#of course they were talking about the guy in front of me

[l0vergirlwrites]

gulity as sin ; eddie munson

synopsis: since eddie joined your friend group, you’ve fallen for him. but sometimes the feelings you’ve harboured for him make you feel guilty—but he’s just too dreamy, so how could anyone blame you?

warnings: sexual innuendos, mentions of weed & alcohol & partying, mentions of sexual thoughts, downbad!reader & eddie, love confession & makeout!!!!

note: i just had to get this out of my system but i’ll write my next ttpd fic based on the winning things on the polls don’t worry!!

“just so you know, you’re staring at eddie like you wanna fuck him” robin whispered in your ear as she came to your side with extra vcr tapes to stack near the back of the store.

“jesus! am i really?” you asked in a hushed whisper, face crowing warm with embarrassment. you couldn’t help it when eddie just looked so good as he leaned on the front counter talking to steve.

while you mentally face palmed yourself, robin gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “just a little bit”

peeking back over her shoulder at eddie to make sure he wasn’t looking at you (because you’re anxious & paranoid), you let out a breath of relief. “you think he noticed?”

she laughed “i hope not”

letting out a quiet gasp, you shoved robin’s shoulder “thanks for the vote of confidence, rob” you said sarcastically.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry!—but seriously…” she paused for moment to create dramatic effect. “when are you gonna fess up & tell him how you feel?”

the big question.

with a big sigh, you shook your head in retreat. “probably never. it’s just some stupid crush—& besides, we’re just friends. i don’t know if he’d like me like that, rob.” you said while getting back to work, trying to get the image of eddie’s ring clad hands out of your mind so you could focus.

“is that really how you feel? or is your fear of rejection speaking for you?”

narrowing your eyes at her, you rolled your eyes knowing she was kidding (but was she? were you really hiding behind a guise so you wouldn’t get hurt?).

“you know,” she paused to look at eddie. “if he doesn’t want to jump your bones, i’d be floored” she said cheekily, causing you to nudge her rib cage.

“he doesn’t” you stated, but in your mind you hated the thought of it.

“if that’s what’ll help you sleep at night” she chided before moving onto a different shelf, the open space letting your eyes drift back to eddie, only to find that he was looking right at you.

“you coming to the party by reefer rick’s place on the weekend? i convinced stevie boy here to tag along—“

“—& to be the DD. i don’t know how i got roped into this” steve cut eddie off with an exasperated expression.

with the spotlight (eddie’s eyes) on you, you couldn’t help but feel stuck in place & your mind was running a million miles a minute.

clearing your throat, you nodded. “yeah sure! i should be able to if keith doesn’t make me come in last minute”

the last sentence caused eddie to roll his eyes.

“who cares about what keith says—you’re coming & you’re gonna have fun! you’re deserving of blowing off some steam, right?” eddie said convincingly.

“he’s right! fuck keith & his stupid last minute shift calls“ robin agreed with steve soon following suit.

jokingly with your hands up in surrender, you finally agreed. “maybe you guys are right…”

“of course we are, babe!”

the pet name eddie called you made your stomach flip in six directions, your face growing warm until steve beat you to speak.

“when the hell did ‘babe’ get into your vocabulary, munson?” he asked eddie with a quizzical eye.

“oh calm your tits harrington—“

“hey man, i don’t have tits & i am calm so shut—“

“hey!” you yelled, shutting them both up. “no bickering on my watch, idiots” you pointed to them both, causing eddie to place his right hand in his heart in apology.

“what do you expect,” robin chimed in. “they’re five year olds”

you both laughed a bit at her comment while the guys just rolled their eyes.

“well, i’m gonna head out & prep for my next campaign. butttt, i’ll see you geeks saturday?” he asked while twirling his van keys around his index finger.

before steve could try to rebuttle against eddie about him calling you all “geeks”, you beat him to it.

“yes—we’ll be there! bye eds” you waved sweetly, your hand flattering when eddie shot you a wink before heading out the door.

as the glass door chimed & shut after his departure, you immediately turned to robin.

“he winked at me!” you mouthed to her with excitement.

“are you guys secretly talking without including me, again?”

turning to steve, you gave him an apologetic look. “she was just fawning over how eddie winked at her” robin said with a nonchalant smile, causing you to gasp.

“robin—“

“why do you care if he—wait… ohhh… that makes sense” he lit up like a light bulb, going back to checking through the return log on the computer.

you stood there stumped at his reaction.

“is me liking eddie predictable?” you asked aloud, causing steve & robin to share a glance.

“yes” they said collectively, leaving you to sigh & turn back to the shelf to finish stacking the pile of tapes.

**~*~**~*~*~**~*~~*~**~*~*~~***~*

it was now saturday, & you were on speaker phone with robin as you were getting ready for the party.

you had decided to wear a short flowy black skirt, fishnet tights, your favourite black boots, & a dark green babytee with your favourite band on it. it was simple, but cute (& you secretly hoped eddie would think the tights were a nice touch).

“do you think you’ll tell eddie how you feel once you get some liquid courage in you?” she asked genuinely.

with a thoughtful sigh, you stopped applying blush to your right cheek. “gosh, rob—i don’t know. i don’t think it’s a good idea”.

you could tell she was shaking her head from the other side of the phone.

“remember when i was too afraid to tell vicky i liked her?”

you knew what she was gonna say. “yes, i do”

“so, you remember how you told me i should just ‘go for it! do it before it’s too late—what’s the worst that could happen?’, right?”

you slumped in your desk chair, fidgeting with your makeup brush. “yes…”

“sooo, you gotta practice what you preach—tell him before you regret it!” she encouraged, but still, you were horrified to.

“what if—“

she shushed you. “no what ifs. don’t do that to yourself—just be honest when the right moment comes along”

staying silent for a moment, you thought it over in your head before coming to a conclusion.

“maybe you are right, robin”

“i’m always right—regardless of what steve says” her words made you laugh, relieving you of a little stress.

**~*~*~~~*~***~*~**~**~*~*~~*

it was now nine-thirty on the dot & you could hear steve’s beamer honking from your driveway, signalling that it’s time to go. as soon as you stepped onto your driveway, you were met with hollers & whistles from your friends in the car—including eddie.

as soon as you saw him with his head out the window, whistling & vocally saying “shit y/n, looking good!”, you could’ve sworn you were going to collapse then & there.

shushing them before their hyper annoyed your neighbours, you (coincidentally) got into the backseat with eddie.

“you have everything?” steve asked before reversing the car.

“yes, dad” you joked before a silver flask was shoved into your lap.

“got you your favourite” eddie told you with a smile, causing you to audibly “awe” & thank him before taking a swing from it.

despite steve having a fancy car, the backseat was surprisingly small, so you knew it was going to be a long night with how your thigh is already pressed into eddie’s & his fingers were tapping his jean clad thigh dangerously close to your exposed one.

you caught him every now & then staring at your tights too, which didn’t help the fantasies brewing in your mind of him taking them off you.

“you excited?” you asked him while steve & robin were caught in their own conversation.

swiping his tongue across his teeth, he looked at you with a gaze that made your stomach tighten. “as long as you stick close by, then yeah i’m excited” he nudged you gently, allowing you a moment to process what he just fucking said.

tucking your hair behind your ears (a sign that you were nervous & liked him & were going insane), you let the conversation drift into comfortable silence as steve turned the radio up.

thank god for that.

**~*~~**~**~***~**~*~~**~**~*

the party eddie brought you guys to was packed at some random house on lover’s lake.

& it reeked of pot & beer, which was normal & expected.

with the flask eddie gave you in your right hand & eddie’s hand in your other (because the front lawn was packed & he didn’t want to lose you), your group maneuvered your way inside to disco party lights, sweaty bodies, more pot & more beer.

your grip on eddie’s hand was taut as you continued sliding past more & more people while muttering “excuse me, sorry!” over & over until you guys arrived on the dance floor.

“do you want anything?” eddie leaned down & whispered into your ear so you could hear over the music.

you took a second to answer because of how warm his breath felt against your skin. “no i’m okay, i got this remember?” you said with a smile, holding up the flask he gave you.

returning you a smile, eddie let go of your hand because robin was pulling you to dance a little.

“be back in five!” eddie mouthed to you, holding up five fingers & looking at you until you waved in acknowledgment.

“okay there’s no way he doesn’t want you” robin yelled into your ear as the song changed & people roared happily.

laughing & shaking your head, you disagreed.

“cmon! let’s just dance, yeah? destress!” steve yelled to you both before bopping his head to the music, causing you & robin to look at each other before laughing & join in.

the more songs played & the more you swing back eddie’s flask, you could feel yourself letting loose a little—possibly even making you feel courageous.

so much so that when eddie returned with a red solo cup with some sort of drink, you slung your arm around his middle for a quick hug.

“missed me?” he yelled in your ear.

“just maybe” you replied, feeling his right hand rub your arm up & down before fetching a joint from his pocket.

“missed me more now?” he asked again, laughing when you nodded your head, eyes glassy from the smoke in the room that was building.

“outside?” he yelled again, & you were the only one that agreed.

*~*~*~~*~~*~*~~**~***~*

departing from steve & robin to go smoke, eddie grabbed your hand once again & kept you close as you both made your way to the back porch that outlooked onto the water.

the backyard was still filled with people, especially jocks who were doing dumb keg games, but you didn’t mind. with your back against the siding of the house & eddie in front of you, caging you in, all you saw was him.

& god he looked hot. his hair was a bit frizzy, but his leather jacket managed to showcase his muscular arms & his slightly cropped band tee allowed you to see the happy trail on his abdomen.

it took everything in your power not to fold then & there.

“you want the first hit?” eddie asked as passed you his drink & pulled his lighter out of his pocket.

with a simple nod, you placed the joint between your lipstick covered lips & leaned forward for eddie to light the end of it for you. the action felt extremely intimate & already hand your skin tingling.

with the joint slotted between your fingers, you took a few hits & relished in the buzzed feeling it already gave you. & knowing eddie & is interest in pot, you knew whatever was wrapped within the joint was the good shit.

while you were taking your hits, eddie was reminding himself to not get hard at the thought of your lipstick rubbing off onto the joint or how you looked pretty with smoke exhaling from your mouth—he could feel his pants start to feel the tiniest bit tight at his view of you.

when you handed the joint to him, eddie stood beside you on the wall & took his time (possibly so you could look at him a little longer?).

& you didn’t care because he just looked too perfect with his head tilted up, the veins in his neck showing in the porch light, the joint rested between his ring clad fingers—you could already imagine yourself getting off to this image of him later—but you reminded yourself to stay cool.

everything was fine! you guys were just friends!

“you feeling okay?” eddie asked, turning to you who was already giving him soft doe eyes.

“better than okay” you smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder because you felt too warm under his gaze.

“wanna get off inside?” you heard him ask, causing you to cough & blink for a moment.

“shit—what did you say?” you looked at him, feeling his hand begin to interlock with yours again.

“i asked if you wanna go back inside—you sure you’re good?”

oh god, now you were hearing things.

“y-yeah, good idea” you mumbled as you followed his lead, holding on tight to avoid getting broken apart through the sea of teenagers & college students.

you only broke apart when robin pulled you in for a hug, hearing her say “it felt like you were gone for ages!”

for the rest do the night, you told yourself to he lost in the music rather than thoughts of eddie munson doing nasty things to you, which was going pretty successful until you felt his breath on your neck again.

“wanna dance?”

& how on earth could you say no?!?!

you let him pull you into his arms, his hands firm on your waist while yours were loose around his neck.

with the pot & other alcohol mixing in your system, you felt on top of the world. especially with eddie’s eyes on you. he’d twirl you around in circles & give you room to dance your heart out with him in your grasp & steve & robin would give each other knowing glances about whatever was brewing between you too.

you felt hot, sticky, & tingly all over your skin (not just because eddie was touching you) so you pulled his head down a bit to yell in his ear. “i’m gonna find a washroom!” & he was leading you around the house to find one without a question.

once you both found one of the third floor of this outrageous house, you pulled eddie in with you & turned on the light, thankful there was a dim setting.

