type it, the hyperlink doesn't appear so super sorry to those impacted by that!!!
warnings: angst, fluff, language, suggestive content
song inspo: with me by destiny’s child
word count: 5.8k
taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion @shayaaaaaaa @usoholic @brokenglassslippers @gators-aid @dersha89 @southerngirl41 @empressdede
You couldn't eat. 
Couldn't sleep.
Could barely think straight.
All that consumed you, ate at you, gnawed at your sanity was one thought and one thought alone.
He wanted to take her from you. 
Joe wanted to take your daughter from you, your four year old daughter who still couldn't even go to sleep at night unless she got to see or speak to you.
The daughter who he'd only known existed just recently but was seemingly set on ripping away from you.
That thought destroyed you, made you raw from blistering agony at just the idea of not having Callie with you full time. It destroyed you to the point that you decided to throw some clothes on, hop in your car, and set your google maps for the hotel you knew he’d be staying at. Damn the fact that it was the middle of the night or that you were stupid as hell for being in that situation in the first place. None of that mattered. 
You needed to talk to him, and you needed to talk to him now. 
Joe opens the door with a forceful swing, looking as irritated and disheveled as you’d expect one to look at nearly 1am in the morning. However, when his eyes land on you, confusion meshes with irritation. “Y/N?”
“Hi.” It’s said in a breathy tone. You're struggling to remember the script you rehearsed the whole drive there. “I’m sorry. I know it’s late—”
“What the..….” He sighs heavily and steps aside, motioning for you to come in. “Get in here.”
You don’t need to be told twice, looking around the hotel room that looks so plain and undeserving of someone with Joe’s stature. But, you also know this area isn’t exactly saturated with 5 star hotels, far from it. This is probably the most elite one he could find with such short notice, and it’s not bad at all, just….basic.
He clears his throat, and you return your attention to the man who you just realized is also shirtless. If not for the pending mental breakdown you’re fighting to keep at bay, it would be extremely distracting. Joe is a lot of things, and fine as hell is at the top of that list.
“What are you doing here, Y/N?” He sounds exhausted, and you can’t tell if it’s from the argument earlier that day or being woken up in the middle of the night. Probably both. 
“I just—I need to talk to you.”
“Now?” 
Nodding, you continue. “I know….I know I messed up, okay? I should have told you, but I just—I need you to look at it from my perspective. I need you to just hear me out, and if—if you still feel the same way, then–then I’ll have to deal with that….but please.” 
He’s leaning back against the dresser, arms crossed, taking time to answer as he weighs your offer. Finally, he concedes, “you came all the way over here. I’m not just gonna send you away.”
You’re thankful for him being willing to at least hear some of what you have to say. “Callie.....she was conceived the last time we were together.” Not sure if that part was necessary or the best way to start out, you quickly move on to the next point. “I didn’t find out I was pregnant until two months later. And on top of not knowing what the fuck to feel, I barely knew what to do. I was pregnant by a married man that I’d been sleeping with for three years. A married, famous man at that. Who I finally decided I needed to move on from.” 
Revisiting this is harder than you expected, harder than when you rehearsed it on your drive here. “I was scared, Joe, okay? I was scared, so I—I did what I thought was best at that time, and clearly it was wrong. I 100% own up to that, and you get to be angry with me, but you don’t get to let that anger influence your decision making, because it is.” 
This is the part you debated so deeply on whether to say or not say, to potentially poke the already irate bear. But, you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t speak up for yourself and your daughter. “You want a legal custody arrangement, and I understand why, but—Joe, your name isn’t even on her birth certificate, but to tell you the truth…..I wanted it to be. I did.” Whether he believes you or not is on him, but it’s true. Because while he wasn't present in her life, he was still her father. Nothing would change that. “They wouldn’t do it without you present and without a paternity test—”
“I could have been there,” he interrupts, sounding more hurt than anything. “I should have been there.” 
“You’re right, but you weren’t, and I’m sorry for that too. I’m not trying to make any excuses here, just lay out facts. And the fact is that you can get a paternity test, you can establish paternity, and you can try to secure joint custody, but we both know there’s no way you can take her on. You work nonstop, Joe, and she can’t be on the road like that. She’s four for fucks sake. Calista needs stability, and she has that with me. You know I’m right.”
And you can see that he sees you’re right, the wheels turning in his head as he takes in your sound predictions.
“And I know you don’t right now, and that’s okay, but I am asking you to please trust me enough to know that I will not get in the way of you getting to know Calista. Trust that I only want what’s best for her, I’ve only ever wanted what was best for her.”
“Why should I?” Despite his words, you can see and hear the crumbling of his defenses, of the brick and mortar wall he'd erected earlier during the first round of this conversation. “What’s different now?”
“Because she asked about you.” This is the part that crushes you the most, that makes you wonder if you’ll ever be able to forgive yourself for even putting her in that situation. “Because she thinks you’re not in her life because she’s not a good girl, and I will not have my child grow up thinking she wasn’t good enough for her father to want to be in her life.”
You won’t let her grow up like you.
Period.
Having this discussion, saying these things aloud, you’re slowly starting to recognize how some of your own unaddressed issues have contributed to this situation. How your refusal to confront buried trauma has bled into another generation. It’s…..uncomfortable, to say the least.
And something you definitely need to revisit, probably sooner rather than later. Just…not right now. 
You’ve got to sort this through first.
It’s after a few minutes of silence that he finally speaks, voice surprisingly calm. “You’re right.” You let out a deep breath, nearly falling back at his words. You knew he was wavering but not to the point where he would yield. “I know….I know our situation is complicated, and I’m sorry for being so cold with you. I just—fuck, I don’t know how to process all of this.”
You cross your arms over your chest. “Neither do I, but we can figure it out, because we can’t…..we can’t put her through a custody battle. I won’t do that.” Despite your very valid facts, you also recognize that while he probably wouldn’t win, he has access to the best legal team money can buy and would outlast you in court by miles. 
You won’t say it aloud, not even sure if you can, but you’d soon rather concede than put her through that. You’d give him whatever he asked for if it meant sparing her from that trauma. 
It’s a far cry from your stance hours earlier, but time and actually thinking things through made you realize the pain you’d experience at having Callie taken from you would be nothing compared to what that experience would do to her. You know custody disputes can be long and nasty, and though she was still young, you didn’t want to find out if they would question her. 
You’d sacrifice your soul and surrender. 
You loved her enough to let her go.
“You’re right.” He repeats himself, even and calm. It’s such a stark difference for both of you compared to the blowup from earlier. There’s actual communication occurring, talking with each other, instead of at each other. Listening to hear, not to react. “I—I couldn’t do that to you. I spoke out of anger. My schedule is crazy and she needs stability. You give her that.”
There’s an insurmountable amount of relief that washes over you at his words. It’s night and day from the angry—though rightfully—man that stood before you earlier today. And you couldn’t be more grateful. 
“Thank you.” There aren’t enough words to adequately express the depth of your gratitude. Joe is well within his right to be upset, and like you said, you’ll take whatever that is, so long as the both of you can agree that Callie being with you is for the best. For her, but for you too. You won’t deny that. Your daughter is your life, and the thought of being without her, even for a period of time makes you sick to your stomach. “I–” You wipe your eyes, completely unaware that you’d been crying at one point, the tears starting to dry up. “I’m taking off work tomorrow and keeping her home. You…you can come over once I pick her up from Mariah's."
His eyes light up with appreciation that matches your own for his willingness to look past his feelings to do what’s best for your child. “Yeah?”
You offer a small smile. “I’ll probably get her around 10 and text you when you can head over.”
He nods, and the excitement in his expression warms you. It’s so strange how you can go through so many emotions in such a short time regarding the man in front of you. He always has been able to evoke things out of you that no one else could.
“Thank you, Y/N.”
The way he takes you in, assessing you, it makes you shift your weight from one foot to another. Your hoodie suddenly feels too heavy, warmth climbing up to your cheeks. “I—” You gesture to the door with your thumb. “I should head out.” 
It’s when you turn to leave that he grabs your wrist to stop you. 
“Where are you going?”
Your brow lifts at his tone and words, confused by the quick change and his hand on your arm. “Umm, home?” 
“Like hell you are.” His dismissal is firm and final as he informs, “you'll crash here tonight.” Your face must be painted in defiance, because he explains, “it's almost 2 in the morning, and you look exhausted. I'm not letting you get on the road. Anything could happen.”
“Joe—”
He lifts his hand, silencing you as he points to the middle of the room. “You can take the bed. It's uncomfortable anyway.”
Ironically, a small yawn escapes, further proving his point. You are exhausted, in several different ways. The idea of driving back home right now is not nearly as appealing as sleeping off the day's events. “Okay.” Remembering his comment, you add, “you could have picked one of those fancy hotels ya'll stay in, you know.”
“I don't think there's anything ‘fancy’ within 30 miles of here.” He's not entirely wrong, the town's local steakhouse is considered the definition of fine dining and hotspot for special occasions. 
“There were once rumors of a Hilton being built.”
He looks almost hopeful. “When was that?”
You bite down on your lip. “When I was in middle school.” A small laugh escapes at his look of exasperation. 
“You should take the bed. It's gotta be more comfortable than the alternative.” Truly, because the idea of Joe's big ass trying to sleep on a damn fold out sofa is both hilarious and tragic. “I just need a shirt.”
He looks at you. “A shirt?”
“Yeah.”
“Because…..”
Rolling your eyes, you tug at your old college hoodie. “I can't sleep in this. It's uncomfortable as hell. I dress light at night. You know—” And you stop yourself, because he shouldn’t remember that you always sleep in either a big shirt or thin top and shorts, never more, oftentimes nothing at all when he was in town.
For obvious reasons.
You’re grateful when he turns away and digs through his bag, probably the only one he took with him. He always traveled lightly. He comes back, reaching you one of his black t-shirts. 
“Thanks.” Accepting the item, you walk over to the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Standing in the mirror, you take in your appearance. Joe was being nice by saying you look exhausted, cause you look like shit, every bit of the days events, loud and blaring. Blowing out a breath, you start removing your clothes but pause when you go to remove your bra.
Is that….is that too much? You haven’t slept in a bra in years. Not since puberty randomly hit you over the summer between freshman and sophomore year, where you went from a modest A cup to a whopping D. And post Callie body definitely wasn’t a D anymore. It just seems….it seems indecorous. 
Deciding to go with safe instead of sorry, you swallow your discomfort and keep your bra on. With the hair tie on your wrist, you do your best to pineapple your hair, knowing good and well it’ll be frizzfest when you wake up but not really caring. 
Another yawn leaves your mouth as you walk out the bathroom only to turn into a scowl as you find Joe sitting on the sofa on his phone.
If it wasn’t so late and you weren’t so tired, you’d argue with him why it’s stupid of you to take the bed. He’s at least a foot taller than you. But, you don’t have it in you so just mutter “stubborn asshole,” place your folded clothes on the dresser, and climb into the bed. 
You double check your alarm is still set for the right time and lean across the bed to place it on the nightstand. There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you for a couple of minutes, your eyes closing as you try to sleep, even if for a couple of hours before you have to get back on the road. 
“What is she like?”
Your eyes open at his question, unexpected but understood. You think about it, wondering how to answer, how to explain all of the wonderful things that is your child. Finally, you settle on an answer, soft and honest. 
“You'll find out for yourself tomorrow.” And turning on your side, you murmur, “goodnight, Joe.”
He doesn’t say anything after that.
But while you sleep with the hope of believing that this can be worked out between the two of you, Joe lies awake, taking his turn with mind running a mile a minute.
He knew this would be difficult, knew it was going to get ugly to some extent, but what he didn’t expect was how impacted he'd be by seeing you again.
There was a stark difference between seeing you in photos and seeing you in person. His anger at the situation helped him to not react as strongly, but not as much as he liked or needed it to.
Because regardless of all his outrage, he’d missed you.
Even with your deception, with your deceit and all of his confusing emotions toward you in this whole situation, he missed you. 
Joe might not be ready to admit it aloud, but he’s never gotten over you. And not for lack of trying. He’d had a period where he tried to fuck away his feelings, tried to busy himself in between the legs of other women, his favorite distraction when he was in his twenties. Tried to remind himself that it was never meant to turn into anything anyway, that it wasn’t a big deal. But his efforts were fruitless and a waste of time.
He cared about you, he cared about you, arguably, more than he’d ever cared about a woman. Even….even Jadah.
The night you ended things was still a sore spot for him, still something he plays over in his head trying to make sense of. On the surface level, it’s pretty plain and simple. You wanted more, he couldn’t give it to you, so you moved on. 1+1. He was legally married for fucks sake. He couldn’t blame you for wanting more, but there was also a part of him that wondered why you didn’t just ask him for more.
Then again, that went both ways. Why didn’t he ask you for more?
It’s easy to say it was because of Jadah, because of his marriage, and that was both true and untrue. On his part, anyway. Divorce was easy in name but far from it in every other area. And for him, meant being forced to confront demons he tried his best to keep at bay. Up until two months ago, at least
Joe closes his eyes. This is all too much. 
He came here ready to confront you, and he had, in fucked up way, even if partially deserved. He came here to meet his daughter, to begin to form a bond with her, and he will do that. He just has to push the complicated feelings for you to the side and place them on the backburner until he can sort through that mess.
Calista is his priority right now. Whatever this is between you and him can be figured out later.
Hopefully. 
________
“She can be shy until she gets to know you.”
The day seems to have escaped you, getting on the road early in the morning to drive back and prepare to pick up Callie. She’s thrilled to see you, and vice versa. The two of you spend the beginning of the morning together, stopping at a local diner to share a breakfast before heading back to your apartment. You spend a little more time together, one on one, before texting Joe to head over, staying true to your word. 
Especially since he informed you that he had to fly out tomorrow morning. You expected as such, knowing he’d probably already been gone longer than higher ups liked. He could only push the limits so much. 
You don’t even have to be looking at him to know he’s nervous, an understandable but strange thing. Weird almost. Joe’s a lot of things, but nervous has never been one of them. “But once she gets comfortable, she won’t shut up.” That makes him smile, and you’re grateful for that.  Sure enough, you find Callie in her playroom, which used to be your office space, but the more spoiled she became from your mom, the more you realized her room was too small for all of her stuff. “Hey, Callie Bear.”
Callie looks up, smile bright as she runs over to you. You lean down to meet her hug. She gives the best, loving hugs. “I’m making you something, mommy.”
You gasp. “You are? Well, I can’t wait to see it.”
“It’s a surprise, so no peeking!” She lifts her little finger, wagging it in your face. Laughing, you nod and push back some of her curls. Callie’s eyes then land on Joe’s massive frame standing near the doorway, silently observing. You can see the emotions so clearly on his face: surprise, shock, happiness.
Callie’s smile dims as she moves closer to you, holding you close, her stranger danger kicking in. A small part of you is grateful that even at almost five, she knows to be cautious. Then there’s the other part of you that’s saddened at the fact that the “stranger” she’s cautious of is her own father. “Baby, this is….this is….”
“I’m Joe,” he finishes for you, and you’re both grateful and annoyed. Conflicted because a small part of you wanted to be the one to tell her, but also grateful he ironically took that responsibility off of you. “I’m an old friend of your mom’s.”
Welp.
That’s not….that’s not what you expected him to say, not what you two discussed. It wasn’t explicitly stated, but you were under the impression that they would tell her the truth. His statement isn’t exactly a lie, you did once consider Joe to be a friend, much more than that, but still. Joe’s role in Callie’s life is significantly more than that. 
This seems to ebb away some of Callie’s caution as she asks, “really?” Her eyes fall on you, almost looking for approval. With a tight smile, you nod, giving her the relief she needs to loosen her hold on you. “Do you like Disney?” That causes you to genuinely laugh, something your sweet child definitely inherited from both you and your mom was a love of Disney. 
“I do,” he answers, and you pause. Does he really? Perhaps. Regardless, it’s a smart answer for your Disney loving child. “Do you?”
Callie nods happily, grabbing your arm and twisting it to show the ‘remember who you are’ tattoo on your wrist. “Mommy and grandma have Disney tattoos, and mommy’s gonna get a Moana one for me!”
“Really?” Joe, now crouched down to be at her eye level, sounds genuinely interested, and maybe he is. Callie is impressively charismatic at only four. She’s also his daughter who he’s wanting to develop a relationship with, so it’s not far-fetched that she could be talking to him about the rate at which grass grows, and he would entertain it like he was watching a 49ers game. “You like Moana?”
Is water wet? “She’s the bestest! Right, mommy?” 
You chuckle, fixing her shirt. “She watches it almost every day.” You always found it interesting, ironic even, that your daughter instantly gravitated to Moana, unaware that the voice of freaking Maui is her cousin, that she too had pacific islander ancestry. Through her dad. The dad you kept from her. 
“You know I don’t know if I’ve seen that one—”
Callie’s mouth drops open as she looks at you, “mommy, can we watch it? Please? Please? Pleeeeaaassseeee?”
“Okay, okay, okay,” you relent after pretending to think about it. You like to limit her screentime to two hours, and even though she already watched The Princess and the Frog earlier for the 97th time this month, there was no way you were not gonna allow this bonding opportunity. 
Squealing, Callie surprises you by breaking away and moving over to Joe, reaching for his hand. “Let’s go, Joe!” She pulls on the sleeve of his hoodie, probably to lead him into the living room where Disney Plus is signed in. 
Alone in her playroom, you run over what just happened. You thought you would tell her the truth, tell her that this is the father she was asking about, the one she thought didn’t want her when in actuality, he wanted to know everything there was to know about her.
And for a second, you get pissed off. Why wasn’t Joe honest with her? Isn’t this what he wanted? To be in her life. It’s confusing. He is confusing. But….you try to give him the benefit of the doubt, certain that he must have some reason behind his actions. You just hope they’re damn good reasons.
“Mommy!” You know that tone of hers, the tone that tells you a request is to follow. 
You shout back, “yes?”
“Joe likes popcorn too! Can we have some?”
You laugh and shake your head, shouting out an ‘okay’. Walking out of the room and into the living room, you find Callie near the TV, arm outstretched as she explains every detail of Moana, even the most obvious ones. But, Joe is sitting on the sofa, watching and listening intently. His smile is stapled. 
He looks…..he looks so happy.
Moving into the kitchen, you move around quietly to not interrupt and to get their popcorn made.
Waiting for the popcorn to finish, you hear Callie ‘whisper’ to Joe, “Mommy can’t cook, but she makes good snacks.”
Amid his laughter, you walk near the living room, hands on her hips. “I heard that, little ms. ma’am.”