“jesus, that was bright!” eddie shielded his eyes, causing you to laugh as you hopped up onto the counter.

exhaling a sigh of relief, you let your head lean back & rest against the mirror while eddie leaned against the closed door.

“do you need me to like, turn around or something…?” he asked, wondering what you were going to do.

“no—i just wanted to go somewhere quieter. less sweaty bodies”

he nodded understandingly before shamefully looking you up & down, telling himself to not get hard at the sight of you so pretty. you were already falling down a rabbit hole of all the things you want to do with him right now, each more dirty than the next—it would be just so easy for him to take off your skirt & unbuckle his pants—wouldn’t it?

but the guilt started to seep in & make you hide your face to groan in annoyance because why on earth were you spiralling like this?

“is something wrong?” he walked to you, holding your wrists & pulling them away to uncover you.

“just going insane is all” you replied, causing you both to laugh until he reached up to wipe off some of your smudged eyeliner from your under eye. he just needed to touch you somehow.

“guess what an old friend told me while i was getting a drink earlier”

you tilted your head in wonder, staring directly at eddie’s lips as he spoke.

“he saw us walk inside & told me that we looked like some couple from a movie—don’t remember which one though…” he ended with a murmur, too focussed on swiping his thumb on your cheek until you spoke up.

“is that a bad thing?” you asked, suddenly feeling small in this washroom with his hand directly on your skin.

eddie was closing in on you now, & you didn’t want it to stop.

you instantly felt sober now. especially with how each swipe on your skin felt like he was making you his—which was definitely an exaggeration but how could you need feel that way when he was holding you so delicately?

shaking his head ‘no’, eddie’s brows furrowed. “of course not—it’s not a bad thing. i-i just thought it was, i dunno, cute—“

“cute?” you questioned softer than him, a smile in the beginning stages of forming on your face.

was this your moment that robin was talking about? you sure hoped so.

“i-i think that’s the right word” he stumbled over his words, feeling your right hand brush some hair out of his face.

“i think so too”

& then there was comfortable silence.

you weren’t sure how to move forward from here. do you tell him all your feelings for him that you’ve keep hidden in a vault at the back of your mind? do you tell him that you’ve been fantasizing about him for weeks? that he’s the only one that makes you feel so many things?

you wish this part was easier.

“would it be, i dunno, uncalled for if i told you that you’ve been driving me crazy?” eddie asked, immediately unlocking said vault inside you.

“are you serious?” you asked, completely sober now as you pulled his hand away from your face & fixed your posture, eyes locked on his for the answer.

“as serious as the dead” his breath hitched, unsure if he made things worse or misread whatever signs you sent, but before he could apologize your hands were already on his face to pull his lips to yours.

it was a messy, top lip & hungry kiss that you’ve been dying to experience since you first laid eyes on him. & god did it felt right, with his tongue meshing with yours & his hands gripping your fishnet covered thighs as he pulled you closer to his body with aching need.

it was the kind of kiss that tried to convey just how you felt about him, the wanting & lusting from afar, the longing glances & lip bites when he made you feel a certain type of way.

it was catastrophic & heavy but sweet with laboured breaths of beer & smudged lipstick.

“holy shit” eddie breathed out against your lips, chasing him for another kiss because it was just that good but you were smiling & clashing your teeth against his & giggling from how silly it all felt.

“that is why i’ve been going insane” you panted against him, hands falling to grip the cotton of his shirt.

“i’m crazy about you eddie. & it’s not the drugs talking, i promise” you swore, scouts honour.

with his forehead pressing against yours & laugh escaping his lips that had little bits of your lipstick, he squeezed your thighs. “i would hope not, ‘cause i’m really crazy about you too”

you closed your eyes now, relishing in the weight lifting off your shoulders & how his touch felt electric. “eddie” you exhaled.

“yeah, sweetheart?” his fingers were pressing different patterns on your thighs to the point where you asked in yourself if he was writing ‘mine’ across the fishnet material.

“can we do this again tomorrow?” you asked, already longing for this feeling to last.

“i don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon, so yeah, i think we can make it happen” eddie smirked, kissing you quick before pulling back to see your swollen lips.

“wanna go back to the party & surprise the geeks?”

“i’d love to”

& with eddie whisking you from the counter, hand on your hip as he lead you back downstairs, you both immediately saw steve & robin jumping up & down happily when they witnessed you two looking like love sick idiots who finally fessed up.

young love, am i right?

#l0vergirlwrites💌 #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fanfic #steve stranger things #stranger things netflix #fanfic

[f0point5]

i NEED jealous Max. Please 🥺🥺🥺 I love jealous/possessive guys haha the feminism just leaves my body

Me too! GOD. Me, too.

It took me ages to decide how to go about this because I had soooo many ideas but I hope you like it!

✨set during the Miami GP weekend 2022✨

Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush

Max glances down at his watch. 17 minutes. 17 minutes you’ve been standing in the gallery area of the garage, fanning yourself with a magazine - with Max’s face on the front of it, no less - in the Miami heat, talking to some freakishly tall guy in a Louis Vuitton denim jacket and aviator sunglasses. He’s so painfully American that Max wonders what you even have to talk about for…eighteen minutes.

You tighten your high ponytail while Paul Bunyon talks, his mouth wide with every word. Max studies your face for any sign that you’re bored. He’s bored of watching this, but he knows from experience that not looking isn’t a real option. You haven’t looked over at him once in those eighteen minutes, in fact you haven’t even been distracted by the mechanics moving around or the noise of drilling and clattering tools.

This guy must be really fucking interesting.

You smile at something Captain America says and Max feels his jaw clenched so hard he thinks a tooth is going to crack.

It’s like he’s thirteen again, watching you stand in the middle of the makeshift paddock at the karting track, swarmed by every one of his competitors, their parents packing up their stuff as they vie for your attention. He was the only one who stayed away, following his dad’s instructions on how to properly dismantle and store things while sneaking glimpses at the show you were running. He would win every race and still go home feeling like a loser.

It’s different now, of course. He doesn’t take your gregarious nature so personally now, and he can admit he understands what men see in you now, even if he doesn’t feel it. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t trigger something in him to see the way men react to you. It might irritate him less if you enjoyed it, but you’ve long since grown out of that. Now, you expect it so much that you ignore it, and Max has no choice to but to notice it, the same way you’d notice a rusty knife embedded in your side.

“You’re not listening to me, are you?” GP says, which snaps Max out of his calculations.

“I’m listening,” Max says, fiddling with the brim of his cap. “Drive fast, win race, I got it,”

GP frowns at his dismissive tone, and Max makes a point of looking at his water bottle, lest GP realise what actually had his attention. “Max, you need to focus. What are you even-“ It’s the sound of your laugh - high pitched over the deep bass of the music - that makes GP look across the garage. His features twist in disapproval as he turns back to Max. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”

Max looks down at his shoes, moving his foot as he inspects them. “What?”

Above him, GP groans. “I’m not going to say anything about the situation as a whole, because it’s waste of my time. But specifically now, she’s right there, she’s not going anywhere. Can we please just go through this once and then you can carry on staring?”

Max rolls his eyes, steeling his face as a cameraman enters the garage. He’s wearing a Red Bull shirt so Max doesn’t mind too much, but he can’t be captured looking as morose as he feels. The cameraman pans past him and onto you and the guest. Max watches you cringe as the guy throws up some hand sign to the camera, clearly at home with the media attention.

“Who even is that?” Max asks, unable to hide his rancour. He’s probably going to be forced to take a picture with Popeye later.

“I don’t know, some American football player?” GP says with a shrug, giving Max a helpless look. GP couldn’t give less of a shit about the celebrity guests touted around the gargae, and normally Max is his ally. “Are we done?”

Max nods, but not even a second later he’s looking again. It gets worse the more you talk, he can see this guy becoming more enchanted by the second. He wonders what kind of steroids they take in American sports leagues because the meathead is acting like a dog in heat. He leans towards you at an angle that is wholly unnecessary, his eyes fixated on your mouth, nodding too emphatically at everything you say.

“My God, why doesn’t he just lick her face,” Max says incredulously, more to himself than anything.

“Max,” GP sighs.

“Come on,” Max implores with a scoff, stopping himself from outright gesturing in your direction. “Look at him. That’s embarrassing,”

GP fixes Max with a deadpan expression. “Right, but you being sulky and jealous is the height of cool?”

“I’m not jealous.”

And he isn’t. Because Joe DiMaggio over there doesn’t have anything he wants. He’s not going to waste time being jealous of a guy getting half an hour with you when he has cats, and a home, and a life with you.

Finally, you look in his direction, but only because GP calls your name. “Can you come here?”

You give GP a thumbs up and excuse yourself, trotting over to Max without a second thought. Wannabe Tom Brady brazenly enjoys the view, and Max swears he hasn’t been that close to punching someone since Monza last year.

“What’s up?” You ask, slotting yourself between the two men as you lean back against the shelf.

GP hands you his phone. “Beat this Candy Crush level for me, would you? Been stuck for days,”

You look at him skeptically, but years of being filmed up close by cameras on the pit wall have given GP a hell of a poker face; he just stares back at you, and you give up with a huff.

“Men are hopeless,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“Couldn’t agree more,” GP says, his eyes pointedly on Max, who can’t even defend himself.

Desperate to avoid GP’s scrutiny, he glances over at the gallery, only to find the Yank looking at him. Well, not him, you. He’s got that curious expression as he assesses you fiddling with GP’s phone, one that says he’s trying to understand if he has something to be worried about. He doesn’t. You’re not his to worry about.

“Here,” Max says, pulling off his cap. You barely look up at him before he puts his cap firmly on your head, holding it steady with one hand while pulling your ponytail through the hole at the back with the other.

The brim of the hat obscures half your face, and Max turns so that half your body is shielded by his, which he tells himself is in case a camera comes by.

“It’s sunny,” Max shrugs in his own defence, when he notices you looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

You adjust the cap on your head but don’t take it off. “Why don’t you just give me your letterman jacket?”

“My what?”

“Never mind,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him as you pat his chest with an indulgent smile.

He takes the opportunity at the sound of a large wheel gun to glance over at the gallery, only to meet the eyes of the guy you were talking to. Now that you’re no longer next to him, Max does sort of recognise him. He plays for some team named after an animal. Max just looks at him - he’ll do this all day if he has to - until the guy shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out his phone, starting to tap away. Yeah, go back to Raya.

Good riddance, Max thinks to himself as he turns back to you, only to find that you already looking at him. He wonders for how long.

He can tell by your smirk that he’s been caught. If he’s honest with himself you caught him five years ago, this was just one of the few moments he let you know it. And you know it. How could you not know?

He thinks for a second that you’re going to tease him, but you don’t. You shift on your feet so that some of your weight rests against his arm, and go back to playing on GP’s phone.

“Go on, GP,” he says, fighting a smile at the large number 1 on the brim of what is now your hat.

He knows from the way GP is looking at him that he’ll get an earful about this later, but right now, he just clears his throat.

“Right, so,”

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine

[blarshwritezz]

Could you do a Yandere Jock reaction when his boyfriend tries to leave him?

Absolutely! Considering this a part 2 to my last Yan Jock, if that's okay! Also it'll probably be a bit short, sorry

Yandere Jock x Reader p2

M yan x M reader

TW - general yandere bahavior

"I just can't do this anymore!" You pushed Yan!Jock off of you. For the past week since he he drugged you and fucked you in the bathroom, he's been extra touchy. "We're over!"

Gasps and murmurs surrounded the two of you. Could this be? Were you really breaking up with him? But why? You were nobody without him.

You turned to walk away, but he grabbed your arm roughly, yanking you back to him. "Come on now, I know you're a bit grumpy, but that's no reason to break up. Let's talk about this."

A cover up. Of course he acts all innocent in front of this crowd. It was obvious by his bruising grip around your wrist. If you didn't know any better, you'd almost think he simply didn't know his own strength.

"Don't touch me! Just leave me alone!" You struggled to get out of his grasp, but his grip only tightened. He dragged you away from the crowd to some where more secluded before slamming you against a wall.

He was pissed.

"I don't care anymore if you tell everyone all that shit about me! Just stay away from me!" You were trying to stay brave, but your slight trembling was apparent. How could you not be nervous? This guy's biceps alone were like bowling balls, not to mention the rest of him imposing frame.

"I don't think you get it...you're mine now. Even if I have to take you home and lock you up, I'm not letting you leave me. You don't have a choice." He kept his voice low as he spoke in your ear.

He suddenly grabbed your jaw roughly, making you look at him. "So when I say I love you, you tell me you love me too. When I tell you to bend over and pull your pants down, you do it like a good boy. I've been lenient with you...don't make me get more strict."

"Now...I love you, darling." He looked at you expectantly, his grip on your jaw tightening enough that you thought he may break it.

"I...love you too..."

You couldn't do it. Not this time...

And tadaaaa! Pretty short, maybe a teensy bit rushed, but I think it's alright. Right?

#blarsh writes #x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere #male x reader #yandere x you #anon ask #yandere x darling #yandere x male darling #male yandere x you #x male reader #male reader #male x male #male yandere x male reader #male yandere x reader #male y/n

[mclennonlgbt]

Paris in John and Paul’s life

30th September 1961:

“John and I went on a trip for his twenty-first birthday. John was from a very middle-class family, which really impressed me because everyone else was from working-class families. To us John was upper class. His relatives were teachers, dentists, even someone up in Edinburgh in the BBC. It’s ironic, he was always very ‘fuck you!’ and he wrote the song ‘Working Class Hero’ – in fact, he wasn’t at all working class. Anyway, one of John’s relatives gave him £100 for his birthday. A hundred smackers in your hand! That was a real windfall. None of us could believe it. To this day if you gave me £100 I would be impressed. And I was his mate, enough said? ‘Let’s go on holiday.’ – ‘You mean me too? With the hundred quid? Great! I’m part of this windfall.’” - Paul McCartney, Anthology

“We planned to hitchhike to Spain. I had done a spot of hitchhiking with George and we knew you had to have a gimmick; we had been turned down so often and we’d seen that guys that had a gimmick (like a Union Jack round them) had always got the lifts. So I said to John, ‘Let’s get a couple of bowler hats.’ It was showbiz creeping in. We still had our leather jackets and drainpipes – we were too proud of them not to wear them, in case we met a girl; and if we did meet a girl, off would come the bowlers. But for lifts we would put the bowlers on. Two guys in bowler hats – a lorry would stop! Sense of Humour. This, and the train, is how we got to Paris. - Paul McCartney, Anthology

“And Paul and I also did the same thing, once. We just cancelled. We’d made it, in Liverpool. We were making good money, for those days. I can’t remember what it was – maybe a couple of hundred dollars a week – but enough that you’d have a little extra. You’d have it in your back pocket. And Paul and I just— A relative of mine gave me a hundred pounds, for my birthday, which I’d never seen that much money in me life. Paul and I just canceled all the engagements, and left for Paris… And George was furious, because he needed the money – to work, you know. But that was another time when the group was in debate as whether it would exist or not.”  - John Lennon, 1976, an interview with Elliot Mintz

“Last night I heard that John and Paul have gone to Paris to play together – in other words, the band has broken up! It sounds mad to me, I don’t believe it…” - Stuart Sutcliffe, Anthology

“We’d never been there before. We were a bit tired so we checked into a little hotel for the night, intending to go off hitchhiking the next morning. Of course, it was too nice a bed after having hitched so we said, ‘We’ll stay a little longer,’ then we thought, ‘God, Spain is a long way, and we’d have to work to get down there.’ We ended up staying the week in Paris – John was funding it all with his hundred quid.

We would walk miles from our hotel; you do in Paris. We’d go to a place near the Avenue des Anglais and we’d sit in the bars, looking good. I still have some classic photos from there. Linda loves one where I am sitting in a gendarme’s mac as a cape and John has got his glasses on askew and his trousers down revealing a bit of Y-front. The photographs are so beautiful, we’re really hamming it up. We’re looking at the camera like, ‘Hey, we are artsy guys, in a café: this is us in Paris,’ and we felt like that.

We went up to Montmartre because of all the artists, and the Folies Bergères, and we saw guys walking around in short leather jackets and very wide pantaloons. Talk about fashion! This was going to kill them when we got back. This was totally happening. They were tight to the knee and then they flared out; they must have been about fifty inches around the bottom and our drainpipe trousers were something like fifteen or sixteen inches. We saw these trousers and said, ‘Excusez-moi, Monsieur, où did you get them?’ It was a cheap little rack down the street so we bought a pair each, went back to the hotel, put them on, went out on the street – and we couldn’t handle it: ‘Do your feet feel like they are flapping? Feel more comfortable in me drainies, don’t you?’ So it was back to the hotel at a run, needle and cotton out and we took them in to a nice sixteen with which we were quite happy. And then we met Jürgen Vollmer on the street. He was still taking pictures." - Paul McCartney, Anthology

“Jürgen had a flattened-down hairstyle with a fringe in the front, which we rather took to. We went over to his place and there and then he cut – hacked would be a better word – our hair into the same style.” - John Lennon, 1963

Interviewer: I heard you took a trip to Spain before once, didn’t you? On Holiday? Paul: I didn’t go to Spain, no. I tried once to make Spain but… and John and I were gonna hitchhike. We hitchhiked down from Liverpool… We didn’t hitchhike. No, we got the train down from Liverpool ‘cause we thought we won’t hitchhike down the first bit. And we got the boat over to Paris. Then we got the train into Paris ‘cause we thought: “Well, it’ll be too hard to get a hitch here”. And we just stayed in Paris all week. And eventually… I mean, all the time trying to get out of Paris and make Spain! We never made it, we just flew home at the end. What a lazy hitchhiking Holiday!

“The thing was all the kissing and holding that was going on in Paris. And it was so romantic just to be there and see them even though I was 21 and sort of not romantic. But I really loved it, the way the people would just stand under a tree kissing. And they weren’t not mauling at each other, they were just kissing.” - John Lennon

"John’s 21st birthday was a month away, and he knew he was getting money — 100 pounds cash, more than he or Paul had ever seen in their lives. (…) Bob Wooler was party to their planning, and fought with them:

They were bored, and decided they would go away for a month. I thought this was disastrous because they would be away from the scene too long and lose their fans, Fans were very capricious: they moved from one group to another. And anyway, what about the other two members, George Harrison and Pete Best?. What about them, what do they do? We argued a lot about this — we argued in the back room of the grapes pub to a large extent —- and they said ‘Well, we’ll go away for a fortnight only’

(…) Equally, the promoters who paid the Beatles over-the-odds to present them every week had to “lump it” (….). To a man, and woman, they were incensed by it - but John and Paul hadn’t a care. They didn’t mean to be rude about it but basically it was tough shit.

it was tough too on Dot and Cyn, Dot simply had to accept the situation, but Cyn had a greater case of grievance. John was heading off without her when he could so easily gave waited for the art school holidays. (…).

That John was taking Paul, no one else, accentuates the renewed closeness since Stu quit The Beatles. They were the Beatles force, an unstoppable and authentically powerful pair. “Lennon had the attitude”, Wooler said, “and taking his lead from Lennon, McCartney could be similar. At times they reminded me of those well-to-do Chicago lads Leopold and Loeb, who killed someone because they felt superior to him. Lennon and McCartney were superior human beings”

"You’d always see them together, in the pub or walking along the street", says Johnny Gustafson of the Big Tree. "They were a duo, and seemed each other’s equal". Bernie Boyle, the young lad hanging around with them at every opportunity, says, "They were like brothers, with John as the elder and Paul’s mentor. They were so tight it was like there was a telepathy between them: on stage, they’d look at each other and know instinctively what the other was thinking"

They were brothers. They were the Nerk Twins, and now they were taking a break from The Beatles and gofin off to Spain. 

Gustafson happened to bump into them the day they left, Saturday, September 30. “They both had bowler hats on, with the usual leather jackets and jeans. They said they were off to Paris, so I walked down to Lime Street station and watched them go. They were an incredible pair: always great fun, irreverent and so close. - Mark Lewinsohn, Tune In: The Beatles: All These Years (2013)

As was written in this post: That last picture is one Paul took of John sleeping in Paris. From what I remember of a performance he did of ‘Here Today’, and earlier comments, this picture hangs framed on a wall in Paul’s house.

Unconfirmed quote (may or may not be true): 

"He must have been fond of me to spend that money. He let me have all the banana milkshakes I wanted.”  - Paul McCartney

In January 1964, only a few scant weeks before the Beatles took America by storm, the band mates settled in for an extended stay in Paris. For the group, the Parisian visit proved to be a magical experience, with the Beatles playing 18 shows at the Olympia Theatre between Jan. 16 and Feb. 4 (source).

The photo Paul took of John (in the "Eyes Of The Storm" book):

1969:

Hoping to get married in France, John Lennon and Yoko Ono flew to Paris on this day [16th March].

The couple had decided to marry on 14 March 1969, two days after the wedding of Paul McCartney to Linda Eastman; whether it was in response to this event on some level is open to conjecture.

On McCartney’s wedding day Lennon and Ono were travelling to Poole in Dorset, where he introduced her to his Aunt Mimi. During the journey he asked his chauffeur Les Anthony to go to Southampton to enquire about the possibility of the wedding being held at sea, on the cross-channel ferry to France.

(source)

“On March 12, Paul married Linda Eastman at Marylebone Register Office in London, amid scenes of hysterical grief from his female fans. None of the other Beatles was present. The news reached John as he and Yoko were driving down to visit Aunt Mimi in Poole. Yoko’s divorce decree had become final a few weeks earlier, and, in a resurgence of Beatle copycat, John told her they, too, must get married as soon as possible” - Philip Norman, John Lennon: The Life (2008)

"We chose Gibraltar because it is quiet, British and friendly. We tried everywhere else first. I set out to get married on the car ferry and we would have arrived in France married, but they wouldn’t do it. We were no more successful with cruise ships. We tried embassies, but three weeks’ residence in Germany or two weeks’ in France were required." - John Lennon

1974:

“After a late lunch, Linda launched into a long paean to the joys of living in England. When she was finished, she turned to John and said, “Don’t you miss England?”

“Frankly,” John replied, “I miss Paris.””

— May Pang, Loving John (1983)

1978:

Wings album "London Town" is released. It includes the song "Cafe on the Left Bank", the lyrics of which clearly refer to John and Paul's trip to Paris.

Late 1970s: John is singing to Paul about Paris in a home recording.

1994 - Paul inducting John to Rock and Roll Hall of Fame:

“And then on your 21st birthday you got £100 off one of your rich relatives up in Edinburgh, so we decided we’d go to Spain. So we hitch-hiked out of Liverpool. And we got as far as Paris, and decided to stop there for a week. And eventually got our haircut, by a fellow named Jürgen, and that ended up being the ‘Beatle haircut’.”

I also remember watching an interview with Paul about his album "Memory Almost Full" (2007). Thank you for adding, @ringompreg!

(it's like 7 minutes in) Interviewer: There is a very beautiful song called "The End Of The End", the way you talk about your whole ending, and the lyric goes: "It's a start of a journey to a much better place." You mean, better than England? Paul: It's basically a start of a journey to France. Or Spain through France. Yeah, that's what it is. It's a much better place, Paris.

Also worth mentoning:

"All You Need Is Love" begins with La Marseillaise.

"Picasso's Last Words (Drink To Me)" contains French-language speech by BBC broadcaster Pierre Le Sève.

#mclennon #mclennon is real #mclennon anthology #paris #frankly i miss paris #may pang #yoko ono #linda eastman #the beatles #gay #bisexual #france #insane #compilation #master post #Youtube

[pit-and-the-pen]

I’ll Crawl Home to Her- Prologue

A/N: Prologue for a reader x Azriel fic I've started writing. The events from under the mountain are told from the readers' perspective. There is some dialogue from the actual book so all of that, and the characters of course, belong to Sarah J. Maas.