“That’s what Grandma says,” Callie defends with a shrug of her little shoulders. “She says mommy is pretty and smart and funny, but she burns water.” She looks off, confused, as if it’s finally registering to her that that doesn’t make sense. “Mommy, how do you burn water?”
Joe is on the sofa, hand over his mouth, fighting for his life. You also can’t help but laugh at the absolutely serious look on her face. “Finish your movie.” 
The microwave dings, so you grab two bowls and fill them up equally. Delivering them to both, you place hers on the coffee table as she’s back to narrating. “Popcorn, as requested.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes go wide with excitement as she suddenly asks, “will you watch it with us?”
Damn. You had a feeling she would ask but was hoping she wouldn’t. Disappointing her twice in one weekend felt criminal. “Callie, I'm super behind with work.”
“Pleeeeasssseeee.” She starts with the begging again and then looks at Joe to inform him, “mommy’s a teacher. Do you have a job?”
Joe chuckles. “I do.”
“What do you do?” She asks in a sing-song tone. You give him that ‘I told you she never shuts up’ look. 
“I’m a professional wrestler.”
She’s clearly intrigued, asking, “are you actually good?”
“Callie!” This little girl and her lack of filter sometimes never ceases to amaze you. Your mom swears up and down it’s your payback from how blunt you were as a child. 
You’re starting to believe it.
Joe gives a shrug, clearly loving every bit of this. You can tell he wants her to keep the questions coming. He’ll answer em’ all if it means getting to spend time with her. “I’m alright.”
At that, you give him a look and crouch down to her level. “He’s very good.” You take the remote and quickly pause the TV, adding on, “matter of fact, he’s the universal undisputed champion.” Joe gives you a look, and you can tell he’s surprised by you knowing this piece of information.
You don’t watch wrestling as much as you used to, partially due to what happened between the two of you, mostly because you don’t have the time, but even non-wrestling people know about Roman Reigns and his current, historic title reign. You’re not sure if you’d feel entirely comfortable saying it to him, but you’re massively proud of Joe and all he’s accomplished. You always knew he could do it.
Her eyes widen with excitement and curiosity as she looks at Joe for clarification. “Really?”
“That is true.” 
Head tilted, she moves away from you and climbs on the sofa to sit next to him. Her little legs crossed over as she continues with the questions. “What does undis—undis—”
He helps her out, also angling his body more toward her. “Undisputed?” 
“Yeah! What does that mean?”
You can see he’s taking a minute to decide how to answer. “It means I don’t lose. Ever.”
“Whoooaaaa,” she breathes, obviously impressed. “You must eat a lot of veggies. I don’t like them, but mommy says they make you big and strong.”
“Your mom is right,” he agrees and looks her over. “You’re a very smart little girl. How old are you again? Like 15?”
“No, I’m four!” She giggles and lifts up four fingers. “But, I’ll be five on May 19th!”
His gaze softens. “Your birthday is in May?” She nods, happily. His smile is warm, emotional. “So is mine.”
You still for a moment. You hadn’t even thought about that, that her birthday was just days away from his. There’s something strangely sweet and moving about this fact, both to you and definitely to him.
“Really?” 
And that’s how it plays out for the rest of the day, a combination of Callie’s incessant questions, intermittent viewing of Moana and parts of Encanto. Lunch and dinner sprinkled somewhere in between. You’re even able to sneak off to do your lesson planning, Callie more than fine with just Joe to entertain her.
It warms your heart to see them connect almost instantaneously.
It’s why you wait as long as you can to interrupt, never wanting to do so, to invade their moment. But, you also know your daughter, know that she needs a certain amount of sleep to function the next day. And when you check in on them and catch her yawning, you know it’s unfortunately that time.
Sighing, you enter the living room with your arms crossed. “Callie Bear, it’s time to start getting ready for bed, mamas.”
“Nooo.” She whines. “I’m not tired.” Her groggy voice and scowl would indicate otherwise. 
“Of course, you’re not.” You bend down in front of her and reach for her hand. “Come on, we gotta tell Joe bye. He’s gotta get back to his hotel.” Despite her obvious objections, she climbs off the sofa and accepts your hand but not before looking at him. 
“Will you come over again tomorrow?” She asks with hopeful eyes and a voice of excitement, both things that make being honest with her that much harder.
He obviously doesn’t want to give her the truth, but it’s better than the alternative. With a frown, he answers, “I wish….but I’ve gotta get back to work tomorrow, Callie.”
Her smile drops, and sadness arises. “Why? Do you have to go?” Her quiet voice is comprised of disappointment and despondency. You can tell it hurts him. Her hope is dashed, replaced with sadness. “When will you come back?”
“As soon as he can.” You jump in to assist, hating the way he looks so devastated not having a specific date for her. Truth be told, you wouldn’t be surprised if he won’t be able to get away for another few weeks, if not more. “And you know what, you can use my iPad to Facetime him when he’s available anytime you want.”
Her eyes light up. “Really?” 
“Of course,” he assures. He reaches to push some hair out of her face. “I’ll call you whenever I can.”
She gives him a small smile. “You promise?” 
Joe swallows. “I promise, sweetheart.” 
Pleased and obviously ecstatic at this information, she surprises the both of you by tearing her hand from you to throw her little arms around him for an unexpected hug. You’re not sure why, but the sight makes your eyes water. His eyes close as he gently wraps his arms around her as well. You look away, almost uncomfortable interrupting this moment between the two of them.
When she pulls away, you swear you see disappointment reappear in his eyes. “Bye, Joe.” 
She returns to your side, and you gently direct her, “go put on your jammies and pick out a book. I’ll be right there in a few minutes, okay?” 
“Okay, mommy.” Without protest, she turns and heads back to her room. When it’s just the two of you, you turn to him, “she really likes you.” It feels silly saying such a thing. He’s her father. She should like him. She should love him.
But you also know better than anyone that being someone’s biological parent doesn’t automatically make them a parent. 
“That’s why you didn’t tell her, isn’t it? You want to gain her friendship first.” In watching and participating in the interaction between them, it dawned on you just why he didn’t tell her right away. Joe wanted to first establish a baseline with Callie, wanted her to get to know him just for him, to bond with him not because he was her dad, but because she wanted to. 
And clearly….clearly it worked. 
“She’s amazing,” he whispers. You see he’s still caught up in the emotion of it all, meeting his daughter for the first time, connecting with her as quickly and easily as he has.
“She is,” you agree, suddenly remembering why you’d dismissed Callie. “I–I uhh, I have something for you.” Standing back up—your knees were gonna hate you tomorrow—you pull the thumbdrive out of the back pocket of your jeans. He also stands with you. “I was that new mom who was intent on documenting every single thing my kid did, and I’m kinda glad I did now.” You reach and drop it in his open palm. “I got everything on video. Her first word, first time crawling, first time walking….all of it.” Suddenly uncomfortable with his silence, you add on, “I know it’s not the same as being there, but—”
“Thank you.” he interrupts in a quiet voice, immensely grateful to you at this moment. “Thank you, Y/N.” 
Emotion seems to be the keyword of the day, because yours are also all over the place, for a variety of reasons. It’s an experience that’s both overwhelming and confusing, but also….nice? You can’t necessarily describe it, but there’s something comforting about Joe having a role in Callie’s life.
But that doesn’t equate with your decision to not tell him about her in the first place, hence why you’re a hot ass, confused mess.
He’s making you feel things again, and you don’t like it. 
“I know getting back here won’t be easy, especially with the holidays rolling around. But, whenever you can come, you’re welcome. I mean it.” Thanksgiving is less than 3 weeks away. You’re highly doubtful he’ll be touching down before then. “Christmas is her favorite holiday. I know she’d love to have you here for that.”
“I’ll be back before Christmas and for Christmas.” You don’t know how, but you do know he’s convinced of it, and you don’t put it past him. He seems entirely determined. 
“Okay.” You walk him to the door, unsure why your bodies being so close to each other is an uncomfortable yet pleasing feeling. “Oh,” you suddenly remember something. “You need to make a Snapchat account.”
He scowls almost instantly. “A what?” A small laugh escapes you at his instant disgust. “I’m too old for that shit.”
“We both are, but it’s an easy way for me to share Callie and all her randomness with people. Make it and send me the username. I’ll add you.” It seems all it takes is for you to mention Callie, and he’s sold. He nods in agreement, all distaste washed away with the eagerness of receiving photos and videos of Callie on the regular. You keep your hand on the door, chewing on your lip, murmuring, “Goodnight, Joe.” 
He gives you a look, something unspoken in his eyes. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 
Closing the door behind you, you lock it and take a deep breath, unsure why your stomach is in knots. Not from anxiety or fear but happiness. 
You’re happy to have Joe back in your life, even with all of the bullshit that’s transpired in this single day. There’s something relieving about having him around, and you know it’s for Callie. It needs to be just for Callie, because what you can never do again is allow yourself to fall back into that situation. 
No matter how badly your heart and your head are clashing right now.
No matter how much you're starting to wonder if your heart ever really left that situation.
116 notes · View notes
quin-ns · 3 days
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The blue V (JJ Maybank x Reader)
Series summary: JJ has a secret, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold onto it. He discovers his breaking point when his best friend starts to show interest in you, his step sister, who he’s already fallen hard for
Series tags: step brother!jj, dual pov, jealousy, one sided john b x reader, drinking, inappropriate relationship, public sex, oral sex (f receiving)
Series masterlist + OBX masterlist
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JJ was trying to grapple with the fact that you kissing him somehow resulted in an awful night. It should’ve been a dream come true, but then you took it back in an instant.
He made himself at home on Pope’s couch for the next few days following the movie night, not knowing how to face you.
He thought he’d ruined everything when he kissed you that night in your room, but then in the morning, you’d given him some sense of relief. You didn’t hate him, and you were willing to forget about it. It wasn’t exactly what JJ wanted and sure it hurt like hell to agree, but at least he hadn’t lost you entirely.
But then it seemed as if you changed your mind almost immediately, evident by you going out of your way to ignore him at the movie. JJ couldn’t blame you for that, he had a feeling you were only trying to spare his feelings that morning. You were so loving like that, but he should’ve known that you always saw him like a brother—then he wrecked that, like he did with most good things.
JJ resolved to hide out until the movie was over in an attempt to accept his fate, but then you came along… and you kissed him. He was so happy to be wrong, but then you decided you’d made a mistake and decided it couldn’t happen again.
Everything had become such a mess. JJ wished he could blame you, or John B, or someone that wasn’t himself.
JJ wondered where he’d be right now if he hadn’t kissed you that first time, if he hadn’t crossed that line that there was no turning back from.
He couldn’t come up with an exact answer, but he guessed it wouldn’t be on Pope’s couch, pretending to be asleep so he wouldn’t have to get up just yet. He liked to think he’d be with you.
“I know your awake,” his friend said, calling his bluff. JJ reluctantly opened his eyes to find Pope standing over him, looking down with a brow raised. “Maybe I’d be more sympathetic if you told me why you were sulking.”
“I’m not sulking,” JJ argued. “I just know you’re gonna make me work.”
Maybe it was a believable enough lie, because Pope snorted.
When things got bad, JJ would usually stay at the Chateau. No adults around to worry about, and John B had the extra space for him—and you, on most occasions. It wasn’t like they weren’t on speaking terms, but JJ knew he overreacted and didn’t feel like apologizing quite yet. Plus, from what Pope mentioned, the other boy was busy anyway.
Or maybe it was just an excuse, he couldn’t know for certain.
He appreciated Pope for letting him stay, even if he’d begun to wear out his welcome. JJ could handle Heyward’s back handed comments, he’d dealt with worse. It was better than being at home, especially without you.
That was another thing he learned from Pope, that you were basically living at Kiara’s. He’d crack a joke about great minds thinking alike if you were around. But you weren’t, and he still blamed himself.
JJ wondered if Pope got the information from you or Kie, but he didn’t let himself ask. It didn’t really matter in the end as long as you were okay, even if you weren’t talking to him.
After he stormed off from the concession building, leaving you behind, he convinced Pope to pack up and head out early, leaving you and Kiara to finish the movie without them.
The entire drive back to Pope’s house, he dodged his friends' questions, and suppressed the urge to run back to you.
He wasn’t used to fighting with you, or even being mad at you, and he hated it. But he held onto that anger, because he knew if he saw you and you asked for forgiveness, he’d break. JJ clung to the stubbornness because it was easier. Even if you weren’t trying to hurt him, you had. It was bad enough feeling like he fucked everything up, but you giving him a taste of reciprocation only to regret it sent his mind in a spiral.
You told him that you couldn’t. Not that you didn’t want to. He reminded himself of that.
So if you did want to, what was so wrong about it? Really? He loved you, and you at least imagined a world where it was possible you could love him back the same way—enough to kiss him, at least. Maybe it only seemed wrong because of the way you two were acting.
You’d never been good at dealing with your feelings. That was something JJ learned the two of you shared.
JJ wondered what you were thinking right now. If it wasn’t for Pope practically dragging him off the couch to get ready for a day of grocery deliveries, JJ could’ve spent the entire day trying to guess what was going on in your head.
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JJ wasn’t exactly thrilled that Pope drove them to the Chateau after all the deliveries were taken care of, but he didn’t protest, either.
Truthfully, he did miss hanging out with John B. The two of them had been best friends for what seemed like forever. Even he knew that the building resentment towards his friend didn’t feel right.
When JJ thought about it, like really thought about it, he bet that if he genuinely told John B to forget his feelings for you, his friend would try. He was a good guy like that.
JJ’s only problem was explaining himself, and that’s what kept his mouth shut about the entire thing.
John B didn’t mention it either, just greeted him and suggested the three of them go out on the boat to fish in the marsh.
There was a strange sense of relief JJ felt when John B didn’t apologize, because he wasn’t ready to either. The silent acceptance of one another’s presence was enough for them to get on with things.
It was late afternoon, so they’d be able to fish for a little while. They each had lines cast, sitting scattered along the boat. JJ happened to be on the front of the boat, while John B was on the right and Pope was on the left. They had to keep it balanced enough that it wouldn’t tip.
“He’s not so bad,” John B explained as JJ tuned back in. “He’s just really into his boat.”
Right, John B was talking about work.
“He’s paying you enough, right?” JJ piped up, looking away from his line to his friend. “To have you on call like this?”
“Not exactly ‘on call’, but yeah. Ward’s being fair,” John B explained with a shrug.
JJ smirked to himself as he looked forward. “I still think Ward wouldn’t notice if we borrowed his boat for the night.”
John B scoffed out a laugh.
“He definitely would, JJ, it’s not happening.”
“I’m not spending my summer in jail,” Pope joined in.
John B and JJ exchanged a smile over their shoulders, and everything seemed back to normal.
“We should’ve invited the girls,” Pope said randomly. “Kie would’ve made sandwiches and Y/N always brings her speaker.”
“Kie won’t let us keep anything we catch and Y/N gets bored if we’re stopped too long,” John B countered. He smiled to himself. “If Y/N were here, she’d already be jumping behind the wheel and driving way too fast.”
JJ found himself chuckling, because it was true.
“When she drives it’s like she’s trying to throw us all off,” JJ added fondly. “But we let her anyway.”
“It’s not like you can argue with her,” John B continued. JJ shared a smile with John B at the thought. “She always wins.”
“It’s ’cause you guys let her,” Pope joined in, causing both JJ and John B to turn and look at him. Pope shifted to face them. “What? It’s true. Especially JJ.”
JJ couldn’t argue because it was true, like Pope said.
A curious look appeared on John B’s face.
“You think the girls talk about us when we’re not around?”
The three of them shared a look at John B’s question.
“Probably not,” Pope finally said, turning back to his line. He sounded almost disappointed.
If Pope liked you too JJ might have to jump into the ocean.
John B exchanged a look with JJ before asking, “You good, man?”
JJ swore he noticed the same selfish worry on John B’s face, and it reminded him John B was supposed to be an obstacle.
“You think Kie even notices me?” Pope asked.
JJ felt a weight off his chest. Somehow he’d forgotten about his own suspicions about that. He’d been so caught up in his own self destruction, it was hard to keep track of everyone else.
“We’re all friends, man, of course she does,” John B supplied, but he knew that’s not how Pope meant it.
“Right,” Pope said. He got to his feet, evidently done with trying to catch anything. None of them had been successful yet. “Just forget it,” he decided, reeling in his line. “We have rules for a reason.”
No Pogue on Pogue macking. It was supposed to maintain all of their friendships with one another without anything getting complicated or anyone getting hurt. The more JJ thought about it the lamer it sounded. It was pretty useless now.
No one knew quite how to respond to that, because if John B and JJ told him to ignore the rule, things could get weird. If they told him to follow it, they’d be hypocrites.
As John B got up to go to the wheel after reeling in his line, JJ watched him. He wondered what John B would have to say about it when it came to you.
You were someone worth breaking rules for, JJ knew that all too well.
He tried to smother the sudden wave of jealousy that threatened to overtake him. Him and John B were cool now and he didn’t even have to address the argument. That should’ve been a win in JJ’s book, but he couldn’t help but think about what would happen the next time you all hung out.
It made his stomach turn to think he might have to wait a while for that. He hadn’t seen your face in person in days, hadn’t heard your voice in just as long, and he was going through withdrawals. Photos in his phone of the two of you together only made his heart ache when he looked at them before sleeping. JJ tried to dream of you, but when he woke up he could never remember the details. There was only a familiar pang in his chest that he took to mean he had.
Every time he zoned out, he remembered the kiss. Mostly the second one, where you had kissed him. Where you’d held him and he’d pressed his body to yours.
JJ cleared his throat, face growing flushed at the memory. If you hadn't rejected him, JJ wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to stop at just kissing you that night.
He looked out in the murky water, getting only ripples of his reflection. It looked wrong without you at his side.
Back at the Chateau, they lounged on the porch, now avoiding the topic of you and Kiara. They all did it in a not-so-subtle manner, but no one commented on it either.
JJ was relieved, because the longer he thought about you, the more he started to internally spiral. It didn’t help that John B was right there, sitting on the couch that fueled the fire not too long ago.
He wasn’t even sure you liked John B like that, but JJ still held enough overall doubt to keep him on his toes. He didn’t think you would kiss him either, or that you’d reject him right after. He was finding it harder to read you these days and it got to him.
“There’s gonna be a party on the beach tonight,” John B mentioned once steady conversation began to dry up. “Apparently everyone is going.”
Everyone. That could mean you.
For as far as he’d gone out of his way to avoid you to spare himself, JJ missed you. He wanted to see you. JJ couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone this long without seeing you and it was becoming unbearable. Another part of him wanted to go to get an answer. If he could just talk to you, maybe he could get you to see his side of things. If he couldn’t… JJ didn’t want to think about it at the moment.