Quick Flip to Azriel's POV somewhere in the middle because I wanted to.

Warnings: Cannon Typical Violence.

Word Count: ~4k

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this series! I'm already working on the next part and have the rest of the series planned out!

Forty nine years. Forty nine years away from my court, from my friends. The only thing that has let me keep a semblance of my sanity was that I was here with my brother. Rhys. As selfish as it was, knowing he was here helped me from going out of my gods damned mind. 

I laid in the room I had been assigned, bandages wrapped around my chest covering the latest punishment from Amarantha for my backtalk. She had made some vile comment about Rhys and when apparently threatening to rip her tongue out and nail it to the wall had not been the right thing to say to her. Wincing as I rolled over onto my side, I would do it over again just to know that I got under her skin. There were very few ways to have any semblance of fun here and antagonizing that bitch, much to Rhys horror, was worth every cut and bruise I had received. 

A knock on my door interrupted my thoughts. All I could do was weakly call out for them to come in, anyone that bothered to knock was most likely safe. I pushed myself up into a sitting position and was met with Rhys’ violet eyes staring at me. 

“I thought we talked about this.” He all but growled at me. I shrugged, biting down the pain that flashed through me. 

“You should see the other guy.” Trying and failing at keeping the shake out of my voice. That earned me his signature glare. 

“Try that again when you can sit up on your own.” He sighed, walking over to the edge of my bed. He put his head in his hands. “You can’t keep doing this. She’s going to kill you one day over some stupid comment.” I had never heard him this scared before. Guilt sunk like a stone in my heart.

“I’ll try to be better. It’s just so hard when I hear her talk about you like that,” I sighed heavily, regretting it at the ache in my lungs. “She can do whatever she wants to me. But you. At least I can pretend I can protect you from her.” We both know that was the furthest from the truth. If she didn’t have the tendency to call for Rhys longer when I spoke back, I would fight back more. But I refuse to allow my brother to suffer more because I can’t control my temper.

We both just sat in silence. I could feel my back desperately fighting to heal itself. It would still be a few days until it healed fully with the bits of my powers Amarantha had stolen. But anything felt better at this point and it was enough for me to finally let my shoulders sag. 

Rhys stayed until I started to doze off. The adrenaline had finally worn off and I felt the tiredness in my bones. He pressed a small kiss to the top of my head as I curled up in the middle of the bed. I let my eyes flutter closed and drifted off to dreams of anywhere but where I was. 

✦✦✦

A gasp left my lips as the attor dumped the poor girl onto the floor before the dais. Still wearing a thin nightgown she must have fallen asleep in. 

“Bring him in.” Amarantha called wicked delight practically dancing around in the throne room. I felt the faint pressure of Rhys’ hand against my arm as they dragged Tamlin into the room kicking and screaming. As soon as I felt it the touch was gone. 

When he was situated beside the red head, she asked, “Is this her?” Tamlin froze as he surveyed the shaking figure in front of him. His shouts died in his throat and he didn’t respond to her question. At the lack of an answer she repeated the question to my brother. 

“Yes.” 

That was all it took for Amarantha to lash out her powers. My ears rang as the girl in front of us started to scream. Rhys’ whole body went tense besides me. The all too familiar feeling of his power pulsed around us and I didn’t even what to think about the torture she was being put through. Rhys’ powers in his own hands could be deadly but in hers they became something far worse. 

I tried to hold back the bile that raised in my throat. Tamlin didn’t so much as flinch, keeping that firm mask but there was something. Just a small tick in his right eye that hit me like a ton of bricks. Whoever this female was, this wasn’t the girl Rhys had seen in the spring court. Anger surged through me. Of course, a random human life wouldn’t be enough to get a reaction out of the High Lord. I wasn’t entirely sure how he would have reacted if it even was her. Maybe I was expecting just a glint of those claws, itching to sink them into the soft flesh of Amarantha, but he stood fae still. The rise and fall of his chest was the only indication he was anything more than a statue. 

The hours dragged on. If this went on any longer I knew I was going to puke, I already knew the moment I moved again it would happen. Slowly, the screams started to ebb and I knew Amarantha was reaching the end of whatever fun she was pulling from this. With the lack of reaction from Tamlin, I knew she was growing bored. I released a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding the moment the girl, Clare, had finally stopped screaming. My head was pounding at the tension in my shoulders. And I could feel the slow healing wounds in my back roaring in pain. 

“You’re all dismissed.” Amarantha called plainly. I didn’t need to be told twice. It took all my restraint to not run from the throne room. I felt Rhys walk behind me, stopping ahead of me as I paused behind a pillar. He didn’t look at me as I rose, just handing me a handkerchief as I went to wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. I muttered my small thanks as I took it from him. 

“Are you…” 

“Don’t even finish that sentence.” I groaned at him. I closed my eyes but quickly opened them when I realized that I could still see her sitting there on that dais, still smelling the coppery tang of her blood in the room. My stomach curled again but I swallowed the feeling down. 

“It’s over. Our one chance is gone.” Rhys said plainly. My eyes darted around at his bold words. It’s one thing to talk about this in private, in our minds where no one else could hear us. But in the halls, with everyone vying for the chance to earn Amarnatha’s favor. It was as good as a declaration of treason. He said nothing else as he started walking again and I was never so thankful to not hear my brother's voice 

✦✦✦

I had never felt horror like this in all my years under the mountain. My eyes grew to the size of saucers as I heard her speak those daming words, “I’ve come to claim Tamlin, High Lord of the Spring  Court.” 

My head snapped to Rhys, the horror frozen on his own face told me everything I needed to know. Panic surged through me. Selfishly not for the human in front of me but for my brother. She would not allow the action of lying to him to go unpunished. I reached out for his mind but he pushed me out so violently I almost gasped. 

My mind was racing so much that I missed most of the exchange that was happening in front of me. I caught bits and pieces but I couldn’t string together a coherent thought let alone try to follow along with Amarantha’s scheming. 

My heart was beating out of its chest as I caught up with the turn this conversation had taken. A riddle. You solve the riddle, and his curse will be broken. Instantaneously. I won’t even need to lift my finger and he’ll be free. 

I flinched when I heard her voice ring loud and clear in the room. “Give her a greeting worthy of my hall.” My hand went to hold back Rhys as we both heard the sickening crunch of bones echo in the silent room. 

✦✦✦

If I could have kissed Feyre on the mouth, I would have. As it was, I had to hold back the laughs that threatened to rack through my body as Amarantha stood stock- still in front of her. The bone Feyre had thrown at her feet sticking straight out of the ground. Pride racked through my chest because I knew if I was in her shoes I would have done the same thing. Except I wouldn’t have missed. Maybe if we managed to survive all of this, I would offer her training. I shook my head at the ridiculous thought. I knew that if she survived this, I would never see her again. I spoke into my brother's mind but he seemed far away when I risked a glance over to him. In perfect form, Feyre held Amarantha’s stare before she turned on her heel and walked out of the throne room. For the first time in a long time, I felt a kernel of hope. 

✦✦✦

Rhys had officially lost his damn mind. He must have. That was the only explanation for the sight currently in front of me. Feyre dressed in black glossimer, a dress that would have made me blush to wear. But it wasn’t the dress that held my attention, it was the swirling blue-black mark that now rested on her hand. A bargain. What had Rhys promised her in exchange for the position she was in currently. I started to walk over to my brother, having half a mind to pull him from the room by his ear and cursing him out for bringing her into this viper den before I saw her freeze in front of Tamlin. Much to credit, she didn’t let her chin dip once during Rhys’ and Amarantha’s exchange. I truly questioned both of their sanity before I heard Amarantha dismissing the two. I didn’t want to think how much this little stunt would cost Rhys in the long run. The pair slinked to the back of the room, everyone's eyes trailing over them. Watching to see what Rhys was up to. He handed her a goblet and after a few moments of what looked like a very heated discussion, Feyre downed the cup of faerie wine. 

Shit really hit the fan after her third glass. I watched the pink flood her cheeks and her eyes glass over. Rhys pulled her onto the dance floor and I decided I had enough. I walked out of the room. Refusing to watch her body move against my brothers. Realistically, I knew what state she had been in when she walked out of that last challenge. I knew what my brother had offered in return for her actions right now. And I knew from the way that the smirk didn’t reach his eyes that he was not enjoying himself at this moment. For whatever reason, he was protecting her from the consequences of healing her. 

Eventually, I heard the music from the night fading away and I knew that the party must be over. It would be another few hours before Rhys would slink into my room to lick his wounds. When he did show up, the berating words I had planned died in my throat. It could wait for later I decided as he sat down in the center of my bed. I never spoke first. I let him decompress as he needed to. Sometimes we would never say a single word and I was perfectly content to just let him sit in the room with me. I had long given up on reading books here. But he was sitting in my room, the sound of the crackling fire filling the quiet space. If  I closed my eyes hard enough, I could pretend we were both back in Velaris. The rest of our family loudly argued over some trivial joke. My mind wandered to what they were doing at this moment. 

✦✦✦ Azriel POV

Azriel still doesn’t know how he has lasted this long. Mor and Cassian sit with him, the silence that has lingered around the townhouse for the last 48 years sits even heavier today. Heavier because Mor had said Rhys’ name, had said your name. And he felt the hole in his chest stretch just a little further, ripping itself open again. He had long stopped trying to listen for the all too familiar voice in his head, a power you and your brother both shared. But he couldn’t help it as the pair next to him were talking once again about a plan to get the two of you back home. 

If he let himself think about it too much it was going to tear him apart. The terrified part of him that would spiral if he thought about how he might never get to hear your voice again. How he would never get to see Rhys smile. He longed for those stupid fights they would get into more than anything in the world right now. 

Azriel will never forgive himself for telling her where her brother was heading that day. What use was the spymaster when he couldn’t see that stoney determination on her face as she turned and walked away from the too?. He should have known from that one look what she was planning to do but he and Cas had both been called away later that day on separate missions. He didn’t even get to say goodbye to either of them. What hurt the most was the simple message he received later that day from Rhys. Don’t come after us, stay in Velaris. The reminder that if all of the inner circle left Velaris’ centuries-old protections would be lost was the only thing that kept any of them put. It didn’t stop the hope that there was a way out of this but as the years dragged on it was hard to think of new ways. 

As Azriel started to tune the now fighting pair around him out, he felt his shadows swirling around him. Letting the turmoil that was his mind show to his family. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Cassian placed a firm hand on his shoulder but knew better than to try to say any words of comfort, they had all been long spoken and neither of them believed them anymore. 

✦✦✦

Days passed, and every night Rhys would parade Feyre around the throne room for everyone to gawk at. And every night I would tuck away in the corner until I could sneak out early. 

The second challenge came and went. Feyre getting one step closer to breaking this curse. I kept the kernel of hope tight to my chest, refusing to truly accept it until it happened. Maybe not even then. I found myself dreaming more and more about life in Velaris once we got out from under the mountain. Hope wasn’t supposed to survive down here but in spite of myself, I trusted this human girl to be the thing to save all of us. It was an unfair burden to place on her shoulders. 

The night of the final task snuck up on all of us. Everyone was called to the throne room as usual but something was different. This was it. Feyre would either survive and it would all be over, or she would fail and it would be over anyways. Rhys and I had spent the night in silence, the only sound was me sobbing. I didn’t know whether it was out of fear or relief. 

Feyre was marched out, flanked on either side by attors. As if she would try to run now. 

“Two trials lie behind you,” Amarantha let her voice ring around the room. The room was so silent you could hear a pin drop. “And only one more awaits. I wonder if it will be worse to fail now- when you were so close.” I tried to steady my ragged breaths. I caught eyes with Rhys and saw my own horror reflected in those violet eyes. 

“I love you. No matter what she says about it, no matter if it’s only with my insignificant human heart. Even when they burn my body. I’ll love you.” And from her words, I knew she meant it. Somehow this brave, selfless girl managed to fall in love with Tamlin. The cruel words I once screamed at him flickered into my mind. The person who ever truly loves you will be the most miserable person to ever exist. I meant it but looking at Feyre, I know that could never extend to her. Not after all of this, not if she managed to pull this off. 