“I’m down,” JJ replied, already getting lost in his own mind, trying to formulate what to say to you. It excited him in a strange way as all the outcomes he wanted overtook his brain. He zeroed in on the positives, the ones where he got exactly what he wanted—to be happy with you. “How ‘bout you, Pope?”
“Yeah, sure,” Pope agreed with a nod. “I just gotta stop by my house first.”
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Having dinner with Pope’s family was nice, but JJ was itching to get out of his seat the entire time. He should’ve stuck with John B so he could be at the beach party by now, but he couldn’t say no to Pope, and Pope couldn’t say no to his mother.
It was way past sunset when they finally got to the Boneyard, and the party was in full swing. People cluttered the shore, music blasted from a speaker somewhere, kegs were placed about, filling the red solo cups that nearly everyone carried in their hands, and a decently sized bonfire was lighting the entire scene.
The entire car ride, JJ had been preparing himself. He decided he was going to tell you everything. Maybe you had some idea (well obviously, he didn’t kiss you for no reason), but he was going to lay all his cards on the table.
Stupid things had good outcomes all the time, right?
They hadn't so far but he had a lingering bit of hope as he reminded himself you’d kissed him too. You wouldn’t do that for no reason, he was sure of it.
JJ actually felt pretty good when he crossed into the sand.
“I’m gonna get a drink,” Pope announced, to which JJ just nodded.
He began to look around, knowing you were here. He had Pope text Kie to make sure. In hindsight it was a little intensive to Pope, but JJ could make it up to him later.
When he found you, you were sitting on a fallen tree trunk that had sunken into the sand since the last big hurricane knocked it down.
Just seeing you took his breath away, you always did. You didn’t seem real to him, he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve you in his life but he would be forever grateful.
And then, from a distance, he heard you laugh. He should’ve had the forethought to look who you were talking to, but JJ had been so distracted by the sight of you after many days without.
One flick of his eyes to the left and he sucked the air back into his lungs.
Right next to you was John B, sitting too close for JJ’s comfort. The two of you were talking and flirting, probably. JJ had eyes, he could see the way his friend was looking at you.
He swallowed, forcing himself to look away.
He didn’t see the point in watching any longer, a sour feeling was already building in his gut. Then, shocking even himself, JJ did something he had a hard time doing all his life.
He walked away.
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The blue taglist: @empath-bunny @juniebugg @lashay28 @redhead1180 @mariaeirhnh @wearemadeofstardust0 @obxwatcherficreader @echobx @rafeinterlude @rubixgsworld @niyahnotnia
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trashmouth-richie · 7 hours
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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐱: 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: eddie stays until clove’s shift is over at the club despite her best efforts to get him to leave. jolene expresses her concerns, an old acquaintance reintroduces himself with eddie. a piece of the past is revealed.
𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ stripping, drug use/abuse, alcoholism, addiction, abusive relationships, prostitution.
𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ no minors, depictions of poverty, child neglect/ endangerment, drug use/abuse, alcohol use/abuse, endangerment, 18+ sex working, 18+stripping, violence, smut.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 6.8k and a rewrite 🫣; we are finally getting somewhere in this story and i am sorry it took so long to pass these awkward tense filled chapters! 😓 im really happy with the way this chapter turned out and i hope you enjoy it too.
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A smile twists on your lips, and you can’t hide the funny tingling shift of your eyebrows as you test the numbness in your face. You felt as if the world was spinning with colors of orangey yellows and blushing pink.
“Slick…come. on.”
The sky moved above you in gentle waves, pulsing and vibrating. The tangle of tall grass around you felt like shaved butter beneath the pads of your fingers. A giggle bursts from your lips and you stretch your arms out, feeling the creamy splats of the chickweed on your elbows. You imagined that you were a piece of toast, becoming soft by a pat of butter and a smear of jelly.
Would you be flavored as Grape? Choke Cherry? Definitely Mulberry, you’d decided after moving your tongue against the dry membrane of your cheeks… willing for a drop of saliva to coat it, tasting the jam on it with every swirl.
“You’ve got to be shitting me!”
You look up, a drunken haze on your stoned eyes. Lids felt heavier with every blink upward towards the tendrils of caramel swaying above. A concerned look is painted on Eddie’s face and you couldn’t for the life of you understand why.
Sweat formed beneath his bangs, his temples dripping wet. He wanted to shout and scream as your finger reached up to poke him on the nose, a raspberried boop bubbles from your lips and a fit of laughter follows.
He was pissed when he finally found you at the party. Even more upset that the sweet freshman, Barbara, had distracted him by asking about the Chemistry test, trying to compare answers to see if she had gotten the questions right.
In that amount of time you had disappeared in the crowd of sweaty bodies, nowhere to be seen. He settled into an immediate panic. Crippling anxiety crawling up his spine.
This party was a bad idea, he should have never taken you here, but your puppy dog eyes never failed to make him cave. You were always good at that.
The rickety farmhouse now used for high school kids to drink beer and smoke weed was abandoned long ago. Paint had chipped from the wooden slat siding, the wallpaper was ripped to shreds in every room, graffitied over. Rumor had it, the class of ‘79 threw orgies in the basement.
He searched every face around the flames of the bonfire for you, called your name into the lonesome woods— but you were nowhere, and when he asked people if they had seen you, nobody knew who you were. He was scared, terrified— after what happened the last time you went missing at a party— he swore it wouldn’t happen again. His eye was still discolored from that fight.
An hour had ticked by then an hour and a half, and he felt full fledged crazy when he started searching in parked cars.
The sweet smell of weed hit him as he walked past a pickup he hadn’t recognized. The tailgate was laid down with a blanket laying across it in a rumpled mess. And he almost missed it.
Almost turned to leave when he spotted a hand, laying limp from beneath the flannel threads— and his stomach fell at the sight of a homemade tattoo sketched in the same spot as his, opposite hands.
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He planned on leaving. Not wanting to see the way your life had trainwrecked out of control and off the rails. But his heart ached for the girl he knew, the one he once left behind.
Eddie planted himself on that barstool like he was a permanent fixture. Keeping quietly to himself. Politely telling the bartender he was fine with the water and cold basket of wings that sat untouched.
His stomach was uneasy, sick with worry about the truth he spilled and your reaction to it all, acting as if it had never happened—turning something serious into a party. Maybe that was easiest for you? Turning a blind eye to the truth.
Tonight, Eddie would stay for you, ensuring you got home safely. Something he should have done years ago but couldn’t.
▫️▪️▫️▪️
You were floating on a warm and buzzing kind of high, drunk on the cheap liquor and pills you consumed tossing them back like a child would candy.
Reckless was an understatement for the mask you wore tonight. The armor shield you bared to protect yourself from getting hurt was heavy, but you never let it slip from your shoulders.
Overly friendly, flirting with the regulars, the out of towners. Anyone with a swinging dick was game. The college guys who you would normally rather drop dead than spend any amount of time talking to— suddenly were the most interesting males you’d ever laid eyes on.
You laughed at their stupid jokes, pinched their cheeks and kissed their necks as you ground your hips into their laps. Their grabby hands roamed over your body freely and you never swatted them away.
You accepted singles in your g-string like a eucharist in a catholic church. Their warm breath on your neck and shoulders held whimpers and groans as you moved above their laps to the music, or ran your tongue along their ear.
Giving away bits of yourself you didn’t care about, a lazy smile on your lips as your eyes closed and your head swayed along with your hips to the sultry music that played for Wendy’s set.
They all wore the same face, their voices were different but their soulless expressions spoke to the tiny crumb you kept hidden away that you still carried around, singing to you like a prayer of hope.
The only thing you couldn’t do was look any of them straight in the eyes. It didn’t matter who they were, their eyes were always the same: doe like, a stain of muddy brown and surrounded with dark lashes. Eddie.
The conversation you had with him burned like a fiery wind in your chest, and you did the usual to extinguish the flames. But the sad bourbon eyes parked at the bar ignited it every time you caught them in a stare over a suit jacket shoulder, making you turn away with something stronger than guilt.
Tipping back shots of god knows what, you fell deeper and deeper into the pit of numbness, until you fully succumbed to it, shutting out everything around you, disassociating to another time.
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Watching the swing of a chain bounce from left to right, your fingertips felt like lead as they dangled. Grass was on the ceiling being stamped down to the soil beneath large footsteps. A pair of black legs moved as you swung like a wind chime in a summer breeze. The skinny legged creature holding you was murmuring under its breath. It took you much too long to realize you were being carried and the thing holding you was Eddie.
Your face was level with his lower back, the black shirt he was wearing rode up enough to leave a sliver of navy checkered boxers hanging out. The pattern looked funny, like tic-tac-toe. The words forming on the tip of your tongues mind, tickling the muscle as you make up rhymes.
“linch-lactose, ditz-duck-toast, yic-yac- yo, pinch-punch post!”
Your fingers squeeze the band of his boxers and pull it way out, revealing the whitest ass you’d ever seen and you gasp in surprise as if your incoherent mind forgot what would be clothed beneath, letting the fabric snap back into place. Warranting an irritated yelp from Eddie that has you tipping upwards and upwards until you are falling downwards and downwards behind him.
Now you were wading on your back in a soft batter of cake, and Eddie swore under his breath.
“Up, get up.”
You shake your head at him, moving your fingers to try to make his frown tick up. “I’m having fun, you should try it sometime.”
He huffs in annoyance, “fun? You call running away from me at a party with some West Academy fuckheads fun?”
You blow a raspberry with your lips, tossing your body over to your front then your back again and again until you’ve rolled a few feet away from him further into the deep grass.
“Seriously?” Eddie groans in frustration following you crossing his arms once he faded into your peripherals, “quit acting like a little kid!”
Eddie never got mad at you. At his dad, the way you grew up, school… but not you.
You frown back at him, eyebrows curling inward, “what’s up your ass Munson?”
His eyes cloud with something you can’t recognize, not in your current state of mind at least.
“Nothing, let’s—can we go? I’m fucking exhausted, and you’re pissing me off.”
“Oh…” you sing, leaning up on your elbows, scowling, “I get it now, you can get high with Byers’ whenever you feel like it, but when I do it without you— it’s suddenly a problem.”
He doesn’t say a word, only sighing deep and running his hands through his hair til they snag on his neck, bangs shoved aside.
“You’re a real bastard y'know? A hypocritical, fuckass!”
“Me?!” he shouts, flabbergasted, “It’s been what? Three weeks since I punched Hagan until his mouth bled for what he tried to do to you… and now you’re just going around putting yourself in the same situation Clove! It’s stupid, you are being stupid! You’re just asking for something bad to happen, like you’re looking for it!”
It wasn’t easy to forget that night, the tears that slid down your face, the taste of blood and gravel in your mouth, or the rip in your clothes from being pushed down.
You spent nights lying awake, wondering what could have happened if Eddie wouldn’t have shown up when he did. White knuckling your blankets, you stayed that way until the sun shone through the ripped tinfoil on your window. The only reprieve you could find was altering your mind for an hour or two.
Looking for that tiny bit of relief, you jumped when the opportunity to let loose came up, hungry for the numbness to settle, for your mind to ease.
After all— you were just having fun. What’s the worst that could happen?
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Lights flashed in every neon color imaginable as the night drug on. He was torturing himself watching you become clumsier, spilling drinks, and nearly tripping over your own two feet.
The clink of the beads from the back room made his stomach turn as they moved like clockwork, girls went in every thirty minutes and out almost at the exact second it was up.
Shots of a bubbly pink liquid floated around in your hands as you brought them to a table of younger guys. Squealing as one of them pulled you into their lap, shoving his face into your chest as you giggled and swatted at him playfully.
Eddie wanted to puke. Wanted to throw his knuckles into that guy's stomach until he gasped for air. As much as he wanted to give in to his urges and bust the teeth out from that guy's mouth, he didn’t. Not wanting to embarrass you by being overly protective. He didn’t have that right anymore.
So he sat back and simply watched with a sinking heart, swirling the bottle of a now warm beer in his hand. Waiting.
Waiting for what— he wasn’t quite sure. Maybe you would sober up and he could take you to get some food at an all night diner? The two of you could laugh about old times, and you’d get to know one another again, in better circumstances.
He held onto that thought as his knee bounced watching you go from lap to lap at that table of college boys, a smile pressed to your lips that didn’t meet your eyes. Your pupils were so large he could see them from where he sat, inky blacks taking over where your natural color pooled.
“Hey there handsome, gin and tonic?”
Eddie swirled to face the bar at the bartender’s voice, thinking she was speaking to him. Her eyes didn’t fall to him, they were focused on a guy leaning his elbow across the counter, a gaudy red jacket flanking his shoulders.
Slitting his own eyes into narrow strips, he recognized him immediately. Still too many freckles pocking across his face. Hair cut short on the sides, slicked back with stiff gel. A cocky smirk on his face as he eyed Eddie, puffing out his chest like an alpha male. Tommy Hagan.
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The heels of your palms press into your eyes, creating shapes behind your eyelids as the tears slid out rolling down the apples of your cheeks, your head laying softly against the ground.
Eddie nearly broke when your chin quivered, your lips shaking as your lungs raked in a choked breath. He didn’t want to hurt your feelings, never wanted to be someone who made you cry.
He kneeled down next to you, reaching for your wrists to peel your hands from your eyes. You finally let him, but kept your eyes shut tight.
“C’mere,” he whispered, wrapping his arms under yours and hauling you up with him to stand.
Your tears wet his hands from where he held your face, wiping them as they fell. “Don’t shut me out,” he pleaded, worry spreading across his face, “you can tell me anything.”
Shaking your head you tried to pull yourself away from him. “It won’t go away, Eddie,” you sobbed.
You could hear his tantalizing words in your ear just like that night. Still feel his hands under your shirt, and when you pushed him away, running from him, Tommy had caught up to your drunken strides and shoved you onto the gravel, pinning you there.
“I’m tired of crying, I’m tired of being stared at… I wanted one damn night of not remembering, of feeling normal again!”
His arms squeeze around you like a vice, and you cry into the column of his throat, your tears coating the split ends of his hair.
Eddie murmurs your name as he runs his fingers down your back in a soothing pattern. Letting you cry it out. His heart shattering right along with yours.
He didn’t let go of you until your tears fell a little more silently, your sniffles scarce.
“I have a surprise for you.”
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His dark eyes were wild. Wide in psychotic amusement at the scene in front of him. “Physics proves me wrong again,” Tommy sneered, “they really can stack shit six foot high.”
Eddie shifts away from him, searching the bar for you. But Tommy doesn’t let up.
Waltzing towards Eddie, Tommy’s stocky build and red jacket made him look like something from a cereal box. “Ah, man, cmon,” he chides, leaning an elbow beside Eddie’s arm, “‘m only playin’ round.”
“What do you want, Hagan?”
“Now Eddie… is that anyway to treat an old friend?”
He was trying to bait Eddie, get him to swing on him maybe, finish the fight that started years ago. But Eddie wouldn’t budge, ignoring him completely.
Tommy runs his tongue along his teeth, “I have to wonder just how Rick would react to finding out that The runaway Munson bastard was sitting in his club, staring at his girl.”
Eddie almost choked on the breath he took, but he managed to keep his face calm even though he was breaking apart on the inside.
“She didn’t tell you?” Tommy feigns surprise, “She’s been his whore since your old man started selling dope. Don’t worry though—Rick is pretty generous, he’ll let you fuck her in the private rooms for the right price.”
Eddie swallows thickly, holding back vomit.
Tommy leans in close, his cheap cologne stinging Eddie’s nose, “pricey, but trust me…that pussy is worth it.”
Eddie’s fingers curl into tight fists.
“Oh and before I forget, Rick will be happy to know you’re back in town. Your old man still had some business to take care of before he vanished like a fart in the windp, and Rick is looking to collect.”
He watched Tommy leave. Striding up to one of the girls and squeezing her ass before laying a sloppy kiss on her lips.
Dread filled his soul like a sandbag, weighing him down until he could barely move, hardly digesting what Tommy had said before Rocket Queen started blaring from the speakers.
The crowd whooped and hollered for the girl on the pole, catcalls and wolf whistles, meaty hands slapping the stage with singles.
The table you were sitting at now sat empty, and you weren’t anywhere around, the bartender screamed your name and he knew before he even looked that you were the one on stage.
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“The treehouse?”
“The treehouse.”
What felt like a ten mile walk in your inebriation was barely even one as you followed behind Eddie. Your finger laced into one of his belt loops guiding you along with your eyes half open.
“When you mentioned having a sleepover, Slim— I thought it would be in one of our rooms, with blankets, a pillow maybe.”
It was a goldmine when you stumbled across it all those years ago. Deep in the woods behind Forest Hills, you couldn’t believe it was still standing.
He smiled and brushed hair from his neck, “ What’s wrong? Clovie wovie a wittle afraid of a dirt and some bird shit?”
You shove his shoulder and make a disgusted face, “mostly afraid of getting Hepatitis.”
“Relax,” he said, putting a foot on the first wooden rung, nailed to the tree trunk, “I was here last week and cleaned it out.”
He climbs the makeshift ladder with ease, all fluid motion like an ape at the zoo.
“There’s no way in hell I’m gonna be able to do this.”
Eddie gets to the stop and pokes his head down, “it’s not that high up.”
“Yeah but I am.”
Eddie rolls his dark eight ball eyes and lays on his stomach across the floor of the treehouse, partly dangling over the edge to reach for your hands. “Put your foot there, no— that one.”
It took longer than it should have but with great effort from Eddie and as much concentration as you could manage, you’d finally made it to the top, laying flat on your back huffing like you’d ran a marathon.
“Well, that was easy.”
Eddie glares at you with a sweaty brow, “yeah, you really aced it Slick.”
You raise a middle finger and he sends one back making you both laugh. “I’m gonna hire you to clean my house, it’s pretty nice up here.”
The floor was swept and a round rag rug laid in the center. A tarp covered the ceiling where rain always snuck through the roof.
“Yeah, yeah, figured this place shouldn’t go to waste just because we don’t use it anymore. Maybe Lolly could play up here with her friends.”
Eddie bends down to lift the lid to a large wooden box you don’t remember being there before. He hauls out a large sleeping bag, a folded quilt, and a flashlight.
Placing the flashlight under his chin to illuminate his face in creepy shadows, Eddie throws his voice into a creepy cackle, “know any good ghost stories?”
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The room spun as you hung upside down from your ankles crossed against the pole. It was a blur, a blackening clouded storm piercing your barely conscious mind. Years of dancing on this stage, you could practically do it in your sleep.
When you seductively lowered your bra straps and revealed yourself, the men went crazy. Everybody loved the devil, and right now you could use a better disguise to mask the pain from Eddie’s spilled truths earlier.
Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.
The more you tried to suffocate his name in your mind, soul, body, he remained. Always.
You hadn’t spoken to him since earlier when the bar was empty except for the two of you and seven year old secrets. His eyes burned into your skin whenever you saw him, and you wondered how far you’d have to go before he decided to leave again for good.
The answer you asked for left you feeling like you swallowed a Buick. It tasted wrong on your tongue like burnt iron, and it was too much to chew.
Throwing yourself on men’s laps like the true whore you’d grown into, you felt his stare on you all night, and no matter what you were doing, how loud you laughed or danced for dollars—Eddie stayed.
It should have charmed you, should have given you a little joy to know that despite your job, despite everything you’d been through with and without him, he wanted to be here. But those days had come and gone, and now the only thing you felt was burning rage.
Back in high school he would get so hurt when you’d show back up at the party having already smoked with someone else. You never forgot the way his eyes looked as you laid in the grass. Disappointment. The thing you couldn’t recognize in them at that time.
And disappointment was what you needed to find in his eyes tonight. But as you looked towards the bar where you knew he was sitting, the dark coal of his eyes weren’t looking at you at all. His head was lowered, picking at his nails.
The song played on, and the finale was coming up where you laid across the floor amongst the filthy cash and pretended like the moans from the woman in the song were your own, and that every guy in the bar was making you feel the ecstasy of an orgasm.
You wanted Eddie to be so uncomfortable he wouldn’t want to come back. He needed to hurt the way you had. He could have come back, Eddie knew you’d never leave Hawkins, and he— fuck, he promised that you’d both get out of here.
Maybe it was the drugs and the alcohol that were making you so irrational, but it never crossed your mind, and Eddie’s eyes never lifted to meet yours.
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One hand was laid across his chest, your head resting on his right bicep, a bent leg between his. You’d been asleep for a half hour according to his watch, and it’d been twelve minutes of you curled into him the way you were.
Neither of you had any good ghost stories, your real life being scary enough there wasn’t anything to fantasize about being more terrifying than that.
The two of you talked for a long time, whispering stories back and forth, laughing about the shade of Higgin’s face when you had both egged his house on Halloween last year.
Quiet fell over you both and you tucked the blanket under your chin, a small yawn escaping your lips.
“Eddie? You awake?” you whisper.
His chest expands beside you, “yeah, are you?”
“Yeah.. I wanted to tell you—”
The high was gone and you laid stone sober. You needed to thank him for helping you, for never giving up on you when you were beginning to give up on yourself, but it fell flat, carried away on the cool breeze blowing through the treehouse.
“… your butt is really really white.”
Laughter fills the space between, and you and Eddie giggle until tears squeeze from your eyes.
“You’re such a pain in my ass, y’know that?”
Moonlight shines through the open doorway illuminating the smile on his face, it was then that you began to see him differently as if he suddenly became more to you than anyone ever had. But maybe he always was.
Crossing a line you never had before, you lean forward pressing into him your body over his. Your heart raced but not any faster than his was. He was so handsome like this, and right here in this moment you felt as if it was second nature. As if looking at Eddie this way wasn’t new or different.
“You’re my best friend,” you said to him, stroking his cheek, “always and forever.”
You lean forward just enough for your lips to brush against his. The most delicate of kisses like a butterfly wing flapping in the wind.
Before he can say anything or react, you lay your head on the crux of his shoulder, and close your eyes.
When he was certain you were asleep, Eddie’s throat finally untangled and he whispered into your hair before kissing your forehead, “til the end of the world, baby.”
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He couldn’t look. Out of respect for you and for your dignity, Eddie wouldn’t watch your set. It made him feel wrong, dirty, as if he were just another sleazy guy hoping to get into your pants.
Last call was hollered out and Eddie finally raised his eyes to see the stage now empty, only catching the shine of your heels walking to the dressing room.
The bar was emptying out, the bartenders had stopped serving. Overhead lights hissed as they illuminated around the bar, much like the club go-ers showing the true coyote ugly before a night of regret could begin.
The black haired bartender smiled big and set a glass of water in front of Eddie. “You okay to drive, sugar?”
Eddie smiles small, sliding his hands down his face, “Yeah, I’m just waiting for a friend, figured she needed a ride home.”
There weren't any other customers left in the club, and the bartender raised an eyebrow, “one of the girls?”
Eddie nods tiredly, taking a sip of his water.
“Yeah, I didn’t tell her that I was waiting, but.. don’t think she’s sober enough to drive.”
Jolene knew the other girls had already left, having had Kenny walk them all out to their vehicles, all but one.
“Clove?” she seemed a little startled, “you’re waiting for her?”
He rubs his hands together, “Yeah.” Her eyes narrow and she leans across the bar, waiting for an explanation on who he is. “I’m Eddie Munson. Slick— Clove, I mean, and I grew up together in Forest Hills.”
“Munson?” her eyebrows nearly cross, “Wayne? Or Al?”
“Al, un…fortunately,” he admitted, twisting his rings around his fingers, “back home for Wayne’s funeral.”
Lightbulbs clicked and Jolene spread a wide smile, “I remember you, Patty my aunt, babysat for Clove’s sister sometimes.”
“No shit? Swear this world gets smaller and smaller.”
Jolene sighs a bit of relief after connecting the dots on just who was waiting for you, a mother hen to her little chicks. “You and her kinda took care of each other back then, right? Looked after one another?”
He shrugged, not really comfortable talking about those times with a complete stranger, “kinda, I mean we really weren’t given a choice.”
Sighing deeply and looking worn out, Jolene shakes her head, “she needs a little of that right now, a lot of it actually.”
Eddie’s eyebrows raise, “choices? Or someone to take care of her?”
Before she can answer him, the dressing room door flies open with a clunk against the wall, likely to leave a hole where the doorknob hit the already crumbling drywall.
The fine powder around your nose was still dusted in a spot you had missed, and your slippers were back on your feet.
Looking from Jolene to Eddie and back again you scoff in annoyance, “what are you still doing here?”
Eddie looks a bit taken back but doesn’t let your hurtful words slice through him the way you had hoped they would.
“Gonna bring you home, make sure you get there, alive.”
Rolling your eyes, you bite a curt goodnight to Jolene and brush past Eddie, hitting him with your purse on the way out as you shuffle for your keys.
Jolene’s face is full of worry and she looks to Eddie with pity in her eyes, “she needs both.” Taking his glass she nods towards the door as you’re part way through it, “she’s been lost ever since she walked into this club…but lately, it’s gotten out of control.”
If his heart could plummet any further it would, but Eddie simply looked to Jolene and gave her a nod of understanding before he stood and jogged to follow you out of the doors.
▫️▪️▫️▪️
Gravel crunched beneath your slippers as you stumbled your way out to your car. The depths of your purse finally revealed the keys they’d been hiding and you pulled them out in a hissy fit, ignoring the calls of your name from the last person you wanted to see right now.
“—wait! Shit why are you walking so fast?” Eddie said pretending to be out of breath.
You nearly fell into the back end of your car as you shot him a glare refusing to answer him. Holding onto the sedan to make your way to the driver’s door, keys out.
“What are you—?” He realizes you’re trying to unlock the door so you could drive yourself home. His sober body being more agile than yours— he quickly finagles them from your fingers and puts them in his back pocket.
“Give them back!”
“No,” he says firmly, “you’re drunk, you’re not gonna kill yourself getting behind that wheel.”
“What are you the cops? A fucking pastor out east.. or west.. or wherever the hell you live at now? I’ve done it a thousand ti—” you groan in frustration when he backs away out of reach.
You reach for him again and again, holding onto his shirt and trying to yank him towards you. Eddie gets free and slams against the driver's door.
“Stop! I’m not letting you drive.”
All fight in you is lost. Instead you flip a switch and turn on the charm, batting your eyelashes like you would at any Sam, Dick or Harry at the club to get a good tip. Swinging your hips, pressing your body against his, your voice lilts into seduction.
“This what you want?” you ask sweetly, a sinister look in your eyes, “why you came home, right?”
Eddie’s lungs weren’t functioning, his mind blank, completely and utterly speechless at the way you were acting. He was repulsed, disgusted with how this night had turned out.
You walk your fingers against his chest, placing a manicured hand under his chin. His skin crawled, feeling the failure, the let down you had experienced seep out of you, because of him.
He was pissed, fuming with rage at the idea that you would think that this is what he wanted? To sexualize his own friend, you!?
You had been used to using your body to your advantage to get what you needed to survive. It had become almost thoughtless as you me body took over.
The alcohol, drugs, the provocative behavior, it was all a tangled web of coping. Of growing to be a product of your environment. Wearing a suit of spades from the same hand you were dealt.
He felt as if he was no better than those pigs in the bar who grabbed ass for freebies. Regret looming over him with each and every second that ticked by.
When your hands started to go south, Eddie’s brain zapped and he grabbed your wrists, halting you from touching him any further than you already had.
He searched into your eyes for a shred, an inkling of the girl he used to know. But came up with nothing but sadness and a glossy high.
“That’s enough.” His voice was firm, startling you into a gasp at his refusal to fall for whatever the hell you were trying to do, “get in the car, Clove… I’m taking you home.”
Rejection stung, but this was worse than that. Throwing yourself at Eddie, trying to make him so uncomfortable that he would leave the bar only for you to try to seduce him so you could drive your own car?
Pathetic. Self sabotage wins again.
Your face falls before you could whip up a response, or continue to argue with him. You didn’t see the way his eyes were wet or the way he was falling apart. Yanking your wrists from his light grasp, you march to the passenger side of the car, mountains of regret pressed heavy into your shoulders, but your face was painted in a false unbothered state.
His back is still turned away as your foot taps impatiently. A loud annoyed sigh from you finally renders Eddie free from the crestfallen place he’d seeped into.
He unlocks the door and gets in, adjusting your seat to accommodate for his longer legs, reaching across the center to pull the lock for you.
▫️▪️▫️▪️
Coming out of the shower you were surprised to see Eddie standing in your kitchen.
“I’m a grown woman… I don’t need you to coddle me.”
His flannel hung on the back of a chair and he wore a plain white shirt underneath, thin enough where you could barely make out more black swells of ink spread across his back.
He had insisted on walking you to your apartment despite you rolling your eyes so hard they could have fallen from your head.
“Heard you throwing up,” he said over his shoulder, flipping something in a pan, and moving to the fridge, bending low to retrieve something from the bottom shelf, “I’ve been with you almost all day and haven’t seen you eat a single thing—so get dressed and sit down while I make us some food, yeah?”
“Eddie,” you groan with thrown around explicits, stomping back to your room. You had thrown up while in the shower, entirely liquid your stomach purged itself until you were gasping for breath.
You grumbled as you fought your way into an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. Foregoing the trouble of drying off properly, you throw open your door and smell the sweet scent of cinnamon.
“Y’know you don't have anything in your cupboards, right?” Eddie called from the kitchen.
Your head and your heart were fighting each other on how you felt about him here in your apartment. And you threw all rational thoughts out the window as you geared up with vinegar in your veins, ready to argue with him.
Rolling your eyes again you say, “didn’t know I would be hosting Julia Child.” The counters are filled with mixing bowls, the scarce amount of milk you had left and a carton of eggs. “I rarely eat here, besides… nobody asked you to do this. I’m fine, I can make my own food… and you can leave.”
He stops whisking the eggs and shakes his head before continuing, holding the bowl and turning to face you.
“My skin has grown pretty thick over the last few years, so if you think you can insult me enough to hurt my feelings, save your breath.”
Hands on your hips you stare up at him, “maybe your thick skin can tell your thick fuckin’ head that I don’t need you around.”
“Do you push everyone away, or is this a special thing you’ve saved just for me?” Eddie asks earnestly.
You stalk towards him, arms crossed, “well I’ve had seven years to come up with what I needed to say, so don’t flatter yourself.”
“By all means, lay it on me,” he retorts, spreading his arms wide, “I deserve it—but I told you why I had to leave,” he half pleads, “I didn’t have a choice.”
Rage pours from you thickly, and you can barely stand yourself as you scream at him.
“There’s always a choice! You’re only here now because you know you made the wrong one, and you can’t live with that!”
“I have one regret in my life— one… and you’re right, it was leaving Hawkins without you. I think about it every single day, but don’t think I never—” he pauses long and hard.
Would he ever tell you? Not like this, not right now.
“Don’t think what?” you poke, sticking a knife into his wound and adding salt until it festered, “c’mon Eddie don’t quit on me now.”
You were being awful, but it was the best shield you had.
“Really wanna go there? Wanna have this talk? Fine, we can do that,” he stood tall but his shoulders sagged and his voice was quiet, “but only when you’re sober. I’m not fucking talking to you about this while you’re drunk and high.”
“‘m not drunk,” you sulked.
Eddie turned back to the stove, placing the eggs in the hot pan and letting them sizzle before scraping them around with a spatula, “whatever you think, sit down… this is almost done.”
You slid into a chair at your table, “I’m not hungry.”
“Don’t care, you need to eat, and lucky for you,” he chides, turning off the burners, “I worked as a cook for about a week a few years ago, so I made due with what you had.”
You wait for him to say he was joking but he never does, “how did you manage that—learning the fine culinary skills from making grilled cheese and orange koolaid?”
He laughs and opens a cupboard looking for plates, “well, living on the streets, you find out real quick just how much you’re willing to lie to get a job.”
Eddie places two pancakes on each plate with a heap of scrambled eggs and a few slices of an apple.
For the first time since he’s been back you take in account just how scary it must’ve been for him when he left, and your heart sinks.
“How long did you do that?” you ask quietly, moving towards the coffee maker and placing a filter into it, adding the grounds.
“Work as a chef? Oh not long they figured out I didn’t know anything about cooking shortly after I burned the hard boiled eggs.”
“No, I mean… live on the streets.”
Eddie carries the plates to the small table, “a few months here and there… crashed on a lot of couches until I had enough money to rent a room from a guy I worked with… wasn’t too bad, the van was pretty roomy.”
Nodding, you watch as the coffee brews and begins to drip into the glass pot. He moves behind you and back to the fridge to get out a tub of butter.
The itch of him being in your apartment felt so beyond foreign but was starting to feel almost comforting. As if him being around was closing your own open wounds, and you were getting whiplash from listening to your mind and then your heart all in one night.
“I’m sorry you had to do that.”
He turns to see you looking at him with a sad look in your eyes, and it broke him to see you go from one extreme to another. Fighting mad like a cat in a bathtub one minute to crying the next. As angry as you had been at him, he understood because he experienced the same kind of light switch type of emotions.
Two kids who never learned how to properly handle feelings, now barely adults still navigating the waters of being an adult.
“Hey,” Eddie spoke softly, crossing over to you, he places large hands around your biceps, looking deep into your eyes, “I’m alright, Clove. I made it out just fine, okay? Someday you’ll see for yourself just how good life can be, I promise.”
Hanging your head you mumble, “there’s nothing good left for me, Eddie.”
His hand moves under your chin before he can even wonder if what he’s doing is alright, and a tear falls before he can wipe it from your cheek.
“Don’t say that.”
Your eyes lift to him as more tears leak out, “I’m stuck here…you don’t know the kind of shit I’m in.”
Eddie pulls you into him as you cry, rubbing your back as you sob into his chest. You didn’t know the last time that you’ve been hugged and you melt into his arms as you tuck yours further into him.
You needed Eddie home, as much as you hated how your lives ended up, this was exactly what you needed. Him. Here, with you.
“I’ll help you, Clove…” he whispers into your hair, “all you need to do is let me.”
For the first time in a long while you believed him. Putting hope or faith or whatever you could into that moment, into his words. Holding that little ball of light at the end of the tunnel close to your chest.
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runabout-river · 6 hours
Text
Yuji's accumulated Trauma
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After Choso's death, I've been thinking about Yuji's reaction to it. At first glance, it looks mature and composed and obviously Yuji doesn't have the time and privilege to grieve. More importantly, Gege didn't give Yuji any panel time to be distraught; his aniki's death scene was over pretty fast. The 3000 Shibuya deaths in conjunction with Nanami's and Nobara's deaths on the other hand had been given more time and more impact afterwards.
The difference in reaction between those two times makes sense in context but, in my opinion, not with Yuji being mature and composed about it.
Because Yuji never got over Nanami's and Nobara's death, he didn't heal from that, instead, he had a negative character arc where the trauma of their deaths affected his world view and mentality in significantly bad ways.
He started to think of himself as a cog in a machine and he also identified with Mahito, the curse who killed both his friend and his mentor figure, a villain and his personal antagonist. Yuji did not overcome Mahito in Shibuya, the story makes us forget that often times. He was marked and changed by Mahito and even though that curse ended up with an extremely pathetic death that didn't mean that he hadn't broken something inside Yuji.
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The only time where Yuji constructively dealt with that trauma was in his fight against Higuruma but that was only about his guilt over letting Sukuna kill 3000 people with his body. And it didn't get resolved completely, at least not in a way that would've helped with dealing with Nobara's and Nanaimi's death too.
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Yuji is taking that trauma from Shibuya, his feelings of weakness and guilt, and he puts them into believing himself to be a machine that has to follow a predetermined path. Before Sukuna took over Megumi, that meant being suicidal when the situation called for it. Yuji wanted his life to make sense again and dying so Angel would've her wish of seeing Sukuna dead to save Gojo perfectly fit into that.
After Sukuna possessed Megumi, his path and role stayed the same except killing himself directly was off the table but that tendency still exists inside of him. If he were to be presented a way to defeat Sukuna while saving Megumi at the same time where he would die as a result he would take that path immedietaly without hesitation.
Back to Choso's death. In my view, this unresolved trauma and his lack of will to live lead to an unhealthy coping mechanism: thinking of his friends and allies as already dead. We can see that when he asked Megumi if Nobara had survived Shibuya.
He knew that there was a slim chance she survived but it was so low that she was basically dead. When Megumi confirmed her fate, Yuji was prepared for it. Prepared to receive the bad news so instead of crying again he could function like the cog he was supposed to be.
And this Mahito-infused cog mentality still follows him until now. He has to function so his role can be fullfilled and when that means he has to think of his friends as having already been killed so he would never break again then that's what he's going to do.
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He did not despair over Choso's death, he despaired because it looked like he was alone and on the verge of defeat against Sukuna. His role was breaking just like his reason to live and I think that this mentality, his negative character arc, will find it's conclusion at the end of the Sukuna fight.
This fight is not the end of the manga, we still have the merger to deal with, there is still a big arc with smaller ones in between coming at us. But for Yuji something big has to happen, probably something pretty bad that has him crushed... at first.
At the end of it, he will finally deal with all his loss and his trauma in a good and healthy way and leave his life as a cog and being a human Mahito behind. Then he might finally shed the tears that were missing in chapter 259.
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tiredfox64 · 6 hours
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Can we shower Tomas and bi-han with some pampering after he's had a bad day? <3
A Well-deserved Rest
Prior notes: I'd give my attention to Tomas. Bi-Han can care for himself. Or let the other ladies in this world take care of him. It won't be me.
Pairings: Bi-Han x Gn reader, Tomas x Gn reader
Warnings ‼️: Nah
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Bi-Han
Being the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei is not an easy task. It never was. He had to observe many men while being summoned by Liu Kang at random times. It’s a constant runaround with little to no time to rest. Not to mention Bi-Han would never allow himself to relax. Always on guard and alert in case of anything. He’s only relaxed when he sleeps yet there were times when he would shoot straight up and be alert for nothing.
This day was somehow worse. Nobody in the clan was doing anything right. Their forms were off. Some of the new initiates were acting scared and backing out of fights. Bi-Han didn’t even have his brothers by his side to help find another way to correct these fools. For once, he gave up. No more for the day. He ended training early, had something quick for dinner, and went to the bedroom to finally rest. You were folding the laundry as he walked in. The instance he did it was like you already knew something was off.
“Today wasn’t too good, huh?” You casually asked.
He groaned as a response which was all you needed to hear. You stopped what you were doing and got right to work.
“Take your clothes off.” You commanded.
“I don’t want to-“
“That’s not the reason I am asking you to take your clothes off.”
Bi-Han wasn’t sure what you were planning until you went into the bathroom that was connected to your room. You walked over to the freestanding bathtub and turned the water on. The water began to fill the tub and you began putting in a little bit of soap. Can’t have the bath too bubbly, he doesn’t like it that way. You put a few drops of lavender essential oil in it to make it more relaxing. Light some scented candles and you just made a relaxing atmosphere. You called Bi-Han in and he was somewhat surprised with how quickly you prepared everything.
 As he slipped into the tub you started grabbing other stuff like towels and fresh clothes for him. The warm water was already doing him wonders by relaxing his muscles. He leaned against the side of the bathtub and you came up behind him. You knelt down and started unraveling his hair from his tight bun. His obsidian hair flowed down and you shook it up a little to relieve the scalp. You got right to work with wetting his hair before pouring some shampoo in your hands. Your fingers slipped through his thick strands, carefully as to prevent accidentally yanking on it. Bi-Han can’t lie, he prefers if you were the one to wash his hair. You take better care of it and massage his scalp at the same time.
In a matter of five minutes you got him to relax, almost forgetting the frustrating day he had. You washed the shampoo out of his hair. Careful, don’t get it in his eyes. Then you went to focusing on his face. He’s not big on you doing something with his face with your fancy and pricy products but you always insist. He gives in because he loves you enough to do so. You started rubbing your face washes on his face. He keeps jerking his head away but you reposition his head to get the job done. Hey, at least you’re not doing a clay mask on him. He should be grateful this is the only thing you are doing for him.
Some time passes and he’s about ready to get out. You practically took care of everything for him. He never realized how tense his muscles were before. You passed him a towel and left the fresh clothes in the bathroom for him to change into. Bi-Han was ready to hit the hay but you had one more thing to do. When he sat on the bed you came up behind him and told him to sit still. In your hand was a comb which you started to use on his hair. It helped take the potential knots that were in there. Another example of you taking better care of his hair than he does.
You finished quickly. Now he can sleep. He was much more relaxed than when he first walked into the bedroom. You did the simplest things to him yet it did wonders. Bi-Han began to lay in bed and so did you after putting everything away. The tub was drained, candles extinguished, clothes folded, and a happy partner. You brought him close to you, resting his head on your chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist and brought you closer. He took a deep sigh before saying,
“Thank you…” He whispered.
You know him so well. You knew he wasn’t the type to talk about his day. You never had to say a word you went right to taking care of him. For that, he is grateful to have you in his arms.
Tomas
Building a new clan was hard. Finding the right initiates was like hunting a snow bunny in Alaska. The only luck Tomas had was with Hanzo but he was his own challenge. Getting him to listen or calm down was a hassle. That’s what happens when a teenager is dropped into the care of someone who doesn’t have a clue about how to handle a raging teen.
Some days had their ups and others had their downs. Some days were a breeze with little to no casualties. Others…not so lucky. This day was one of those unlucky days.
Tomas was hungry and tired. He didn’t even have the energy to cook himself a meal. Luckily, you were just finishing up in the kitchen area. You smiled once you saw him. You were planning on surprising him with his favorite meal.
“Aww, you ruined the surprise. I thought I would have more time before you were finished training the initiates.” You acted like you were upset but that smile on your face betrayed your tone.
He looked at you confused, tilting his head to the side as he waited to see what you meant. Once he saw you place the slow braised pieces of beef on the plate he knew what you meant. His stomach growled like a plea to Tomas to take a bite out of that delicious piece of meat. You had him sit down at a nearby table and placed the food in front of him. It was still hot but he couldn’t wait. He dug in before you could place the basket of bread slices in front of him. The poor man was starving. You were his savior that blessed him with amazing food. His mood had already improved.
Once he was done you both made your way to the bedroom to get ready for bed. For some reason you were clinging onto Tomas a lot. No wait, there was a reason, you wanted to make him feel better. Even when he was brushing his teeth you were hugging him from behind while leaving kisses on his neck. Don’t worry, he was absolutely loving it. It got better when you both got into bed. You brought him close to you and had him lay his head on your lap. Your fingers ran through his hair as your other hand went to hold his hand.
“Do you want to tell me about your day?” You asked.
He sighed at first before deciding to let out all his frustrations. You were always to listen anyway. He ran through everything, the training, the initiates, trying to calm Kuai Liang down from his frustration, helping train Raiden, the usual struggle. Throughout that whole rant of his, you kept looking right into your eyes while your fingers ran through his silvery hair. Your thumb rubbed over the top of his hand to keep him calm and reduce any instance of him getting worked up from talking about the issues of the day. What also helped keep him grounded was your words. You assured him that he was doing his best, that nobody expects perfection, and that everyone appreciates him. He does so much for everyone and though that can be overwhelming it also felt good to know that he is appreciated for his efforts. Especially to hear those words come from your lips.
By the end of his rant he felt mentally lighter. Only when he was done did Tomas realize all the things you were doing. You looked at him so lovingly with no sense of judgment or annoyance. He started to relax more to the sensation of your fingers massaging his scalp.
“Thank you, my dearest. You have no idea how much you mean to me.” He said.
“Even if I didn’t know, that wouldn’t stop me from caring for you every day.” You smiled at him before giving him a kiss that he needed and deserved.
At least Tomas knows now that even if he has a bad day, coming back to you means his day will end on a good note. His love for you increased. He knows for certain that he wants you by his side all the time. He never wants to let you go.
After notes: I hate posting late I’m sorry. I was trying to take multiple naps but each time I tried I would end up panicking in my sleep. Also sorry it took long for me to get to this I hope i didn’t upset you. Adiós!
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cosmiccandydreamer · 2 days
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This is a one shot that has been rotting in my brain 🧠 because I like to hurt myself apparently.
Alastor x reader
Too little too late.
You decide to accept Lucifer's proposal.
Sorry in advance everyone 😭😭😭
Warnings: sad alastor?
“So you're marrying him after all” his voice made you jump, it cut through the darkness like a knife breaking the silence. You looked around in an attempt to lay eyes on the demon but you saw nothing. You focused on the radio sitting on the table, sighing you ignored it. If he wasn't even here what's the point in even responding? You started to remove your jacket placing it on the chair next to you. “Hello Alastor” You felt his presence without even turning around, the static heavy on the air causing the hair on your arms to stand up.
“I asked you a question” You finally turned to see him standing there in all his glory, microphone in hand strained grin on his face eyes narrowed. “Yes I am and what are you even doing here shouldn't you be off doing a broadcast” the last word slipped from your voice with intentional venom. You leaned towards him as you said this, walking across the room to grab a glass and pour yourself a drink. “I care because we are friends are we not?” He asked eyes tracking you as you sat down on the closest armchair lifting the glass to your lips. “I don't know, are we? Because you have not been acting like it of late but then again who knows with you, your definition of friends tends to differ from mine”.
He was in front of you now causing you to jump. “ You can't be serious.. Lucifer of all people”. “What's wrong with him?” You looked at him now “he's kind, powerful, handsome” he scoffed “ he takes care of me he provides me with security and most of all he knows what he wants and it's me”. “Does he or is he lonely?” Alastor asked, moving a small step closer to you. “Does it matter? I'm lonely too”. You looked down now playing with your glass running your hands over the rim. Don't cry you told yourself don't cry don't cry. “How.. could you be lonely if you have me?” He asked, blinking back his tears, his smile fighting to fall. “But I don't have you..” you looked up at him now “I never had you did I? You leave without an explanation. I waited for you like a fool. You come back and still act like what we had was nothing. I can't wait for you to decide what you want from me anymore. Alastor I'm sorry”.
You stood now trying to pass him to refill your drink. He grabbed your arm turning you to face him, lifting your hand to touch the engagement ring on your finger that Lucifer had placed there earlier that evening. “Alastor I care for you I always will and I want you in my life but I can't be what I was not anymore”. He said nothing, just lightly stroking the ring on your finger. “He's not bad you know Lucifer he's a great guy I know you don't like him but he's good to me” Alastor just hummed before releasing your hand he finally looked up at you. “I understand I do, this is something I should have done years ago” Your eyes widen you open your mouth to speak “ y/n? Where are you honey?” Lucifer's voice rang out through the hallway. You whipped your head towards the door and then back at Alastor “I have to go” he grabbed your arm tight “Y/n please” Tears pricked his eyes his grip fighting to break through your skin. It took all the restraint you had to not run into his arms but you knew it would still be the same just an endless cycle of heartbreak. You pulled your arm away voice cracking “I'm sorry I love you I always will but I can't” you turned and headed out the door. Leaving him alone as the tears silently fell.
Not sure if this will eventually be a full blown storyline. I am going to attempt to dust off my old sketchbook and draw some artwork for this story. It's been a while so I am a tad rusty.
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jumexju · 3 days
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LAVENDER KISS
Pairing !! : L / Reader
Fic Type !! : Comfort / Fluff / Oneshot
CW !! : Mentions of depression (PDD), severe depressive episodes to the point of it being debilitating, reader is described to have curly hair
Summary !! : L is surprisingly good at taking care of you.
Note !! : This is highly self indulgent.
✦ MASTERLIST
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There were times when you weren’t alright. Times in which the nights felt better than days, the isolation of your apartment better than socializing with people & when the cold breeze felt better than the warm rays of sun on your skin. It wasn't that you preferred to feel so.. empty. No one truly wants that for themselves. But nonetheless, it was something you’d dealt with since your adolescence. You couldn't control it.. Or maybe you’d just given up. In a way, it’d become a comfort to you. A sort of warm blanket that was forcibly wrapped around you every few weeks.  
You always knew when a specifically bad episode was about to happen. 
You started off your day with a cup of coffee. Or, well, you would have if you hadn’t had trouble getting out of bed in the first place. You peeled the blanket off of your skin, exposing yourself to, what you felt, was the biting cold of your apartment. Trudging through your empty, dimly-lit apartment, you tiredly brushed your teeth and made yourself a cup of coffee afterwards. You didn’t even drink half of it before deciding to go back to bed. Maybe if you slept through it, it’d get better. 
But you knew better than to lie to yourself. 
It was 8 PM when you awoke to the sounds of the door opening. Your brows furrowed as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. You hadn’t invited anyone over.. And you were the only one with a key to your apartment besides.. Oh. You got up from your bed and walked to where you heard the sounds of his presence. Leaning on the wall, you smiled a little as you gazed upon his hunched frame. He was still taller than you despite his posture, which he found to be amusing. 
“Did you solve the case?” Your soothing voice ricocheted off the walls of your apartment. The soft sounds pleasing to his ears. He wasn’t an emotional man but he could admit that he missed you. Though.. You looked more tired than you usually did. He wondered why that was. 
“Yes.. It was particularly easy unfortunately. Did I come at a bad time?” His calm tone brought you a sense of comfort. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him too.  
“No, no.. I was just sleeping but,” you chuckled nervously as you yawned, “I’ve basically slept the whole day away, So..” His wide eyes narrowed at your seemingly worn-out figure. Were you not sleeping enough? 
“Are you okay?” He was never the type to sugarcoat things. 
But then again, neither were you. “No, ..I’m depressed.” You reluctantly admitted it but you knew he wouldn’t judge you. He dealt with it too.. Maybe that’s why you two worked so well together. 
You didn’t know how — or when — he’d gotten so close, but you weren’t fighting it. In fact, you desperately wanted his warmth. The feeling of knowing that someone knew what you were going through and validated you was priceless. You appreciated him greatly, you just hoped he knew it too. L wrapped his arms around your neck in a comforting gesture, you inhaled the scent of lavender that he carried as you brought your arms up and hugged him back. Whenever you two hugged, it was never just a hug. It felt like nothing else mattered when he had his arms around you, in the same way, everything melted away whenever he had you in his arms. Though he could never express his feelings clearly, he knew that you would understand. You always did. 
“Have you showered yet?” He asked you as he played with your frizzy curls. You hadn’t had the energy to shower in a week.. It was embarrassing and you felt guilty about it. But whenever you thought about showering, all you could do was sigh. It all felt like a huge chore to do. Especially with your curly hair, just thinking about the sectioning, the detangling, the creams, the diffusing.. Lord. You just didn't want to think about it. You didn’t want to lie to him — he would find out the truth anyway — so you shamefully nodded. 
“That’s ok. I’ll start a warm bath for you.” L usually didn’t spend his time doing such trivial things, he was the World's Greatest Detective after all! He should be solving cases and serving justice, yet instead he was here. With you. Taking care of you. 
You couldn’t be more grateful for him. 
“..Thank you.” You meekly said as you looked up at him, his softened dark eyes gazing at you. He didn’t say anything else, just gave you a kiss on your forehead and told you to go get your towel while he started the bath. 
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The sound of your soft humming matched the quiet jazz that played in the background as you let L detangle your hair for you after he divided it into sections. He was familiar with the routine both because he had seen you do it multiple times and because he did his own research on it. Unsurprisingly, he was great at it. His pale fingers were meticulously gentle as they worked to get the tangles out of your hair. 
“I’m not hurting you, am I?” He carefully asked as he unclipped another section of hair and began detangling it. 
“No, you’re good.” You smiled to yourself as you felt him take his time combing through your curls. “You’re actually really good at this y’know.. Thank you.” 
He smiled a little, “Your hair smells nice.” 
“Yeah? It smells like you.” You played around with the water, your knees pressed up against your chest as he took care of you. 
“I have a smell?” He snickered. 
You watched as the water from your hands poured back into the body of water in the tub, “Yeah. Lavender.” 
“Did you know that lavender soothes anxiety and depression?” 
You chuckled, “I didn’t know that,” You turned to look at him, “Is that why you wear it?” 
“Mmm.. No, it’s just a benefit.” He planted a kiss on your nose, you scrunched it in reaction to it before turning your back to him again. 
“Either way, I like how it smells. It reminds me of you.” L smiled as he heard your words. 
“Are you feeling better?” 
You nodded lightly, “Now that you’re here, yeah.” 
After shampooing and conditioning your hair, he helped you scrub your body to get you all clean. It was the first time he’d ever seen you naked, but it didn’t feel sexual at all. He didn’t make comments on your body or make you feel awkward in any way — in fact he made you feel seen. 
And not at all in a bad way.  
That was when you realized the difference between a man that respected you and a man that only saw you as an object. He loved you and he’d shown it many times, but he was still respectful of you — even after 2 years. Hell, he still asked if it was alright when he kissed you. 
It was one of the things that you loved about him. 
He wrapped your towel around you and helped you dry off. “These are the creams you use, right?” He asked as he took out two containers & a bottle of light-weight liquid gel. 
“Yeah, this one, too.” You handed him the bottle of mousse and continued to dry yourself off. He took the lid off of the containers and began to work his magic after sectioning your hair off again to make sure that the product was evenly spread throughout your hair. His gentle hands wasted no time in getting themselves sticky with cream as he did your hair for you, maybe acts of service was one of his love languages? 
You didn’t know, all you knew was that it was strangely domestic for the two of you to be doing this. But it wasn’t unwelcomed. It was a simple gesture, him helping you shower and do your hair.. It was simple. Maybe.. “..Why are you doing all of this for me?” 
“..Does there need to be a reason?” He was rather quick with his response. But you knew that L never did anything without a reason, hardly any of his actions were without one. You decided to tell him so. “You’re telling me there wasn’t a reason..? You just wanted to help?” You sounded surprised. And rightly so. 
Because L didn’t do trivial things like this, you noted again. L didn’t just visit his lover just to have to take care of them. L wouldn't go this far for his partner.
But.. “Is that unreasonable?” he asked you. “I empathize with your situation.. And you’re dear to me, I do not want to see you go through it by yourself.” ..Maybe he really did do trivial things like this.. Or maybe they weren’t so trivial to him in the first place. 
“..Oh.” you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you combed and scrunched your curls. You never would have believed that he’d do this if he wasn’t behind you doing just that. 
“Have you eaten?” He asked as the soft jazz played in the living room of your apartment, he decided to make a calm environment while he helped you bathe and figured it’d please you if you had music as background noise. He truly was a sweetheart, more than you initially gave him credit for. 
“Not yet, I spent the whole day sleeping..” As if on cue, your stomach began to grumble.  “Do you have anything you’re craving? I can have Watari bring something over.” He offered to you as his skilled hands carded through the last section and scrunched it up. 
“I don’t want anything heavy so.. Can we get chocolate cheesecake?” You looked at your hair in the mirror, admiring his skills. 
“Yeah of course. Is that it?” He asked. 
“Mhm.” you answered with a warm tone to your voice. Him doing all this for you didn’t cure you from your debilitating episode of depression, but it lifted your spirits. He got the hairdryer out of the cabinet you had it in after calling Watari and telling him to bring over some cheesecake. You handed him the diffuser attachment and he snapped it on. “It should be on medium heat,” You told him before sitting back on the lid of the toilet to make it easier for him to dry your hair. 
It was nice having him care for you, you had to admit. 
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After he had finished with your hair. The both of you indulged in that chocolate cheesecake you wanted, he had surprised you with macarons too since he knew how much you liked them. One of the things you two had in common was your sweet tooth, though his was stronger than yours. That’s why you accompanied your cheesecake with a cup of milk instead of a too-sweet coffee like he did. 