Tamlin didn’t respond to her declaration of love and I realized how angry I was for this girl. He couldn’t break that mask enough to say it back to her. She was looking death square in the face for him and he didn’t have the decency to say a word back. 

Movement in the corner of the room caught my eye and my eyes went wide as three faeries with bags covering their heads were marched in. My stomach lurched when I saw that ash dagger brought in behind them. She was going to have to kill them. A life for a life. When I looked back at Feyre, she looked truly horrified. Horrified at Amarantha’s reminder that they were all innocent. 

Slow as a fae, Feyre took a step on shaking legs in front of the first figure. I saw the tremor in her hand as she reached for the dagger. Her skin turned a ghostly white as the hood was ripped off of the male in front of her. I closed my eyes, turning my head away. I couldn’t watch, couldn’t listen to the pleas of the male in front of Feyre nor the members of his court as they now recognized him. I heard a loud sob from Feyre and the sickening crunch of something cracking through bone and I knew she had done it. Tears ran down my face. I had killed people before but doing it in this setting, for this reason. I could only imagine how much this would cost her. 

I couldn’t turn to look for the second death. I only muttered along with the desperate prayer I heard her whisper. Let me fear no evil. Let me feel no pain. Let me enter eternity. The most sacred prayer to our people. I fought the urge to reach out with what little of my power was left in my body to turn her pain off. To take her mind away from the death that was looming right in front of her but I couldn’t reach out. It was like my power was stuck in my body. Coward. It screamed at me when I reached for it again. When I heard the splatter of blood, I knew it was too late. One more. 

The words that were spoken by Feyre were enough for me to snap my eyes open. “Not…Not fair.” She choked out. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rhys blanche. I felt like my own air had been ripped from my lungs as she just stared at Tamlin. She paused over the ash dagger. Freezing. I could see the gears turning in her head as she tried to find any way out of this. The whole room seemed to be holding their breath as she stood silent and still. 

I heard Tamlin suck in a breath as Feyre went to reach for that last dagger. Her whispering “I love you” was enough to bring more tears to my eyes and I couldn’t find it in myself to look away as she plunged the ash weapon into the center of his chest. 

Tamlin cried out in pain and I heard the clatter of metal against the floor of the room. It was as if an earthquake cracked through the room. When I looked at the dagger, I saw the bent tip. A heart of stone. The words pulled themselves from some deep part of my mind. The final part of the curse that Amarantha wouldn’t have known about. Something even I had forgotten about until it was staring me in the face. Feyre must have figured it out.

“She won. Free them” I couldn’t stop the words as they tumbled out of my mouth. And my heart threatened to completely stop as she turned to face me.

“I’ll free them whenever I see fit.” 

Feyre seemed frozen to her spot when Amarantha turned back to her. You. I’m going to kill you. I didn’t stop the scream as I heard her bones crack. Time seemed to freeze around us as I was stuck, unable to look away and unable to move. I vaguely heard Rhys scream Feyre’s name over and over. Couldn’t process his movements as he went to collect the ash dagger and lunged at Amarantha himself. He went flying against the wall was what broke me from whatever had paralyzed me. I was over by his side before I even knew I was moving. I tensed my whole body, ready to protect Rhys with my life as she screeched at him, at Feyre. 

Feyre was dying. I could sense it in the air. Could feel her fading away. The world seemed to completely freeze as she whispered. Love. The answer to your riddle is love. Her final words before the sickening sound of her spine snapping filled the room. 

All hel broke loose in the throne room. The masks of spring court citizens fell to the ground and I felt my long- missing power flow back into my body. I stared down at my hands in disbelief. I could barely hear the cries of Amarantha as she pleaded for her life. I didn’t spare her another glance. She would be someone else's problem. I rushed over to the girls' side. Ignoring Lucien and the other High Lords that started to surround her. Each opened their palm to drop a small glittering substance onto Feyre. One by one, the high lords all repeated the action. Rhys placed a hand on my shoulder as he did the same. Tamlin was last. And we all held perfectly still as we stared down at the broken girl in front of us. When I looked up at Rhys the pain in his face was enough to make me start crying again. 

Feyre gasped as she sat up, blinking heavily. She looked down at her arms and I saw the realization crash over her face. High Fae. The points of her ears and slight shimmer of her skin would make it impossible to deny. That was all I needed to see. I pulled my brother into my arms and rushed us out of the room. I hugged my brother for the first time in as long as I could remember. I crushed him as tight as my arms would allow me. I sobbed as I realized what this meant for us. I reached out my powers. They practically purred as I was finally able to use them again. I reached into the minds of my family for the first time in almost fifty years. 

We’re coming home.

#azriel acotar #acotar #acomaf #acosf #acowar #rhysand #feyre archeron #cassian #azriel fluff #azriel spymaster #azriel #azriel angst #acotar fanfiction #acotar series #acotar x reader #sarah j maas

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part thirty-one

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.6k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: heyyyy ttpd has got me fucked up and ALSO guess who heard from her ex for the first time in years?? that's been so dope and not at all causing me to spiral over the last like week :) anyway missed this series so here.

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

"You didn't have to come." You whisper in the dark, the open window doing very little to illuminate the room without the help of the stars.

"Yes I did." Lennox answers you, matching your hushed tone. You roll onto your side so you're facing him, smiling slightly. Sejanus had given you both your own rooms, but rarely did a night go by where you didn't miss sharing that mattress on the floor with your brother back home.

"Did Sej have to convince Ma to let you come?"

"He didn't ask me to come." You feel the pillows shift as he shakes his head. "He told me what was goin' on, and I said I'd be on the next train and that was that." He pauses, chuckling to himself. "I appreciate you havin' your meltdown on the last day of the month, by the way. Was awful convenient for me."

"Yeah, me too." You giggle. "How was your Halloween?"

He shrugs, tucking his hands behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling. "It was alright. Same old."

"Did you do a costume this year?" You ask, already knowing he didn't. Apparently sixteen was too old for that- he was too "cool" for that now.

"Nah." He laughs. "You?"

"Yeah." You whisper, your smile dropping slightly. "I was Juliet, Tigris helped me make it."

"I'm sorry, but that means nothing to me." He chuckles, looking over at you.

"Well, it was an angel costume. We made the wings, and Coryo was supposed to be Romeo. We made his too. I was real proud of it, he was 'sposed to be a knight." You explain.

"But he didn't wear it?"

You just shake your head.

"Prick." Lennox mutters.

"He actually... ruined it on purpose." You whisper. "Poured red wine all down the front."

"Why the hell would he do that?" Lennox frowns. "I mean, I coulda' told you that guy was an asshole, but that's just cruel."

"It was my fault." You admit. "I didn't tell him that couples costumes were a thing until the day of. I didn't give him a choice, and I should have asked if he was okay with that."

"No... No, Y/N/N, don't do that." You feel him shake his head again, dragging a hand down over his face in frustration.

"Don't do what?"

"Blame yourself." He states. "You coulda' asked, sure, but I can't think of a problem he could possibly have with it. That's, you know, actually a valid reason."

"You know how they feel about us here, bug." You say softly, reaching out to push his hair back for him from where it had been pushed down on his forehead. "Sej has never really fit in, and he's been here ten years. I can't expect to walk in and have everything be perfect. Of course he's going to be a little embarrassed."

"But you can expect someone who's supposed to love you to be willing to prove it." Lennox says frustratedly. "You taught me that. So don't go changin' on me now."

"I would never." You smile slightly. "But... real life is different. Real love is different, I think."

"Real love shouldn't be embarrassing." He mumbles. "Not that I know a thing about it, but I think he's an idiot. I mean, I'd wear a matching costume with you tomorrow if you asked. I'd do anything for you."

"I know you would." You smile sadly. There are a few beats of silence between you while you remember all the signs you missed. Coryo telling you the school was strict about physical contact, causing you to turn a blind eye to other students kissing or holding hands in the halls and him hugging Clemensia that very same day. Him telling you to give him space when your only crime was standing too close. The only times he would hold your hand in public being in the backseat of their car or under a desk or table, hidden from view.

"He's lucky to have ya. Hell, we all are." Lennox says after a moment. "If any of these stuck-ups had any humanity they would treat you just the same. I'm not here to convince you to come home, but I think you're better off with us. That's all. At least at home, you're treated normal."

"But I'm not." You reply. "Not anymore. I might as well take this chance to get an education, so I can get a good job and go home and provide for you guys. Dad could retire instead of workin' himself to death in those mines, and Ma would never have to patch another pair of coveralls for as long as she should live. You could do whatever you wanted, bug. You could go to school too if that's what you decide. I could buy you a house, a bike, anything you want in the world."

"That's great and all, but I don't give a shit about that stuff anymore." Lennox tells you honestly. "As long as you're... alive, I guess, we're happy just the way things were. We talked about it a lot. That we'd give anything just to have you back."

A smile twitches on your lips. "I get it." You agree quietly. "But if I can get something for all of us out of having to go through... all of that, I'm gonna take it. Then we can all be together and all the better for it."

"For how long? Until one of us gets hitched and has kids, and then in twenty years we're sending them back here to go through the same shit you did?" He argues. "It's all for nothing. We just gotta make the time for each other while we can."

You chew on your lip, sick at the mere mention of your kids possibly getting picked. Or, god forbid Lennox getting picked in the last three years his name is entered in the reaping, and the number of entries increasing with every passing year. "I suppose." You agree. "But, can you keep a secret?"

He smiles at the familiarity as he looks over at you. "You know I can."

"Coryo is gonna be the next president. I'm sure of it." You whisper. "He's sure of it, too, it's all he's been raised for."

"Forgive me for not feeling reassured by that fact."

"No, but you should." You insist. "He's... He's a good man. He knows how to do the right thing, and I'm sure he'll call off the games one day. He has to."

You can hear your brother's sharp intake of breath. "If he's got you, he will." He mumbles in realization and you nod slightly.

"I think I'll be able to help. To actually do something good if I stick with him." You whisper.

"That's... a lot of pressure." Lennox agrees. As of right now, Coriolanus Snow is far from in his good books. 'If he was, I'd burn my library.' He recalls you laughing over the line in the book, recounting it to him just a couple of months prior. He wants to see you like that again. Happy. Yourself. But if you have to throw that away to save a future of who knows how many children, would that even be worth it to him? He feels guilty for thinking that it wouldn't.

"I love him, Len. I do." You assure him, somehow seeming to track his thought process. "I just don't know... If he truly feels the same way about me. I thought he did, when we were back home. When he came to Twelve, he was different than he is here."

"That's not fair." He replies quietly, deciding that now would certainly not be the time to bring up the fact that if you did end up marrying the future President of Panem, that would mean there would be no "coming home" for you. This, here, a city that tore you apart and left him to try and pick up the pieces, would be your home. He knows that as much as you love him and your parents, you're too noble to give up the chance to spare his children from your fate. He wants to hate you for it, but he never could. "That you have to defend him at all, I mean. You deserve to be angry sometimes, Y/N/N."

"It's fair." You smile slightly. "I just... I was so sure he was the one for me. You know? He cared about me when no one else did, he risked so much for me. You can hate him all you want, but that doesn't change the fact that he saved my life."

"That doesn't mean you owe him your love."

"I know that." You whisper, lips pursed in thought as you pause to figure out what you want to say. "But I think I would love him anyway. More than anything, I feel bad that I put him in this position."

Lennox shakes his head abruptly. "You didn't do anything. He made this decision, that apparently he wants you here, so he shouldn't be "embarrassed" of you, or whatever. Not at all."

"I don't know what to do, bug." You admit quietly. "I don't want to leave him. I don't want him to leave me behind now that the Games are over and done. I feel like for a while it was like... like I was a shiny new toy. And now I'm not clean and fun anymore."

"You really love him?" He asks, and you nod. He sighs, rubbing his eyes. "Then I can't believe I'm sayin' this, but you've gotta talk to him."

You open your mouth to speak, a small smile forming on your lips at his acceptance despite your nervousness about seeing Coryo again. "But don't let him off the hook yet, just let him plead his case." Lennox adds.

"I have to, bug."

"You're too forgiving." He replies, understanding but still disappointed. "I don't want to see you hurt."

"If I couldn't forgive, I would be ruined."

Coriolanus doesn't know what to do other than to go and get you before school come Monday morning. He hadn't heard from you, but Tigris insisted that you just needed your space. So he left a little early, the brisk air chilling him as he stepped outside the apartment building where their car was waiting.

He jumps nearly a foot in the air when he hears his name.

"Coriolanus Snow, fancy finding you here." He abruptly turns to look at the boy leaning up against the cement pillar only a few feet away.

The smug smile on your brother's face at his own joke is only mildly off-putting.

"Lennox. What are you doing here?" Coryo asks, clearing his throat and quickly readjusting the front of his coat. He knew your family- he knew he shouldn't be shocked that if you called, your brother would come running. Now he's just realizing that this didn't mean anything good for him.

Lennox shrugs as he steps away from the wall, a toothpick poking out from the corner of his mouth as he chews on it. "Sejanus called on Halloween. Said Y/N was having a tough time, and what kind of brother would I be if I didn't come to help?"

"That's very kind of you." Coryo states, eyeing him carefully. "So, you've been with her then?"

"Mhm." Lennox nods, smiling proudly as he not so subtly sizes up the boy in front of him. "Should we talk in the car? Wouldn't want you to be seen with me." He winks, flicking away the toothpick before brushing past your boyfriend to let himself into the backseat.

The blonde boy swallows, rolling his eyes before climbing in after him. "You going to school?" Lennox asks, already playing with the switches that roll up the windows and adjust the seats.

"I was going to pick up Y/N. She has class at the same time."

"Oh, she's already there. She got a ride with Sej this morning." Lennox states. "So don't worry, we wouldn't want her to be an inconvenience for you."

Coryo sighs, rubbing his head. "Listen, I don't know what they toldyou, but-"

"Oh, no. You're gonna listen to me now." Lennox cuts him off, suddenly serious as the car begins to move. "I don't know what you want from her. Not anymore. I had a pretty good idea when you showed up at our home unannounced, but clearly, that wasn't enough for you. So, correct me if I'm wrong, but you kidnapped her, right-"

"I didn't-"

"Yes, you did. As I was saying, you kidnapped her, but why?" Lennox shakes his head, eyes wide with genuine confusion. "If you don't want her, if you treat her like she's a burden to you, or that you're embarrassed of her, why would you bother? Was it just to break her again, because The Hunger Games didn't do a damn good enough job?" He hisses, fists clenched together like it was all he could do to not take a swing at him right now. "'My tribute gets touchy when she drinks'... Are you kidding me? You did this to her! All of it! I don't think it's too much of her to ask for you to care when you promised that you would!"

Coryo flinches a bit as his own words are thrown back at him, looking down at his lap in nothing more than shame as it fills him slowly from head to toe.

"It's not like that, Lennox. Not at all." Coryo settles on, shaking his head. "She is the furthest thing from a burden to me. I know it's hard for you to believe, but I want her to be happy. I want to help her."

Lennox looks down at his lap, the act of 'protective brother' crumbling to pieces over the back seat as tears brim at his eyes. "Then why would you take her away again?"

Coryo is shocked by this, eyes going wide as he stares at him. No longer was Lennox only your little brother who puffed his chest and rolled up his sleeves at every given opportunity to take a stab at your boyfriend, he was just a kid. A kid like you, who was completely torn apart by the games even though he had never set foot in the Capitol until the day before.

To Coryo, Lennox looked like he would have made a strong competitor in the same games; had his name been chosen. He was cocky, normally, and that was something that could be made into the spectacle that Dr. Gaul wanted. He would have no doubt done well. Coryo recalls you talking endlessly about your brother before the Games, and he remembered meeting him in Twelve and thinking that he was nothing like what he expected from the way you spoke about him. Gentle. Kind. Selfless.

From his limited interactions with the boy, Coryo only saw anger, distrust, selfishness. But knowing that he had to stand by back in District Twelve and wait for the news of his sister's death, maybe even watch it live, Coryo can now see that not only did it anger and scare him, but it traumatized him almost as much as it did you. The boy sitting next to him was nothing more than a kid who had lost his best friend. Who lost his sister.

"I..." Coryo stammers, waves of realization hitting him like he's run into a brick wall. "I had no choice." He says quietly to spare the driver's ears, and Lennox snaps his head back up to look at him.

Long gone was the sadness that told the story of who he had been while you were here fighting for your life a few months ago. Now, his eyes were ice cold, red from the tears that he didn't let fall.

"You're gonna have to explain before I tear every piece of that strangely white hair from your big head, Coryo."

Subconsciously, Coryo reaches up to make sure his hair is still styled the way he had just done it before he left as he swallows. "You know what happened to that peacekeeper?" He leans closer to say it so they won't be heard.

Lennox is scanning his face for any sign he could be lying. "And Billy Taupe?" He prompts him, the sad look flickering back in his eyes for only a moment. You had told Coryo about the relationship your family had with the Covey children, he hadn't even considered how your brother would handle the death of one of his closest friends without his big sister there to help. He lost you both in one night- that couldn't have been an easy pill to swallow, especially when he had only just got you back.

Coryo nodded slightly, looking up quickly to make sure one more time that the driver wasn't watching in the mirror.

"She was there." He explains it in as few words as possible. "And I knew if anyone found that out, if anyone saw her, the finger would be pointed her way."

"Did you kill them?" Lennox asks quietly.

Coryo shakes his head. "No, but I did hold one of the guns. She's the only reason I didn't. She wouldn't let me."

"Who did?"

"Spruce, I think his name is, but I shouldn't be telling you any of this."

Lennox gives him a solemn nod. "It's fine. I'm the one who hid the guns. Spruce brought them to the house and I ran everything out to the lake that night. Was sleepin' like a rock when Y/N/N came to pack all her stuff, I'd only been home for an hour or so." He explains, wiping a hand over his face as he remembers making that familiar hike in the dark. "They got Spruce, he was done the next day but I promise they'll never find any evidence connecting to you guys."

Coryo nods, internally sighing in relief.

"It's all secrets, now." Lennox adds, and Coryo knows what he means by that.

"What kind of secrets will she find at the bottom of the lake?" His own question is echoed back to him, but now he knows the answer.

"But if I knew it coulda connected you, maybe I would have left them somewhere more obvious."

Coryo doesn't expect the small smile that forms on your brother's lips. It was a threat, but first and foremost it was a joke.

"I'll be honest, I panicked." Coryo admits. "I couldn't just leave her there not knowing what would happen to her. I had to keep her safe, and bringing her back with us was the only way I knew how."

"I coulda protected her." Lennox insists, but the shake in his voice indicates that he knows that isn't necessarily true.

"I know." Coryo agrees anyway. "And I know it sounds like I'm lying to you but I mean it when I say I just want to help her. To give her a better future."

"Maybe," Lennox's jaw tenses and he slightly shakes his head. "But that doesn't mean you can treat her like she's nothin' to you. Especially if you actually care about her, which I am still skeptical of- for the record."

"I do." He assures your brother. "It's just... I don't expect you to understand but it is extremely complicated. There's a lot of pressure on me to keep the impression that our relationship is... professional."

"The hell you mean, 'professional?' She loves you. She loves you more than she should and you don't deserve that from her. Even if you saved her life, she doesn't owe you anything."

"I know." Coryo says again. "You're right. I won't deny that, but I need you to trust me when I say that everything I have to do, I'm doing it for her- so the Games didn't just chew her up and spit her out for nothing. She saved my life- and all I have to repay her with is my name. So I'm trying my hardest to do that."

Your brother is quiet for a moment. "Do you love her?"

"Yes," Coryo answers without a moment's hesitation. "More than I ever thought it was even possible to love another person, and I've known that since long before she ever set foot in that arena."

When Lennox doesn't reply, staring at him and trying to decide whether or not he believes it, he continues.

"I risked everything for her to win. I gave her that scarf, the rat poison, I even put something of hers into the snake tank so they wouldn't hurt her even if they caught her." He explains. "I was told before the reaping that if we cheated to help our tributes, we would have no shot at any kind of viable future but when it came down to it I didn't even consider another option because I could not live in a world without your sister."

Your brother's eyes soften as they find his again, a subtle nod indicating his understanding.

"She's... she's like a book whose pages I never tire of turning. I love her more than I could ever explain to you, Lennox. Please, even if you never trust me again, trust me right now." Coryo pleads. "I would never want to hurt her, and the fact that I have is killing me every moment she is not here."

Lennox straightens up, looking out the window as the university campus comes into their view. "I think she's the one who really needs to know that. Don't you?"

Coryo looks out the window, nodding in silent agreement and chewing on the inside of his cheek as the car comes to a stop for him to get out.

"By the way," Lennox says, that smug smile returning to his lips. "You spend too much time with my sister. 'She's like a book whose pages I never tire of turning'." He mocks his voice, using finger quotations to make his point and polishing it off with a scoff. "Never say anything like that again, Coryo. That's corny, even for Y/N."

Coryo laughs slightly. "Noted." He agrees, pushing the door open.

Armed with the information that you did still love him and maybe your brother wouldn't be hunting him down just yet for hurting you, he heads into the building looking forward to finding you for lunch.

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okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

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#tbosas #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #tbosas fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #thg #thg fanfic #thg fic #thg series #thg fanfiction #coriolanus snow #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus x you #coryo snow #coryo x you #coryo x reader #snow lands on top #snow x reader

[tgmsunmontue]

More than movie magic... 17/?

Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries. So is Bradley.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN

Chapter 16 is pretty much the only explicit chapter (so far), so you can skip it if you like, but it's not explicit by my standards, and it's very soft/tender.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

              There’s an annoying buzz and he knows it’s not his alarm, because he very carefully ensured that all four of them were turned off last night before going to the barn and meeting Bradley. It’s not stopping and he wonders if maybe Bradley has an alarm set, but Bradley’s glaring at the ground, specifically the pair of pants holding the phone that’s vibrating and he groans. They’re his pants, so it’s likely his phone ringing.

              “I just want to ignore it,” Jake mutters, letting his head thump back onto the pillow.

              “At least get it and turn it off. It’s not even seven,” Bradley says, pushing him slightly, but still kissing his shoulder and it’s clearly a promise for something if he hurries back to bed and he rolls out, reaches for his hastily discarded jeans and pulls out his phone. The front screen is lit up with the image of Karina and if she’s calling this early it’s potentially not a good thing.

              Fuck.

              “Sorry, it’s my PR manager. I better take this.”

              “You want me to go?”

              “No. No, not at all,” Jake says, giving him a quick kiss before sitting on the edge of the bed and Bradley rests his hand on his thigh, fingers running through the fine sprinkling of hair, and it wavers between ticklish and turning him on and he has to ignore it either way, thumbs over to answer the call.

              “Hello? Karina?”

              “Yeah. Hi. Morning Jake, sorry for the early call, but I left it as late as I could. Would have called earlier, but well, was trying to figure out how far the photos had spread.”

              “Photos?” Jake asks, because there aren’t any photos he can think of that would make Karina need to call him so early, and she’s in California, it’s even earlier there.

              “Yes Jake. Photos. You know, you’re meant to be one of my easy clients.”

              “What are you talking about?”

              “Photos got leaked of you dancing and kissing a guy. Now –”

              “Not just a guy. My boyfriend,” Jake says, turning to Bradley to ask the silent question with his eyebrows. The smile he gets back is all the answer he needs. “It’s fine.”

              “Oh. You couldn’t have given me a heads up?”

              “It’s like… two days old? Three I guess?” Jake asks, rubbing his eyes before dropping his hand to cover Bradley’s one, although he turns it and links their fingers together. The reassuring touch makes the tension melt out of him before it even has time to build, Bradley shifts and wraps his arms around him, legs also stretching to be either side of him and he lets himself lean back into his solid warmth.