Now, you laid in bed with him at your side. Your arm loosely splayed across his torso while he laid on his back with his arm under your neck, basically keeping you at his side. “..Thank you for coming today.” You told him softly, the moonlight seeping in through your window. “I really needed it..- no, you.” 
“Why didn’t you ask me to come over sooner, ____?” he asked you. His black eyes gazed upon you with only warmth and care in them. 
“..I didn’t want to bother you.” You almost whispered it, but it was true. You knew he was busy. And you knew you’d get better soon anyway by yourself so what was the harm? “Did you really want to know?” 
“Yes.” He answered without hesitation. “If you’re hurting, I would like to know. Even though I cannot take the pain away, I could be there for you.” L answered confidently. “You’re not a bother to me. I know that cases keep me busy, but I can always make time for you.” 
You swear you could almost tear up at what he was saying to you. He sounded so genuine.. It almost felt as if you would be insulting him to think that he wouldn’t want to know about your mental health. “I’ll try to let you know from now on, then..” You smiled into his white tee. 
He planted a kiss on your forehead, his fingers grazing your cheeks. “Go to sleep, you need it.”
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darkonekrisrewrite · 2 days
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Something I've noticed is that MHA and MLB (miraculous ladybug) is that they are similar in how their protagonists are blamed for the wrong things.
Like Deku constantly injures himself because no one taught him how to use his quirk, and is over a decade behind his peers, gets blamed for that. Or how the series seemingly gives him equal responsibility for him and Le Million not saving Eri right away, when he wanted to, Mirio overruled him, meaning he wouldn't get the support needed to push this and he's supposed to listen to his upperclassman.
Yet he isn't given any blame for his lack of critical thinking skills when it comes to heroes and morality. If they are a hero they must be good, and villains must want to be perfect heroes for the law, to be redeemable.
Endeavor says to his face that he only took him and Bakugou on to manipulate Shoto, after Shoto has told him he bought & abused his mom, and himself. Deku "oh it's so good that you are working on forgiving your dad," right in the same room as Natsuo who isn't. Then tells Dabi "Endeavor is such a good hero and mentor, you have no right to be upset"
Let me know if you want me to go more into the parallels of this
Yeah, Deku getting blamed for not knowing how to use his (very new) Quirk was wrong.
At that time, it made me feel bad for Deku, because anyone could see that those circumstances weren't really his fault.
It was the fault of UA and All-might for not giving Deku extra time and help in mastering OFA, even if there was some attempts at instruction, none of them ever cut Deku any slack for having completely understandable difficulties.
Not a very logical line of thinking...
The Eri situation was a little different because while Deku is supposed to listen to his senior for what to do, he did let a clearly scared little girl go off with overhaul, a man they knew was very dangerous.
Basically putting his orders above the little girl's safety, I didn't like that.
(Because Deku could have run off with Eri and Mirio could have taken overhaul out by himself if there was a fight.
Because if Mirio was able to fight for a while against overhaul in a fully enclosed space (something that heavily compliments overhaul's quirk), while he was quirkless...Mirio could have curb stomped overhaul while protecting any civilians that may or may not have been close.)
That was where my problem with Deku started I think.
Because Deku doesn't have anything to criticize about hero society or the victims it creates.
He says that he needs to extend a helping hand, not giving a single thought to the idea of preventative measures to stop people from falling to villainy in the first place.
And apparently, not giving them any real mercy or help either, other than a fist bump at their death.
All for the sake of protecting the "innocent" people who created the villains and who would have laughed at Deku's own suffering as a quirkless less than a year ago (canonically).
These are meant to be the ideals of the "World's Greatest Hero" btw...
So I guess it makes sense that Deku wouldn't be blamed or called out for this, since he's just doing what hero society needs to be "Normal" again.
Deku didn't even save the world technically.
Because if the same problems that created the Lov still exist, then all Deku really did was beat at a rising Ocean Tide, no different than what All-might was doing during his time.
As of yet, nothing has actually been accomplished or achieved.
All the endeavor and Dabi stuff ties into this too.
At this point, I don't think Deku will ever have any real negative feelings towards hero society, and thus never change anything.
(Despite all this, I'm still hoping shigaraki is alive and Deku conflicts with him more to prove me wrong 🤞🍀)
And yeah, more parallels would be cool 👍 thanks for the ask!
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siriuslynephilim · 5 months
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tag limit hit ho gayi yaar
#haan toh main kya bol rahi thi.#haan unhone sab itna jaldi kiya cheek pe kiss bhi kiya i was like arey please no aap rakho itne saare paise i can't 😭#cause she already bought me that hoodie for like 700 rs#she was like i can't be here for your birthday na#bhai meko toh rona hi aa gaya itna saara pyaar i swear mere parents ko iska 1% bhi nahi hai mujhse😭😭#and money has been tight bachpan se cause shit happened in like 2013 or something and since then we've all been single#mindedly striving for highest paying jobs best education and now that she's finally there (touchwood)#i think it means a lot to her being able to spend money freeely for her loved ones#and with her idk i do believe that she loves me yes because she said ek baari when she was crying because kuch kuch hua tha#but also attending meeting office ki online rote hue sob karte hue kyunki parents time dekhkar thodi na ladte hai#and i didn't know how to help her and i knew they were. fighting subah se and she hadn't eaten anything so i made her cornflakes ka doodh#(her fav) and gave it to her table pe but it just made her sob much much harder and she couldn't drink it😭#but later on she said ki im so thankful i have you mujhe dikh raha tha ki you wanted to help but you didn't know kaise karu still you tried#and just you being there was enough in that moment#like i don't know why im thinking all this today maybe because bua is here home and she was home that time too it happened in front of her#all this she's the only person who knows what kinda shit dad does#and just. past few weeks i really genuinely wanted to kms like i would sit in morning class and i would look down at my hands and see the#veins and think one cut and it would all be over you're so tired i know you can rest now#it got so bad that i started wearing full sleeve clothes only so i couldn't look at them#but now. i won't say it's completely gone that feeling but like#i want to live because so many plans i have to with my sister how can i leave her alone#like not just for her but for me for us i want us to be happy together like we planned#like yk us as a unit doing things we've always dreamed of visiting places and bachelorette parties and clubbing and living with her and her#bf/husband when i need somewhere to run to and going on a no budget shopping spree and storing ice cream tubs in our house#like they used to do in american movies and her having kids me getting over my disgust for them helping her raise them clean them being#the masi and#I DON'T KNOW OKAY OMG😭#i felt so loved finally after a long time SACH MEIN real way mein#oh pata hai she also offered to pay mere tui ki fees bc i was complaining to mom ki papa kaise taunt maarte hai😭#like it's 20 fucking thousand waise toh kam hi hai but as a salaried person it's still a lot 😭
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moonlayl · 2 years
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For the sake of humour, they made Jennifer Walters ridiculously incompetent, even though she’s supposed to be a good lawyer both in the MCU and in the comics.  
#it's annoying tbh#and like...I thought the first episode wasn't bad#but it's just more and more ridiculous situations and her not really learning anything?#like she comes off as obnoxious and self-centered#and not in a 'she's supposed to be a flawed character so those are her flaws' way#more in a 'she's super strong and great and this is what a girl boss look like'#looks*#where's the struggle in being a superhero outside of it affecting her dating life?#they legitimately had her more upset about going against the guy making her her dress#than about defending the man who attempted to murder her cousin#like initially when people went berserk over her angry outburst in the first episode#I didn't agree with them because idk I felt they would actually expand on that?#like okay she can perfectly control the hulk. clearly she doesn't realise how difficult it would be like#I thought the next few episodes would show us her struggling with it after her initial 'everything is fine. I'm fine.' phase#but no....she was legitimately fine. with a big change like that. wtf?#like she says something along the lines of 'I work for THEM' but she chose to do it and didn't really fight it?#and don't even get me started on her using 'she-hulk' to try and find dates#that was just weird.#15 year old Peter Parker thought about it and recognised the ridiculousness in that#and he was only wanting to impress ONE girl who he KNEW was a fan of spiderman#and he STILL immediately talked himself out of it. He's 15.#'is there anything more depressing than dating in your 30s?'#yeah...how about a terrifying transformation that gives you new powers and changes your body and impacts every aspect of your life? -_-#anti mcu#jennifer walters#she hulk#anti she hulk#marvel meta#in the tags#layl.text
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some people I swear to fuck do not understand how not to doxx themselves online . like to the point that it could be the poster child for how people get stalked and killed through the internet. STOP THAT SHIT . PLEASE. IM SOBBING ON THE FLOOR.
#sorry my cousin woke me up at 4am barely just after i fell asleep to show me his tiktok page and i am LIVID#LITERALLY IN HIS SCHOOL UNIFORM.... WITH LOGO CLEARLY VISIBLE...#did those internet safety lessons mean nothing to you#like i know every video we watched was incredibly over the top but come on youre meant to understand the point its trying to convey#which is DONT POST THAT SHIT ONLINE WHAT ARE YOU DOING#if it wasnt 4am and i wasnt so tired i would go off at him#but unfortunately i tried speaking and my mouth has decided the only sounds coming out of it are “#'mhm' and a growl so. im not even going to try#like its bad enough with half my friends having their symptoms diagnosis and triggers in their bio but ATLEAST THEYRE NOT SAYING WHICH#SCHOOL THEY GO TO#I WISH SO BAD I COULD SIT ALL EVERYONE I KNEW DOWN AND GIVE THEM AN ESSAY ON BASIC INTERNET SAFETY. BECAUSE LORD.#i think only my uncle who mind you works with computers gets this concept and it makes me so mad#fuck the internets erasure of privacy so baddddddd#i wish i could communicate this but i dont think any of my friends who do this would listen#and i dont want to start a fight just because of it. but sometimes i do wish i could punch someone and immediately have them understand#my point perfectly with no flaws#idk whenever i try and say anything im always just drowned out or someone tries to accuse me of something that is completely#out of nowhere and makes me wonder how its relevant to the conversation at all#like i love my friends. wish they werent like that sometimes#like i care about them so much !! but sometimes something happens and its just. come on girl you can do better than this#i dont think theyre abusive or anything theyre just kind of flawed. and everyones just flawed so ill put up with it#like even if it makes me uncomfortable thats just how some people are sometimes ig i cant do much to change that#i shouldnt judge i have my own flaws that are probably worse actually#but sometimes people just step on your toes sometimes and it hurts but its probably on accident. best analogy i could think of#best to just go 'ow' and move on#and if you step on someone elses toes just do your best to say sorry about it#this went wildly off topic my bad#still i am a pretty toxic arguer ill admit so its best to avoid arguments to stop me from hurting anyone#like it mostly comes from fustration of being ignored/misinterpreted but its no excuse for some of the shit ive said ill be honest#so its best to avoid it so no one gets hurt and because its just not who i want or like. at all
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xjulixred45x · 4 months
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I could't contain myself guys sorry--
Bro, do you realize how scary it would be to have Vox as a Yandere?
just imagine it. You could be one of his workers, maybe too good at your job, because not only do you do what Vox tells you without asking questions, but you also know what to say and what not to say to avoid a "tantrum" from him. or rather, when his insecurities attack with force like when Alastor returns.
Vox would probably be a somewhat condescending yandere (as seen with Val) but don't think you can't turn tables easily, if you stroke his ego enough, you can have him around your finger. but that doesn't make it any less dangerous for those around you.
He makes the typical 180 degree turn in attitude when it comes to Other Employees and when it comes to You. Damn, you may be the only one of his employees who gets paid vacations (or even vacations) or even birthday bonuses, things like that. He likes to give you his things or products with the excuse that "they are for testing" even if they have already been released on the market.
Like:
Vox: who the fuck eat My leftovers!?! WHENEVER WHO WAS I'M GOING TO-
Darling: it was me sir.
Vox:--give You the rest and take You out for lunch, You haven't eaten in the whole day AGAIN, didn't ya?
He definitely avoids conflict with you by hypnotizing you, when he starts to feel hostility, fear on your part or that you want to leave, he makes you "out of nowhere" have "ONE MORE TASK" and you can't help but do what he says.
and IT IS NOT just to avoid fights or for you to leave, it is something CONSTANT (once every two days MINIMUM), although Vox is not worried about your brain turning into mush due to its powers, it always keeps nutritious things in your diet and they come out relatively often , as you have to follow him everywhere.
Eventually he becomes more clingy and needy in this case, it's practically not that he's proposing to you or anything, he's just slowly dragging you into a relationship without you realizing it (because you're not lucid enough). Unless you develop a higher level of tolerance to his hypotonic trick, I don't think you'll notice his Red Flags.
I think it would be ESPECIALLY BAD if Darling is also a Sinner, because then they wouldn't even be able to get out of the pride ring to run away from Vox. leaving you with many fewer options and having to avoid all of Vox's technology, which you could only achieve by 1- going to the Cannibal Legion or 2- going to the Hazbin Hotel.
Running away is EXTREMELY DIFFICULT, not only because of his hypnotic trick, but because he literally has EYES EVERYWHERE, on every screen in hell. If you somehow manage to get away with it and run away, Vox would be SO ANGRY and looking for you all over hell with their screens.
Although definitely if you were gone more than a day, he would be more distraught than angry and would begin to despair. Even Val and Velvet would give him a hand because of how bad it would be.
Just imagine, thinking that you finally lost sight of Vox's search drones, without realizing that you stand in front of some store and VOX ITSELF appears on the screens :)
If you made the stupid decision to go to the Hazbin Hotel, Vox would be distraught and would even think that Alastor was somehow holding you hostage, obviously! Why would you go there if you knew his biggest enemy was there? Alastor must be using you as a bargaining chip! How dare he!?
(in this case, fortunately, the punishment is much less severe, but he would definitely monitor you for the rest of your life)
When he eventually gets you back (after a few days or even WEEKS of anguish) expect, first of all, to be in a mortal embrace that lasts AT LEAST 2 days and then receive your "punishment" which would be to be under hypnosis for AT LEAST 1 YEAR to be sure that this NEVER HAPPENS AGAIN.
Although calm down! He gives your mind breaks periodically because 1- he doesn't know if that would ultimate mess with your head and 2- it's nice to hear YOU talk instead of the robotic version.
When that year FINALLY ends, you will be a much more obedient, more terrified, sweeter version of You, according to Vox, like a frightened Deer. It was a long and hard process, but the good thing is that you don't have to do anything anymore! absolutely! Just do what he tells you and everything will be fine.
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Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!
Not one of the Best yanderes to have, but Def not the worst
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lazerswordweilder · 4 months
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Personally I think the Justice League not knowing Batman had kids would be more bad at social things Batman rather than paranoid Batman and they found out like this:
Justice league, minus Batman: *walks into the meeting room*
Superman: *freezes*
Green Lantern: what’s wrong?
Superman: …Batman. Why do you have three heart beats and why is one of them a cats?
Batman: *throws cape over his shoulders revealing Damian sleeping on his lap and a cat sitting on his lap* this is Robins cat Mr Whiskers
Flash: you have a side kick?!
Batman, confused because he thought they knew: no? I have a team?
Wonder Woman: a team?
Batman: Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Robin, Batgirl, Signal- I thought you guys knew this *pulls out his wallet and pulls 50+ family photos out of that* how did you not? Have none of you pick pocketed me? *the Robins always steal his stuff and he assumes that both his teams do the same things*
Superman: I’m sorry, what?
Batman: how did you not know?
Green Arrow: well you don’t exactly talk about your life
Batman: yeah but you should’ve figured it out, I give figuring out your guys secret identities out as things to do when the Robins are bored. Who did you think looked after Gotham when I couldn’t?
Flash: I thought your power was being two places at once?
Batman: ??? I don’t have powers?
Everyone: WHAT
Batman: I never have?
Superman: how are you such a good fighter then?
Batman: I trained for two decades?
Flash: what.
Green Arrow: wait, why did you call them ‘the Robins’ I thought there were only two Robins?
Batman: well they were all Robin at some point, most of them anyways. Dick was the first Robin, then he became Nightwing. A while after that I found Jason and he became the second Robin, he died and then got resurrected and became a crime boss for a while and changed his name to Red Hood. And while Jason was dead Tim showed up and became Robin, Tim became Red Robin. And Damian is the current Robin.
J’onn: why do you call them by their real names, I know you know everyone’s secret identities but isn’t that rude?
Batman: what do you mean? They’re my kids? I’ve adopted all of them?
Everyone: WHAT
Superman: Wait, circle back. One of your kids got resurrected and is a crime boss
Batman: he isn’t bad, he just isn’t offically part of the team anymore but we still work togther all the time-
Flash: offically? What is there a list on the Gotham police website.
Batman: yes, it can be wrong sometimes though, they thought Batgirl was my sidekick way before I actually started training her. It took me a while to realise I couldn’t convince her to stop crime fighhting.
Green Lantern: you don’t make them when you adopt them?
Btman: NO! She was like 12! I don’t make kids fight! She wouldn’t stop and it would be mroe dangerous to leave her without proper gear or any way to call for help, and I didn’t want Nightwing to fight when I adopted him he chose to himself and when I said no he went out after Zacoo anyways, and I found Jason stealing my tires so he already knew I was Batman-
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distantdarlings · 6 months
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HAVE ME // t. nott
RATING: R / 4.8K WORDS
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Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert
+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* When you are paired with Cormac McClaggen for a mid-semester project, he takes it as an opportunity to shoot his shot. However, despite your numerous rejections, he doesn't seem to want to let up. That is until Theo gets involved.
+ WARNINGS - SMUT, depictions of violence (a small fight, specifically), blood described very briefly, Cormac is hitting on reader and won't leave them alone, language, oral sex (perf. on reader), kissing, dom!Theo, fem reader, not proof-read
+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -
Hotel - Montell Fish
---
The chatter around the classroom slowly dwindled as Professor Snape silently slipped through the door of his office. Everyone was waiting patiently for the results of his decision from yesterday. He mentioned that the mid-semester project would be partnered rather than solo. To you, that was bad news, but to others in the class, it was good. You worked best when you didn’t have to sort out the ideas getting bounced around aloud. But if you had to work with a partner, please let it be someone halfway decent.
“So,” Snape starts, “I have here the list of partners for the mid-semester project. As a reminder, you will be handling very toxic materials, so for the sake of all of our time, be careful with them.” His expression hinted at boredom, despite the unfortunate things he was referencing. Last year, someone nearly lost a hand with this project, and—to be quite honest—that was one of the reasons you were so excited about it. You liked the challenge and, even better, overcoming it. But you couldn’t do that with a shitty partner. Your fingers crossed beneath your open notebook.