              “Oh great. Then I’ll go for the whole invasion of privacy thing –”

              “No. No… you don’t need to do that either. My entire family were there. It was probably one of them that took photos and posted it to their Insta account or something. Just. Confirm I’m in a new relationship with someone and I’d like people to respect our privacy going forward.”

              “Okay. I can do that. Do I get a name?”

              “I don’t want his name coming out until he says it’s okay.”

              “Of course.”

              “It’s Bradley Bradshaw.”

              “Oh.”

              He’s not sure how to interpret that single word, but then she’s telling him she’ll handle it and hanging up on him and okay, so today is going to be a shitshow for her, but he’s far away from it and can probably ignore everything for a few days. He twists his head to try and meet Bradley’s eye.

              “I’m sorry… I didn’t want you to get caught up in all this.”

              “Were you planning on me being a secret?”

              Jake frowns.

              “You think I dance with people like I danced with you in the hope that it’ll stay a secret?”

              “You think I let famous people dance with me like that with the expectation that it will be a secret?”

              “Yeah. Okay. Point taken. But there’s a difference between wanting to protect you from media scrutiny and keeping it a secret. You’ve met my parents. Everyone here probably thinks we’re sleeping together…”

              “We are sleeping together,” Bradley states.

              “They might think it’s only sex.”

              “Well, then they’d be wrong. Jake… they’re going to dig shit up on me. I was a child actor, my parents both died when I was young. However I was raised by two people who guarded my privacy like hawks…”

              “Two people?” Jakes asks, doing a double take.

              “Yeah. Pete and his partner…”

              “Pete Mitchell has a partner?”

              “Yep.”

              “That private huh?”

              “Yep. You’ll meet them soon enough…” Jake isn’t an idiot, knows Bradley is being deliberately vague with the pronouns, although they could just prefer those pronouns of course.

              “Jake. I knew what I was signing up for. Media circus and all. If it bothered me that much I would have said something, or simply stayed away from you. But I’m right here. And I’ve got no plans on going anywhere.”

              Something uncurls inside him, because knowing that upfront is a relief, although he knows Bradley could change his mind, or simply get over it, being the center of said media circus.

              “Also, while we’re having this conversation, they’ll dig up my net worth and all the people saying I’m a gold digger will have to shut up.”

              Jake twists further around to stare at him, because that’s surprising. Bradley just grins, presses a kiss to his shoulder and Jake keeps twisting, pushing back until Bradley is lying on the bed and he straddles him, places his hands on his shoulders and Bradley just looks up at him, smug and arrogant like he knows what he just said is going to annoy Jake and he’s done it on purpose.

              “You’re kind of an asshole.”

              “I grew up in Hollywood, when you think about that, then it’s a miracle I’m as normal as I am.”

              “Yeah, I guess you’re right. What is your net worth?”

              “I don’t know. Probably more than yours.”

              “Really now? You don’t know?”

              “Meh. I don’t care. But I’ve been around a lot longer than you, and I’ve had people managing my money very carefully for longer than you’ve been in the business.”

              “But you work…” Jake says.

              “So do you. I work because I love my job. Not because I have to. It’s why I can afford to be picky about the jobs we take.”

              “You took this one.”

              “Well. Yeah.”

              They just stare at each other for a few beats and Bradley shrugs and Jake lets out a pleased laugh and sprawls over him, kissing him and feeling like everything will be okay.

              “I’m not going to be reading the press okay? Let alone believing any of it or letting it bother me. If I have any issues with anything I’ll raise them directly with you okay?”

              “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

…           …           …

              He has to leave Jake, there are no spare clothes and his shirt is definitely not fit for wearing, so he’s going to have to walk back to the bunkhouse shirtless, which is definitely not ideal but he refuses to be embarrassed. Of course, when Rueben lets out an ear-splitting wolf whistle, drawing attention he has no choice but to flip him the finger, but Jake has people. Well. His mom. She’s bringing him a change of clothes, and Bradley might like Aunty Kaye but he is not hanging around naked in bed. He’s also not accepting the offer for her to bring him clothes either, no matter how kindly the offer was made. Especially with how Jake’s apparently sensitive all over and it looks like Bradley left no stone unturned last night. Or this morning.

              It’s still early, and while he’d have very much liked to spend the day in bed with Jake, it’s still a workday, the filming schedule tight and he’s meant to be on set in thirty minutes to oversee Rueben, Natasha and Jake carry out some corralling. He showers quickly, scrubbing himself clean and steps out to his phone ringing, toweling himself dry with one hand as he accepts the call.

              “Hey Mav.”

              “Bradley. Hi. You okay?”

              “Yeah. Of course,” he says, pulling his underwear on with one hand, swapping over hands holding the phone so he can wiggle a little.

              “Uh. Really?”

              “Yeah. Really. Why?”

              “Oh. Just. There are some photos circulating. Have you seen them?”

              “Oh. You’re ringing about those. It’s fine. I don’t need to see the photos. I was there. It’s fine. Nothing we’re hiding.”

              “Oh.”

              “Yeah. Oh indeed,” Bradley says, and he knows Mav can probably hear his smile.

              “He… he doesn’t drive you absolutely mad?”

              Bradley laughs, because Jake doesn’t drive him mad at all, drives him to distraction maybe, but not mad. He puts the phone on speaker and sets it down, continuing to get dressed.

              “Nope. Well, not in the way you’re thinking. He’s… God Pete. He’s sweet and caring and such a momma’s boy. His mom is his best friend she gives him absolute hell and he lets her.”

              “Oh. Bradley. You are gone gone…”

              “Yeah. I am gone gone,” Bradley agrees, because there is no point in denying it, and he’s pretty sure Jake already knows, and if he takes away Pete’s ammunition now he has less material to wind Bradley up with.

              “Huh. Okay then. I’ll tell Ice to cancel the job.”

              Bradley rolls his eyes.

              “Don’t say shit like that. He’s not in the mob. Tell him to reign in whatever crazy plan you’re concocting. I’m fine.”

              “Uh… well…”

              “Mav? What crazy plan are you concocting?” Bradley asks, letting out a sigh.

              “Nothing. Really. Just. We thought we’d come out for a visit.”

              “No! I’m working. You don’t need to come and visit. I’m fine.”

              “Okay. Well. How do you know it’s not a one-night stand?”

              “Because we communicate Mav. Like adults. I know it’s a foreign concept for you.”

              “Hey!”

              “Also, pretty sure Jake doesn’t make his one-night stands have dinner with his parents the day before. And I met so many of his family last night I lost track…”

              “But I haven’t met him!”

              “Maverick! Pete. You worked with him for months!”

              “I mean I haven’t met him as your… boyfriend.”

              “You’re on a plane aren’t you,” Bradley states, realizing the truth of it as he says it and okay, at least Jake might feel like Bradley’s getting the better side of the bargain once he realizes how unhinged Mav can be when it comes to him. “Tell me you’re alone.”

              “Well, there’s the pilot,” Mav says, totally deflecting and Bradley knows.

              “Mav.”

              “Well, you know how protective he gets!”

              Fuckity fuck fuck Bradley thinks internally, because it’s one thing to have Pete Mitchell as a father figure, it’s totally another to have Tom Kazansky. And he’s already alluded to Jake that Pete has a partner, although he has no idea what phase of their relationship they might currently be in, with it waxing and waning as sure as the moon, but always there even when they weren’t together. And they’re both enroute here. Because of fucking course they are, although he knows Tom is only really coming to keep Maverick inline.

#Hangster #Sereshaw #more than movie magic #Top Gun Maverick

[al1v3-p03ts-s0ci3ty]

One shot idea: Neil (or Todd) admitting to the other that they like them

(THIS TOOK SO LONG IM SO SORRY-)

Thank you so much for the ask!!! I haven't written much lately so this was a nice start! This ideas been sitting in my notes app for a while so thank you for getting me to finally write it!!

[Authors note! This is set in the 90s. There are mentions of Welton but just imagine that the timeline got shifted up a bit. They're all in their mid 20s. Also the cat name Allen IS based off of that super cool fruity poet Allen Ginsberg.]

Cramped in a small apartment full of boxes that seemed to pile to the ceiling, Neil and Charlie sat on the scratchy carpet of their new home.

They'd spent their whole morning moving box after box from the U-Haul truck, up 3 flights of stairs and finally into their apartment.

"Once we're done moving all this stuff maybe we could have a housewarming?" Neil said, taking big breaths between words. Both Neil and Charlie were completely exhausted from carrying things around all day.

"Maybe we could get the guys to do all the unpacking for us." Charlie joked, although there was a hint of seriousness in his voice.

Neil chuckled at his friends joke and a short silence followed.

"Do you think it was the right thing to do?" Neil's voice was quiet.

"What?"

"To move out, I mean... I know it's for the best and I should just move on..."

There was a pause. "But?" His friend chuckled sort of awkwardly trying to break the tension.

"I'm just gonna miss him." Neil responded, his tone was completely genuine and if you listened carefully you could hear his voice break.

Of course, they were talking about their friend Todd.

Neil and Todd had been inseparable since the day they met in Welton Academy. They spent every waking moment in each others company, they shared a room together, they had classes together, they went to Dead Poets meetings together.

Now, Neil had developed a crush on Todd during this time, and as much as he'd like to say "it's not a big deal" or "it was just a small crush" he'd be lying.

After a long talk with Charlie about his feelings for Todd they both decided that maybe he should move out. He'd spent a long time living with Todd, maybe it was time for a change?

"Well of course you're gonna miss him! You've been in love with him since the day you two met, that's not gonna be easy to get over-" Charlie wasn't even able to finish his thought before Neil cut him off.

"I'm not in love I just-" He couldn't possibly sound more defensive if he tried.

"Look, Neil." There was a short pause before Charlie spoke again, he needed to think of the right words. "You wanna get over him, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Then you're gonna spend some time apart from him..." He turned to face his friend. "If I'm being honest... I always just assumed he felt the same way about you."

"Don't do that, Char."

"Hey, I'm just being honest." Charlie's words came out in an unusually transparent tone.

/////

Finally, they had their place set up. Their apartment had an open floorplan with a small living room and kitchen that was separated by a short bar and stools. There was a hall that connected their bedrooms and bathroom to the living room.

A small couch, coffee table, tv. They tried to make it as homely as possible given that they'd only lived there for a few days. And it worked for the most part.

"When are they supposed to be here?" Charlie asked from behind the kitchen bar, he was watching the packet of popcorn turn in the microwave.

Neil glanced towards the clock they hung above the front door, it was 6pm. "Around now... Maybe they're just running late?"

And then, almost comically, someone knocked the door. Charlie seemed unphased by the sound and made no effort to answer the door. He was such a great host.

Neil pulled the door open. There was already a smile already plastered on his face before he saw his friend's.

They hugged then exchanged greetings and complimented the pair on the new apartment despite the fact that they barely had time to properly decorate, there were still a few boxes here and there.

"Hey." Todd was the last one in the room. Everyone else had gone into the living room and were making themselves at home. But for now it was just Neil and Todd in the doorway.

"Hey..."

There was chatter coming from the living room but the sound seemed fuzzy from where the pair were standing in the hall. Neil definitely wasn't paying attention, especially with Todd right in front of him.

"Oh!" Todd rummaged through his tote bag and pulled out a book, it had post it tabs sticking out the sides as though it had been annotated. "Here." He handed the book to Neil.

"Thanks..." Neil takes the book in his hands and glanced down at it for a moment.

"I forgot to give it back to you after I borrowed it, and then... Well you moved out..."

It was a small copy of The Great Gatsby, ironically though Neil related to the main character as they both had friends in their lives that they had sort of a 'gay yearning' for. Though, neither of them would ever really admit it.

"It was good!" He began. "It was really good." Although Todd was obviously excited to talk about the book, he still spoke in his usual quiet voice. "Daisy was my favourite character by far."

"I knew you'd love her." Neil said, glancing back up at Todd from the book with a smile on his face.

Now that the other boys had settled into the apartment they were, rather loudly, discussing what they should do together.

"Monopoly?" Pitts asked.

Charlie shook his head. "No way, Pittsie."