“Malfoy with Weasley, Berkshire with Granger,” he began listing the names. Your hips shifted uncomfortably. He was pairing everyone with the opposite house. Surely he’d grant you some mercy with how well you’d been doing in this class?
“—Nott with Finnigan—” Your thoughts were briefly interrupted as Theodore’s name was called. That was an interesting pairing; however, you knew that Potions was one of Theo’s strong suits, and, granted they worked well together, the both of them would successfully keep their eyebrows intact. 
Your eyes found the older boy, tracing over every line on his face. You were friends, pretty good friends. His whole group of Slytherins were friendly with you, really. But there was something about him that had shocked you to your core from the first night you’d met him and started chatting at the Sorting ceremony when the both of you were eleven. He was quite literally one of the most attractive people you’d ever seen, and it seemed like he knew it too. The way he held himself down to the way he communicated with people, he just knew he was alarmingly alluring. 
He had a way of staring right into your eyes when you spoke to him, almost to the point it felt as if he was reading your mind. No matter what, he’d give you his full attention, even more so than his other friends, it seemed. Maybe you had always imagined it, but if you called his name, he was there. He would be waiting with his ear next to your lips, eager to hear what you had to say, no matter how you were feeling. Perhaps it was cliche, but you felt as though you could tell him anything, and you did. 
His eyes found yours suddenly. His lips parted into a crooked smile, his dazzling white teeth peeking through slightly. You returned the action, raising your eyebrows in an amused fashion at his partner for the project. He shrugged, the smile never leaving his face. He pointed at you and mouthed, ‘You’re coming up.’ You rolled your eyes and laughed silently as you brushed him off. You were laughing, but, in all seriousness, this wasn’t a comedic matter. Your Potions grade was potentially on the chopping block here, and you were getting nervous. Snape didn’t grade depending on who did what; he simply graded on the project's legitimacy. You could do this by yourself, but if whomever your partner ended up being fucks it up, you both were screwed. And, on top of it all, you would have to work with a Gryffindor, someone you likely barely knew. Perfect. 
Your name perked your ears as Snape paused for a moment, trying to decipher his own handwriting. Merlin, was he trying to tease you? You glanced around, wondering who hadn’t been selected yet. You hadn’t been paying attention. “Ah! With McClaggen.”
Your heart sank. You turned to glance over your shoulder at the showy Gryffindor sitting in the back corner of the classroom. He sent a wink and a small smirk your way, to which you replied by quickly turning back around. Did the universe hate you? It must. That was the only answer. Shit.
“Get to work,” he instructed, returning to his office and firmly shutting the door behind him. You weighed out the options in your head on how angry Snape would be if you asked to switch partners. You were sure he picked them for a reason…or maybe he didn’t? Merlin, help. Should you even bother with this? Maybe you could convince McClaggen to let you do all the work. He could sit patiently by and be quiet.
The classroom bustled gently as students were standing and finding their partners. Small groans echoed as everyone paired up. Apparently, you weren’t the only one that disliked your partner. Usually, you wouldn’t have expected Professor Snape to have paired Gryffindors with Slytherins. Who knew? Maybe he was trying something new.
You hid a wince and got to your feet. You collected your notebook and school bag and made your way over to the smirking boy. His hands were placed cockily behind his head, and one leg rested, crossed over the other. He maximalized every bit of space he took up, like a peacock. You repressed a groan and sat down in the seat next to him, neatly spreading your things out. 
“Well, hello,” he cooed. “I don’t think I’ve spoken with you before.”
“I don’t think so either,” you chuckled nervously, eyes finding the back of Theo’s head. He sat towards the front of the classroom, partnered with the clumsy Gryffindor. You wondered if he was having the same doubts you were. As if on beat, his head turned and made eye contact with you. He hid a smile at your current predicament and gave you a small wave with his fingers. You rolled your eyes and, with the hand farthest from McClaggen, pretended to choke yourself with it. Theo laughed aloud before turning back around when his partner tapped his shoulder.
“What’s so funny?” your partner asked, quirking an eyebrow. 
“Nothing,” you smiled, “how about we get started?”
Most of the class period was spent discussing the potion the two of you wanted to brew. The assignment was to pick one of the most difficult potions to brew and to make and document the experience successfully. All of the potions you were to choose from were in the very last chapter of your textbook, and the two of you flipped through the pages, unsure. 
Every so often, Cormac (you’d learned his first name was) would point at something on one of the pages and scoot ever so closer to you. He was so close now you could smell the peppermint candy he swished around his mouth. His arm rested alongside the back of your chair, and you were…immensely uncomfortable. Your back straightened so as not to come into contact with his arm. 
Throughout this whole experience, you’d glance Theo looking back at the two of you every so often and wonder if you could signal him to distract the boy. It wasn’t that you felt threatened; you just wish he’d back the hell up. If you had a personal bubble, it had long since combusted. His face was so close to yours, and no matter how far you leaned away, he’d get closer. Finally, you’d had enough.
“Cormac,” you laughed nervously. You placed one hand on his chest and slowly pushed him back toward his own seat. 
“What is it?” he asked. No matter what you did, that stupid smirk never failed.
“You are very close to me,” you explained, trying to remain as polite as possible. He shrugged and chuckled a bit, gaining on some of the space you’d placed between the two of you. 
“Well, that’s because I want to get closer to you,” he said. 
“Uh, no,” you tittered, “that’s okay. Let’s just do the project.” You tapped the textbook and pretended to immerse yourself back in the information, hoping he’d let it lie. He didn’t. His arm wrapped back around your chair, and your eyes slipped close in exasperation. 
“Cormac, please—”
“What? Don’t you want to get to know each other before we do a project together?” he asked, scooting closer yet again.
“No, I really don’t. I just want to get this done.” His face resumed its previous proximity to yours. He smirked at the closeness and you sighed, turning your face away from his, begging Theo to glance back again.
“Oh, I see…is he your boyfriend?” Cormac asked. Your face shot back to his.
“What? No! He’s just a friend,” you said.
“That was a very quick, rushed answer,” he laughed, “but if you say so, that’s even better for me—”
“Please, let’s just do the assignment,” you pleaded, “I’m really not interested.”
“Not even for a trip to Hogsmeade?”
“No, not really, you’re not my type.” You glanced back at Theo. He was finally looking back. Only this time, his eyes were locked on the boy beside you, with his face so close to yours. His eyes gleamed blood red, and his jaw clenched tightly. Your eyebrows furrowed, begging him to intervene somehow. If Cormac wasn’t too embarrassed to shoot his shot in the middle of class, surrounded by his peers, you were almost positive he’d continue to harass you outside of the classroom. Maybe even when the two of you were alone, and he might not let up at that point.
“What is your type?” he asked. “Brooding assholes in Slytherin?” He said this part a bit louder, making direct eye contact with Theo. You could feel the tension building slightly, and did your best to diffuse the situation. You partially blocked their gaze of each other.
“Please don’t say that about him.”
“I thought you said he wasn’t your boyfriend. Why are you defending him?”
“He’s not my boyfriend, but he is my friend, and I’d like you not to call him names,” you spoke sternly, eyes hardening on the boy. He was plucking the last strings of your patience. 
“Fine, I will—” you nodded at his promise “—if you let me take you to dinner.”
The bell signalling the end of class interrupted the conversation. Thank Merlin. You quickly gathered your things together and shoved them into your bag, praying he’d just drop the subject and let you move on with your day. You’d figure out a way to deal with him later. For right now, you just wanted to get your free period started as soon as possible. He stood right when you did. You ignored him and made for the exit, walking as quickly as looked natural.
You were the first out of the classroom and down the hall, trying your best to get away from him without completely abandoning Theo. A hand grabbed your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks. It roughly spun you around, yanking a yelp from your throat. You stood before Cormac, who had a sinister look on his face. 
“You never answered me,” he said. “Let me take you to dinner…”
“No, Cormac, I don’t want to go,” you said, attempting to wrestle yourself out of his iron grip. What about your thousand answers was he not grasping? 
“Let go of me.” His hand did not release you, and it did not seem like he intended to, either. You slipped your hand between his and your shoulder, trying to edge it off. He made a sound of endearment before attempting to slide a hand around your hips. You squealed and squirmed away from him, trying to prevent him from wrapping his arms farther around you.
“Hey!” A voice shouted. The both of you began to turn, but before Cormac could get his head fully pivoted, a hand appeared on his shoulder and yanked him away from you. It was Theo, and he appeared to be fuming. His jaw was tightly clenched, and his eyes were wild.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing, McClaggen?” he demanded. “She said no, you dick!”
“I don’t see how it’s any of your business. She said you weren’t her boyfriend,” the younger laughed meanly, poking him roughly in the chest. You winced at the contact. 
“Don’t fucking touch me,” he hissed, pushing the boy back from him. Cormac stumbled a few steps before regaining his footing. It appeared he was as surprised as everyone else was at the sudden hostility. Cormac laughed cockily. 
He raised a hand and swung his fist at Theo as hard as he could, getting a good hit in. Theo’s head jerked to the side from the force of the punch, and you gasped sharply, hands shooting to cover your mouth in shock. Natural instincts told you to jump back, but you rushed toward Theo, who pushed you back gently behind him, squeezing your arm firmly. It didn’t hurt, but you knew it meant to stay put. 
“Come on, Slytherin!” Cormac shouted. “Show me what your reject house is made of!”
A crowd of other students had begun to gather around the two boys, curious to see what all of the commotion was. Adrenaline pumped through your veins like ice water as you watched Theo approach the other boy, cocking his arms and wringing any stiffness out of them. 
Before you could feel the exhalation of breath leave your body, Theo swung his arm at the boy, cracking him hard across the jaw. As if in slow motion, Cormac fell back and hit the ground with a hard thud. You imagined his tailbone would be quite bruised tomorrow morning. 
Theo fell down on top of the boy, legs resting on either side of his hips, and wailed on him. Fist after fist hit the boy’s face, pushing more and more blood out of him. You screamed in shock as you realized Theo had no intention of stopping. Around the same time you did, everyone else did too. They began throwing shouts of concern and pressing in on the two boys. Everybody loved a good fight now and then but nobody wanted to see someone get killed. 
Yet, nobody put their hands on Theo for fear of being in the same predicament as Cormac currently was. That was, until Enzo and Mattheo ran up behind the crowd. You heard them ask if that was Theo.
“Enzo!” you shouted his name, waving over the crowd. His eyes quickly found yours and in seeing the distress on your face, began weaving through the crowd. Mattheo quickly followed suit. 
When they breached the barrier of the crowd, their eyes widened, and they made for their friend. They grabbed his shoulders and pulled him away from the poor boy, his face a mangled mess. You looked away quickly, not wanting to see the damage that had been done in your favor.
Once pulled away, a gathering of students ran over to Cormac and covered him with a wall of their protection, trying to see if they could help him somehow. You turned to Theo, who was breathing heavily, a single dripping of blood pouring from his nose. You turned to the bottom of your uniform shirt, found the edge of the seam, and tore a small section of it. You could get a replacement sometime later.
You approached the boy with a murderous gaze and gently pressed the piece of shirt beneath his nose. He flinched slightly but never looked away from Cormac. Maybe that hadn’t been for you, and he’d just wanted to beat Cormac’s ass—which is understandable, but still. You weren’t totally sure why he did it.
“Theo?” you spoke gently. His glare didn’t waver. The fingers pressing the material against his bloodied nose tilted his face carefully to look at you. His eyes found yours, softening slightly. 
“I’m sorry,” he breathed, his chest heaving. “I couldn’t stand him touching you like that.”
“It’s okay,” you reassured. He didn’t seem convinced. How he looked at you with such concern and worry made you wonder if he thought you were mad at him. You shook your head at the question running through your mind. Obviously, he didn’t know what you had been thinking, but you hoped he’d understand somehow. 
You helped Enzo and Mattheo pull him to his feet and escort him away from the crowd before any of the professors showed up. Speaking of which, they likely should have been out here by now. 
As you helped the boys guide Theo toward the Slytherin common room, you were careful to avoid any obvious eyes that raced past them to see what the aftermath of the commotion was. Hopefully, nobody would notice them and they could deal with the whole situation later. The group turned the corner and stopped before the entrance to the dorm room. Enzo announced the password, and the lot of you headed inside, pulling Theo up the stairs and into the boys’ dorm room. He pulled away from them suddenly and sat on his bed.
“Alright, alright, I’m okay!” he declared. “I just got a sock to the jaw; my legs weren’t broken.”
“They’re just trying to help, Teddy,” you whispered, trying to place the cloth back on his nose that had started up its intermittent spurting again. He sighed and gently grabbed your wrist, holding it away from his face. He was never rough with you, despite how angry he was.
“I’m fine, I’m just wound up, I don’t need any of you to—”
“Nonsense,” you interrupted him. “Mattheo, Enzo, would the two of you mind running down to the hospital wing and asking Madam Pomfrey if she has anything to stop the bleeding. It’s not excessive, but it’s messy.”
“Is there not a spell or something like that?” Mattheo asked, clearly concerned for his friend.
“Not one that I know off the top of my head. Would you just go ask her, please?” you repeated yourself. The two boys seemed to hesitate but eventually worked their way out of the room with their destination in mind. Once they were gone, your eyes turned back to Theo’s. An amused glint lay suspended in his eyes.
“‘Nothing that comes to mind?’” he smirks. “If a spell comes to my mind and not yours, the world must be upside down.” You conceal a laugh. You knew a spell. You knew multiple healing spells, but you wanted Mattheo and Enzo out of the room for a second. You just wanted to speak with Theo about what had happened. 
“I’m sorry I lied to your friends,” you said. “But I really wanted to talk with you privately, and I didn’t want to wait.” His eyes keep a tight hold on yours. You swallow thickly. 
“Okay, what is it?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. 
Anxiety pools in your stomach as you realize you hadn’t really planned anything to say. You wanted to know why Theo had done what he did and if it was for or because of you. Cormac had been bothering you, yes, but it could have just been that Theo really disliked him and wanted to intervene. 
“Why did you do that?” you ask. Probably the worst way you could have asked that, but it was what came out. You might as well own it at this point. 
“Do what?” he mused.
“Why did you stop Cormac?”
“That feels like a dumb question. He was laying his hands on you without your permission.”
“Would you have done that for anyone, though?” you stuttered through your interrogation.
“I suppose not….why do you ask?” he asked, the smirk never leaving his face. Your eyes fell down to his lips suddenly, noticing that there was a small amount of dried blood stained across them. A small gasp left your lips as you reached your hand out. You didn’t think through any of the following movements; you just allowed your body to do as it pleased. Your fingers gently cradled his jaw, and your thumb swiped slowly over his lips, collecting the bit of staining as it crossed. Your eyes found him again, and you realized he was intently watching you. His eyes were softened by hunger. The way they traveled down to your lips, his lips parting as he found yours, his hands clenching by his side. It sent a chill down your spine. 
“Theo,” you breathed. You could not pull your eyes away from his swollen lips. You wanted so badly to learn their taste and memorize it for eternity. Just one kiss and you could be satisfied for the rest of your days. 
“I kicked Cormac’s ass because he was laying his hands on you, and I have been desperate to do that for years…,” he whispered. “The difference between him and I, though? I ask permission.” A glimpse of a chuckle spreads over his lips, and you feel your stomach blush with heat. As if he could feel it happen to you, his nose bumped softly against yours, igniting the heat and transforming it into a flame. 
“I want you so bad,” he whispered, the air skimming your lips. “Please let me have you.”
“Have me, Teddy.” Your response was final. His hands gripped each side of your face firmly and pressed your lips together. Heat and light and everything in between exploded into your stomach, sending shocks of love into your heart. You could have melted on the spot, and you nearly did, if it weren’t for Theo wrapping one arm tightly around your waist and holding you up.
His tongue slid over your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You granted him access to every part of you with no push-back. All you wanted was to feel him everywhere and never to lose that feeling ever again. 
The both of his hands pushed around the back of your thighs and pulled them to either side of his bent knees. He settled you neatly onto his lap, you straddling his thighs against the bed. The action sent a lightning bolt of pleasure directly to your core as the space between his thighs urged gently against you. You sighed against his mouth, entangling your fingers into his hair. 
Everything about him was overwhelming. His smell, his taste, and his touch had you gasping for air. You had never realized how much you truly wanted him until this very moment. Without so much as a breath, he cradled your back with one hand and stood from his bed, lifting the two of you into the air. You squeaked from the sudden movement but relaxed instantly when he settled you against his bed. 
His lips detached from yours and quickly made alliance with your jaw and then your neck. His head worked down the frame of your body, pressing open-mouthed kisses to every sliver of skin he could find. When he reached the waistline of your uniform skirt, he tapped his finger twice against the spot where your shirt was tucked in. You nodded so quickly, it was almost pathetic. He smirked and slipped his hands between the materials. He tugged your shirt out and began laying the same types of kisses over your bare stomach. You groaned at the feeling, noticing the ardor he placed into each press of his lips. You felt worshipped and it was addicting.
His eyes flicked up to find yours as he slowly pushed himself farther down, placing himself just in front of your core. Without question, your legs began to spread for him, allowing him access to anything he wanted. You just needed to feel him; you didn’t care what he did. 
Your eyes found his face once more and scanned over the entirety of it. A deep, sinister glance rested in his eyes, holstering a lust so dark, it almost frightened you. His lips were slightly parted in a teasing, smirking way, just waiting to place themselves against you once more. And his nose had…oh, it had begun to bleed again. You reached down and swiped your thumb beneath it, pushing the excess discharge away. A small twinge of guilt hit you again at the thought of Theo getting himself hurt for you.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, frowning at the sight before you.
“You never have to apologize to me,” he breathed, “you are perfect.” And with that, he’d flipped the edge of your skirt over your legs and sunk his face between them. His tongue found your core before you could even get a word out. A breathless moan spilled from your lips as your spine arched off the bed. Your hands immediately pushed down to wrap themselves in his curls, savoring every single swipe of his tongue. 
“So fucking good,” he moaned against you, the vibrations sending messages up to your very brain. You quaked beneath the feeling, your thighs shaking against the boy’s hold on them. It was nearly becoming too much. You weren’t going to last much longer. If he wanted to do something, he’d better get to it.
“Theo, I’m…c—”
“Not yet, baby,” he whispered, pressing two chaste kisses to the inside of your thighs. You could feel the wetness spread across his lips and chin smear against your flesh. You shuddered at the sensation. It definitely should not have turned you on as much as it just did. “I want it on my tongue.”
He separates himself from you and slides his hands beneath the crook of your knees. With a firm grip, he yanks you to the edge of the bed, where your hips are lying just over the curve. His hands find your hips and flip you over onto your stomach, careful to avoid hurting you in any way. Ever so gentle.
You could hear him kneel down again behind you. Your thighs shook in anticipation just before he pressed his lips back to you. His tongue swirled across you in the most delicate of motions, drawing every sound possible from your lips. Your fingers gripped the sheets as each of his movements drew you closer to the edge. You might finish any second. 
“Hey-o!” Mattheo’s voice came from just outside the door. You jumped up and glanced back at Theo as the both of you separated as fast as possible. Theo came up to sit beside you on the bed and made quick work of wiping his mouth off on his sleeve. You pulled your skirt back over your legs and stood at attention, waiting for the two boys to enter. Damn it. You had been so close. 
The two boys walked in, clutching a small vial of liquid. Mattheo raised it to show the two of them, both of whom quickly nodded, smiling innocently. Surely, they wouldn’t suspect anything of the two of you. You’d never really expressed any feelings toward the other before now. At least not publicly.
“Where do you want this?” Mattheo asked.
“If you would just take it to the bathroom, we’re headed in there so they can help me clean up the rest of the way.” Both of the other boys nodded and headed back out the way they came, moving toward the group bathroom. 
Just as they left, Theo slipped his hand beneath your skirt and traced his fingers along you, allowing one to insert itself to its hilt. You gasped sharply, trying your best to mute the sound. His hand began to pump against you, slowly rising in speed as he hit that perfect spot each time with ease. The sounds spilling from your lips became less and less controlled as he pushed you towards the edge, keeping you standing tall and refusing to let you lay back down on the bed.
“Come like this, baby,” he whispered. “Quickly, before they get back.” His finger pressed deeply up into you one last time, bruising the soft spot and forcing a rushing finish down on you. Your lips parted in a shocked moan as the proof of your end slipped down around Theo’s fingers. He worked you through the entirety of it, never tiring and never halting. He could do this all day. 
The sound of his friends heading back toward the dorm room pushed the two of you apart once again. Only this time, Theo had a telling, lustful expression imprinted on his face, and the remains of your ecstasy were still painted across his fingers. You swiped a hand between your thighs in an attempt to clean yourself off and brushed any concerns from Mattheo or Enzo off. The ‘Are you okay?’ and the ‘You guys look weird’ had nothing on the steel resolve the both of you kept planted on your faces. If Theo could fight someone for you, you could fight the urge to tell his friends he’d just let you fuck his face while they were out running an errand. Oh well, such is life. You laughed to yourself. 
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chososdiscordkitten · 2 months
Text
Fight Back!
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Synopsis: Play Fighting w/ the jjk men :D
Includes: 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚, 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨, 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚, 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 Content: a sprinkle of nsfw, no sex- just foreplay, manhandling, rough housing,
Dedicated to; this ask.
MDNI
Kento Nanami
Late at night—well after he came home from work, a few hours after dinner—he laid beside you with a book in hand. 
This was always your least favorite part before bed- knowing Nanami could never focus on reading unless it was in complete silence. And silence always made your mind whirr with a million thoughts, but not wanting him to think there was something wrong; You laid next to him- scanning his expression that seemed lacking in interest. 
"How's your book?" you whispered- pulling his focus and flashing his eyes over to you. 
Nanami pulled one of the hands from the book and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Boring." he sighed- eyes strained from looking at the little words. 
Watching him lay his eyes back onto the pages with a soft exhale. You knew once Kento had started a book- regardless of how uninteresting he was in it, he would try and finish it. 
You were the playful one in the relationship, trying to create excitement. You reached for the book, pulling it from Nanami's hands and quickly looking at the little number on the bottom. 
Closing it and holding it to your chest. "You're probably the only man I know who would ignore a woman in his bed for a book." you teased, watching his brow furrow with a soft smile. 
"I'm not ignoring you, honey-" he scoffed with a soft smile, reaching for the book only for you to move away. 
You pursed your lips, closing your eyes and making a feigned thinking noise. "Dunno- feelin' pretty ignored." you hummed, feeling his hand reach for the book again and turning away. 
He rose to his knees and exhaled. "Alright, that's enough—" he smiled, his tone full of endearment. 
You let out a small giggle-sitting up, and moving across the bed. Pressing your back against the sheets and watching his hands reach for it again, only for you to move away. "You want it so bad, take it from me." you giggled.
Nanami scoffed with a smile, accepting your dare. Reaching a hand out again, watching you tip onto your side with the book in hand. "Sooo close, Ken—" his words cut short as he touched your calf. 
Nanami's strong hand yanked you towards him with a soft huff, looking down at you with pursed lips. "Hand it over." he demanded- trying to make his tone sound stern, only for it to come out mixed with a chuckle. 
You planted your thigh beside his bent knee, his hand lightly caressing your calf, slowly raising on your leg. The book pressed against your chest, teasingly tilting your head against the bed. "I told you- Take it." egging him on as you pulled your calf from his softened grasp.  
Watching his jaw clench as he hooked his hand beneath your slightly bent knee, reaching the other to the book only for you to raise it up with both hands. 
Softly landing on top of you with your legs spread. One thigh pinned to the bed by Kento's forearm, the other on the side of his hip. Nanami's face looks up to your hands, giving you full access to his neck. His hips pressed against the back of your thighs with every little reach he made. 
You only giggled- slightly bucking your hips up against him and pressing a kiss to his neck. "Some gentleman you are," you whispered. Releasing the book onto the bed and shoving it further on the bed with the tips of your fingers. 
"Pinning a lady to the bed?" with a smile, placing your hand onto his side and humming against him.
A little laugh left his lips as he relinquished the urge to continue that book. He looked back at you and nodded his head. "It's your fault." he mumbled, planting his forearm next to your head and lightly resting his hips against you. 
Looking into his eyes as he leaned down slightly, you met him halfway. "It's never my fault." you whispered, lips brushing against his with a smug smile.
He gave you his attention instead of his book. Leaving you more than pleased.
Naoya Zenin
You had noticed Naoya spending way too much time on his phone. Anytime you started talking, Naoya would pick up that stupid piece of metal and scroll mindlessly. 
And instead of asking him why, you snatched the phone and ran to your bedroom. Throwing yourself onto the bed and opening it as fast as you could. 
When he stepped in, he reached for the phone in your hands, only to be met with a little kick. 
And with every reach Naoya made, he was met with a swat from your foot. "Give it back-" he huffed- kneeling at the foot of the bed as you scrolled through the apps. 
"No way-" you grinned, "I wanna see what's more important than me." kicking off his hands and shifting away from his grasp. 
That was till his hand finally got a good grip on your ankle- widening your eyes as he flipped you over. Naoya wasted no time sitting on the back of your thighs and planting his hand over your wrist. 
You tried shifting from his grasp as you held his phone with a firm hand. 
With clenched teeth, he leaned over to your ear, squeezing your wrist- "Give it." he gruffed against your ear. 
"What are you hiding?!" you huffed with a smile against the sheets- wholly pinned down and still putting up a fight. 
He only muttered a strained 'Nothing.' 
With every little shift, Naoya's huffs of struggling to hold you down turned softer- his cock brushing up against your ass with every movement you shifted beneath him. 
His breathing was heavy in your ear as he pressed his groin into your ass, "Are you-" you grinned, knowing that all too well the feeling jab at the swell of your bottom. Easing the grip on your wrist- gaining enough strength to push him off. 
Landing on the bed on his back- his cheeks flushed and eyes bordering on forming spirals from how riled up he had gotten. Only for you to straddle his thighs and scroll on his phone again. Softly grinding down onto his erection as you scrolled on his phone. 
When his shaky hand tried to reach for yours- another grind met his hips, along with swatting his hand away.
By the time you had opened every app and every message he had- Naoya was a blushing mess beneath you. Whimpers spilled from his lips as you locked his phone, "There was nothing…?" you muttered- feeling his hands rest on your thighs. 
His hand trying to urge your hips to move- "I told you." he breathed through clenched teeth. 
Pulling your lips to the side and tossing his phone haphazardly, "I guess you did." you smiled, looking down at him and softly grinding down against him. 
Choso Kamo
You had been awake for a while. You had made breakfast and got dressed for the day, but Choso was still in bed. He was too comfy and far too sleepy to even think about getting up. 
From the second you got up, he had been asking you to come back to bed. It was tempting, sure. But the apartment needed some serious cleaning, and grocery shopping had to be done. 
So, as you walked back into the bedroom- eager to make the bed. "Get up." you demanded, reaching for the blankets and watching Choso clutch them even harder. 
"No." he muttered, turning over and ignoring your pulling hands. 
You sighed, tugging the sheets even harder. "C'mon get up—I needa make the bed," you muttered. You went to the side where he was lying and lightly pushed his arm, watching Choso's eyes open and look up at you. 
He opened his arms and made a space for you. "Lay with me," he muttered, watching you purse your lips and reach for the blanket again. 
"It's two p.m, Cho," tugging the blanket and feeling resistance. You were about to tug again, only for his hand to wrap around your wrist and pull. 
Leaving you bent over on the edge of the bed- half your body on top of his as you let out a small laugh. His arms wrapping around you and placing his face onto the crook of your neck. 
Trying to pull away from him- only to be met with a strong hand holding you still. Going as far as lifting your feet from the ground and pulling with your knees on the edge of the bed. 
Completely entrapped by his arms as he refused to let up. 
You tried shifting from his grip- only for his arms to hold you tighter. "Let me-" you tried saying, only to be met with a small nibble against your neck. A small giggle leaving your throat at the tickle. 
Choso carelessly turned over with you in his arms. He hummed softly against your skin as you eased onto the center of the bed, his arms surrounding you with a small exhale. 
Holding onto you tightly and feeling your legs adjust- Shifting in his grasp only for him to hold you tightly. "Lemme get up-" you scoffed, only to be met with a hum against your skin. 
"Can't hear you m'asleep." he muttered against you. The vibrations of his voice rumbling against your skin. 
Lightly placing your hand onto his side and sighing, "How am I supposed to clean if you keep pullin' me back to bed every 10 minutes?" you grinned- easing into his touch and closing your eyes. 
"Don't clean." he hummed, holding you tighter. 
You decided to stop fighting back, resting in his arms. Knowing if you pulled away, he would reel you back in for 'a few more minutes.'
Hiromi Higuruma
Hiromi had this horrible habit of laying on top of you. He was barely changed out of his work clothes and into his pj's. And here he comes- fully prepared to let all his body weight fall onto you. 
Laying on the bed, phone in hand and watching him walk in- shaking a towel on his hair and tossing it aside. You tossed your phone aside with a sigh, preparing for the full weight of the grown man before you to crush you. 
You closed your eyes in a fake grimace- hearing a small laugh from his lips as he eased onto the bed. 
Exhaling a dramatic sigh as he pressed his face onto your collarbone. Fully easing his full body weight onto you. 
You huffed a teasing 'oof' as he snaked his hands beneath your waist. Holding you as you rested your hands onto his shoulders. Using him as a table as you scrolled on your phone again. 
"I never asked- why do you do that?" you grinned, placing your hand on his damp hair and hearing him hum against your shoulder. 
He smiled against your skin, "Do what?" playing coy. 
Smiling teasingly, "Crush me." hearing him let out a small laugh.
"I mean, you're a grown man- knocks the air out of my lungs." you grinned. 
"The day you can successfully push me off is the day I'll stop." he challenged, feeling your hand against his scalp halt its movements and place your phone to the side. 
Mustering all your strength, you started shoving his limp shoulders. Earning a hearty laugh from his lips- if anything, he made his body even more limp as you scoffed. 
You attempted to shift to the side. More of an effort to escape from under him rather than pushing him off.
Hiromi felt your attempts- and instead of helping, he made fake snoring sounds against your skin. Little rumbles tickling your skin, making it even harder to focus. Slightly tightening his grip on your waist as you huffed with a small smile.
Somehow managing to shift down enough to be face to face with him- "Give up yet?" he muttered, looking at your face- still full of determination. 
"You're not making this any easier-" you grinned, shifting your hand down his side. Hooking your leg onto his side- planting your other hand on the bed and gathering all the strength you could. 
Inhaling a sharp breath as you turned yourself over, taking him with you. Leaving you on top and his hips straddled between your thighs. 
Breathing heavily and looking down at him- his cheeks blushed with wide eyes. Confused as to where he was or how he ended on his back. 
Though Hiromi was taller- he wasn't the heaviest to flip over.
You looked down at him as you straightened your back. "I win," you huffed, looking at the man who looked at you with furrowed eyebrows.
"Did you just- manhandle me?" he murmured, watching your proud expression nod 'yes.' 
Hiromi pursed his lips, placing his hands on your thighs and caressing them softly. "I think I liked it." 
Satoru Gojo
While playing a video game in your shared bedroom, you sat up with your knees bent to the side. Gojo sat beside you, watching your attempts to beat the stupid level.
Pursing his lips whenever you would make a move he wouldn't have- "No, you have to-" 
"Shut up-" you muttered, nibbling your lip in concentration as he sighed. 
"Ohmygod-" you winced, watching the little character on the TV die. Muttering a soft "Fuck." as Satoru raised himself onto his knees. 
"My turn." he huffed, reaching for the control only for you to pull away. 
Looking at him with furrowed eyebrows- "It's your turn when I finish this level." pulling the remote from his reach. 
"You've been on this level for 20 minutes!" he scoffed, reaching for the remote again and pulling it from his grasp. 
You scoffed, "It's not your turn yet!" watching as he leaned over you, reaching for the remote you kept pulling away. 
"Just give it- I'll win so fast-" a smug smile on his lips as your bent knees pinned onto the bed- turning your torso around as he placed a hand onto your bottom for balance. 
Every little reach he made- his ground brushing against your core, simulating a position Satoru frequently put you in. "Lemme try one more time-" you huffed pulling the remote away.
That, along with the little shifts his wakening cock made against you, caused Gojo to place his hand on your hip and turn your over on all fours. Well. On your knees, one hand holding up your torso, the other holding the remote from his reach.
"N-no it's my turn." his tone more whiney and desperate. You chalked it up to Satoru being a big baby regarding silly things like this.
A soft grunt left your lips as he leaned over you again, his bulge pressing into your ass and reaching for the remote. A whimper left his lips- feeling flushed and blaming it on the struggle for that remote. 
Your chest pressed against the pillow, the hand holding you up collapsed- reaching back to him and trying to swipe him away. "Get off-" you grunted- feeling his hand wrap around your wrist and pin it to the center of your back. 
Softly bucking his hips onto your ass, the hand reaching for the remote losing its determination and huffing a strained whimper. 
His eyebrows pinched and cheeks a rosy shade of pink. Your wrist tried shaking off his hand- but his grip was too strong. 
You hadn't even acknowledged the familiar bulge pressing against your core in the struggle. You turned your head slightly on the pillows. Peering back at Gojo and wondering why he had stopped reaching for it. 
Gojo's face inches away from yours as your reaching hand holding the remote rested on the edge of the bed. Becoming aware of the jabbing against your warming cunt- only for Satoru to close the small space left between your faces and desperately rut against your bottom. 
Too out of breath and heart racing to think of why- his hips trying to find relief as you grunted against him. 
Closing your eyes with furrowed brows, only for Gojo to reach his hand to yours- taking the remote from your light grasp and pulling away from you. 
Smiling with a triumphant look on his face and letting you go. Easing away from you and resting on the other side of the bed again.
Ignoring his erection and pressing play on the control. You only looked at him with furrowed eyebrows- confused by what had just unfolded. 
Toji Zenin
You stood in the kitchen with him, prepping to make some sandwiches, as your eyes caught his all-too-tight shirt. 
You had been spouting about how you could take him in a fight for the past few minutes. 
His hands in his pockets as he heard you- "I'm a lot stronger than I look y'know," you grinned, placing the pieces of bread onto two plates. Turning to face him with a smug look, "like-" laughing to yourself as you thought up a comparison. 
"Like Mike Tyson strong." you grinned- watching the corners of his lips curl up. A small laugh left his nose- amused at your comparison. 
You clenched your teeth, a low grunt leaving your lips as you punched the air- aiming for his ribs.
Toji watched amused, as you took on a fighting stance. "You'd have no chance against me." you laughed, your fist aiming up- as though you were going to uppercut him. 
Watching him refuse to flinch or fight back. Allowing you to pummel his aura with a smile.
Fighting the air around him with small huffs- making a 'boom' sound every time you threw a punch. 
"M'sure you could." he muttered, tone full of sarcasm and watching you keep throwing hits against the air. Taking a step back and kneeing a few inches away from his torso. 
Your hands determined- aiming various punches around him as he watched you.
Toji huffed a small laugh as you angled your fist to his jaw- slowing your fist and lightly tapping his jaw, clicking your tongue as your knuckles made contact. 
You smiled to yourself as you eased off your so-called 'fighting stance'. Picking up the pack of turkey slices next to him, you turned around with a scoff— "Now, I know you're scared to actually fight me," you smiled, opening the fridge and placing the small pack of deli meat back. 
Scoffing, "I know you'd limp away with your ego bruised, so it's okay." closing the fridge and turning around- pleased look on your face with your eyes closed. 
Blinking your eyes open and seeing Toji in front of you- taking a step forward, caging you between the refrigerator and his torso. "My ego bruised?" he smiled. 
Watching that smug look on your face refuse to falter, only balling your fist into a ball and aiming another false punch at him. 
But his quick hand caught your wrist- gulping softly as his grip tightened. "Fight back." he murmured with a smile, lightly tilting his head. 
Watching your eyebrows furrow with a smirk, trying to pull your wrist from his hand only for it to move mere centimeters. 
"C'mon." he whispered, "You can do better than that." low eyes looking back at you. Slowly coming closer to you with every word.
You furrowed your eyebrows, using your other hand for another punch, only for his other hand to catch it. Nodding his head 'no' and pulling your wrists together. Toji held them in one hand and looked at you expectantly.
You gulped lightly, watching his eyes dim. A smug smile left your lips and formed on his. Whispering, "Fight back,"with a grin, feeling your hands try to pull from his.
An idea pops into your mind. Softening your furrowed brows, lowering your eyelids, and leaning in. Pressing a light kiss onto his lips, his hand eases its grip on your wrists. 
Toji didn't hesitate to kiss you back as he slowly pushed the back of your head back onto the fridge's metal.
Eagerly pressing his tongue against your bottom lip your hands released from his, placing one onto his ribcage and the other slowly trailing down to his bulge.
Keeping a ghostlike touch against his bulge- Toji's keen tongue slipping into your mouth. Completely forgetting what point he was trying to prove.
Pulling away from him and looking at his expression- puffy lips and lightly blushed cheeks. "Fight back." you whispered, smug and amused at how easy it was to get him to let you go.
-
(a.n) Im exhausted, need a cigarette, and cock. gn.
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