"Why not?"

"It's too basic. We should play a more exciting game...hmmm."

Neil lightheartedly rolled his eyes before making his own way into the room with Todd. 'Typical Charlie.' He thought. It was obvious Charlie knew what he wanted to play yet he was making everyone wait, he was so dramatic. 'Maybe he should join the theatre.'

Then, suddenly, Charlie's face lit up. "Twister!"

/////

After a too long game of Twister and a few rounds of Uno, Todd was exhausted. Beside him on the couch was Neil, it took everything in him to not lean against his friend and rest his head on his shoulder.

The group was laughing about something, Todd couldn't tell what exactly it was, he was just so tired. The only thing on his mind at this point (beside Neil) was going home and getting some sleep.

God knows what the time was by now. His eyelids were heavy and he had to stop himself from leaning back against the couch and passing out. Neil noticed, obviously.

"You doing okay?" He whispered. His voice was barely audible in comparison to the other boys.

All Todd could do was nod.

"Tired?" There was a sweet smile on Neil's lips.

That smile... Todd could feel his cheeks getting warm. He nodded again. "Just a little..." He replied with a yawn.

Neil's laugh was the sweetest sounding thing you could ever dream of hearing... Or at least that's what Todd thought. "Just a little? You look like you're gonna fall asleep."

Todd lazily shakes his head, earning another laugh from Neil

"You can stay the night if you want... That might be easier than taking the bus."

"Really?" Why did Todd sound so surprised? Of course Neil would let him stay the night, he wouldn't make Todd take the bus alone, especially so late.

"Of course!" Neil smiled wide.

/////

Once the other boys had left and the only remaining people in the apartment were Charlie, Neil and Todd, Neil gave his friend a tour of the new apartment. It didn't take long as the apartment was relatively small and Todd had already been there for a few hours, however, he did like humouring Neil. He was always so theatrical.

"This is where you'll be staying." He said while mimicking some kind of fancy host, it made Todd laugh.

The room was small but cosy nonetheless. Theatre posters in frames lined the walls, he had a vanity that he used as a desk and there was a strip of photo booth pictures of Todd and Neil tucked between the mirror and the frame. Todd tried so hard to seem unphased by it, though his rosy cheeks gave him away.

He had a bookshelf that was more than full already, the middle of the shelves were sagging under the weight of the many, many plays and novels he owned.

Of course there was a box or two in the corner, Neil hadn't had time to move many of his smaller things into the room yet.

"You sure I can stay the night in here?"

"Don't be ridiculous, of course you can."

Neil left the room to give Todd some privacy as he got changed. Todd couldn't help but look around at the room. He was so used to all these things being in Neil's room- 'his old room.' Todd corrected himself- in their apartment, but now they were here.

He put on his fluffy pyjama pants and an old loose shirt before he made himself comfortable on Neil's bed.

Soon after, Neil came into the room wearing different clothes, clothes that Todd had seen him wear before. Now he was getting nostalgic, Neil had only moved out a week ago.

"Hey!" Neil said. 'He looks so cute when he smiles.' Todd thought.

"Hey..." Todd replied in a whisper.

"You comfortable?" Neil joked. "You can sleep there, I'll be on the couch."

"What?" Todd sounded offended on the behalf of his friend.

"What?"

"You can't sleep on the couch, Neil- this is your room. Y-you should sleep in here."

Neil shook his head. "You're my guest. You should have the bed."

"But it's your apartment."

Neil was still stood in the doorway and Todd was still sat on the bed. Suddenly the energy in the room shifted, like there was something lingering under the surface of their conversation, something important and unspoken.

"Well you're already on the bed, Todd." Neil chuckled. Quickly though, Todd got up, stumbling a little at the speed at which he stood.

"Neil, I'm not letting you sleep on the couch."

"Well I guess we'll both just have to sleep on the couch then." Neil joked, though Todd didn't laugh, and just like that the air was tense.

"I'm not letting you sleep on the couch."

There was another pause between the two and they were both facing each other directly now.

"Then... I guess we'll just have to share the bed." Neil suggested, mostly joking. Key word being 'mostly'.

"Yeah..." Todd replied, his voice came out soft and quiet. "M-maybe we will..."

It's not like this would be the first time they shared a bed. Some of those nights at Welton got cold and those blankets were barely enough to shield one person from the temperature. Besides, it's not like anything was going to happen...

/////

Todd sat comfortably at the head of Neil's bed, the pillows and cushions had been distributed between the two and they had propped them up behind them like makeshift backrests. Their hushed laughter filled the room.

"You're kidding." Neil said, in a playful tone.

Todd shook his head and even though he was still laughing he spoke with complete certainty. "I'm not."

"Allen really misses me?" Neil sounded somewhat surprised. Even though they had adopted the cat together some time ago it still surprised him that their cat could miss him.

"Of course he does."

"Well I guess if he misses me so much then I'll just have to move back in." Although he was being sarcastic, there was a trace of truth in his voice. Maybe he would have to move back in for their cat... And no other reason.

Todd let out a brief chuckle. The apartment was a lot quieter now and it was nearing the early hours of the morning and they had to keep their voices down. "So you'd move back in for the cat but not for me?" He joked but he still managed to sound somewhat offended.

"Oh come on..." Neil paused and took a moment to look up at Todd from across the other side of his bed. "You know I'd do anything for you, Todd."

Todd averted his gaze, he'd rather look anywhere else than look at Neil right now. He could feel his cheeks heat up, maybe he could just blame it on the temperature of the room, maybe Neil wouldn't even notice. Todd wanted to change the subject, he didn't want to talk about Neil being gone anymore, but he just couldn't get it off his mind.

"It's weird not having you around the apartment anymore..."

"It's only been a week." Todd could practically hear the smile on Neil's face, he was always smiling about something or another when they were together.

"Well... It's been a long week."

Now this was silence. Not exactly awkward or even anxious, but something else. Something remained between the two of them.

"Your room’s nice." Todd finally deflected the conversation onto something else, something easy to talk about.

"I-" Neil began. He could read Todd, and if he was going to change a conversation topic it must've been for a good reason. "You think so?"

"It's... Very you."

Neil chuckled. "I kinda figured that it's always been 'very me'. It is still all my stuff after all."

"Right- no- yeah-... You know what I mean." Todd shook his head, he was laughing with Neil now.

"I get what you're saying. It is a little different." Neil glanced around his room as if it had been the first time he's ever seen it. He began mentally nitpicking at the changes he'd made.

"Oh?"

"Well for one," he started, "that huge cat scratching post isn't in here anymore."

"Yeah..." Todd looked around now too, he was picking up on the subtle things that were different about the room that used to be so familiar to him, silently missing the things that Neil had left in his old room.

"It's different without Allen, that's for sure, it's quiet." He chuckled. "And it's different without you constantly being in here-"

"I wasn't constant..."

Neil playfully rolled his eyes at his friend's disagreement. "It sooo was." Todd only responded by shaking his head with a disbelieving look on his face. "You were in my room all the time."

"Well... It'll be good to have this new space, right? And I'll have the apartment to myself." Todd was more talking to himself than talking to Neil, almost like he was trying to convince himself that Neil moving out was going to be good for them.

"I'll miss you being in here so often... It'll be so quiet."

"You're living with Charlie, it's definitely not gonna be quiet." Both boys laughed to themselves. It's like the world outside this room had stopped and they were the only two people in the world.

"Yeah." He continued to laugh. "I guess you're right."

"It might be a good change of pace?"

"Maybe..." Neil only half agreed. "I'll miss the quiet though... I'll miss you."

Their eyes met and Todds heart skipped a beat. "I'll miss you too..."

The room went quiet again. "We should probably get some sleep." He said awkwardly, breaking the tension. Now it was Neil who was deflecting and trying to change the subject. He got off the bed and started haphazardly moving the pillows and adjusting the sheet beneath them, not necessarily doing anything but just trying to make himself look busy.

"Neil...?"

Neil felt his world stop for Todd in that moment.

"Yeah?"

"Did... Did I d-do something wrong?" Todd asked, his voice was quiet, almost like he didn't want Neil to hear him.

"What?"

"To make you want to move out... Did I do something wrong?"

Neil shook his head profusely. "No way. Todd you're the best roommate anyone could ask for."

There was a pause, Todd wasn't sure if he should leave the conversation there or not, but he was curious.

Finally, he asked. "Then what was it?" It was inevitable that Todd would ask Neil this question sooner or later.

Neil sighed, he had to make up something. "I thought it would be better to get out of the apartment, ya know?"

But Todd just looked up at him from the bed, unmoving. It was obvious that Todd didn't believe him.

"I thought it might help me..." Neil took a deep breath as if he was bracing himself. "I didn't want anything to come between us." He said about as much as he could without giving himself away.

Todd shook his head. "What do you mean?"

"It's just..." He sighed. How could he possibly explain this? "It's not a big deal."

"Then why can't you tell me?"

The air was thick and the pauses they took between talking felt like eternities.

"I didn't want anything to change between us, that's all." Now it was Neil who had turned his gaze away from Todd.

"Why would anything change?"

"I kind of..." He took another deep breath, his lungs filled with the cold night air that poured through his half open window. "Had a small... Crush on you while we were living together." He barely even glanced at Todd after he said this, he wished he could read Todd and tell just how he felt.

He had about a million questions for Neil but all he could manage to choke out was-

"W-what?"

"It was just a small crush really, it was barely anything." He stuttered and stumbled over each word, with every sentence he let out he felt like he was letting out more and more that he couldn't take back.

"You... You m-moved out because you had a crush on me?"

"Yeah...." He nodded briefly before turning to Todd.

"But... you only moved out a week ago..."

The brunette nodded. He felt like there was a lump in his throat and a pit in his stomach.

"D-do you still... Feel like... That?"

Neil let out an awkward chuckle. "I guess so, yeah."

"You moved out to get over me?" Todd was still somewhat smiling, like he didn't believe it was true.

"Yeah." He nodded. Neil was a lot calmer now that it was out in the open. He thought this would've gone a lot worse than it did.

Todd let out a sigh of relief, which Neil immediately noticed.

He scanned Todd for any sign of discomfort or anger, though he didn't pick up on any. The only other time he'd felt this anxious was when his father showed up unexpectedly in the audience of a play he was in. But he'd rather not think about that.

"What?" Now that he was at ease he could finally do something besides just stand there and look anxious.

Todd dismissed the question by shaking his head, although he was still smiling. "It's just..." He lowered his voice. "I-I've gotten that advice before."

Neil just gave him a confused look.

"Meeks... He thought I should've m-moved out when I... Told him I liked you."

Neil went speechless, his mind was racing. It all made sense now, thinking back to all the times he even considered that Todd felt the same way about him. It all made sense.

"What?" Neil choked out as his lips formed a smile.

Todd reciprocated his smile. "Just before you moved out..."

The two boys shared a glance and the room seemed to shrink, pulling them closer together.

"Really?"

"...yeah."

"Charlie had his suspicions." Neil joked. He tried keeping the conversation light hearted, he knew that Todd didn't hold up well under stress.

"I thought it was so obvious-" Todd mumbled, he hid his face in his hands.

In hindsight it was incredibly obvious. It was ridiculous that they had no idea that the other had feelings for them until now.

"I... I guess I just never noticed before." Neil sat back down in his original position on the bed. "I thought I was the obvious one." He laughed.

"Really?" Todd's voice came out like a mouse, he peeked at Neil from behind his hands.

"Oh yeah!" He nodded reassuringly. "Remember all the valentines' I made you?"

"Oh my God-" The shorter boy covered his face with his hands again, embarrassed, his face flushed red. "I had no idea."

"Really? No idea?"

Todd silently shook his head in response.

Neil hadn't noticed his cheeks heating up until he saw himself in the mirror. His face was bright red and there was a sweet smile on his face. He never even dreamed that this day would come. Not only was he able to confess to the love of his life, but to hear Todd say in his own words that he reciprocated those feelings, it just meant the world to him. Maybe this was the beginning of something new?

Carpe Diem.

#my post #my fic #fanfic #fanfiction #dead poets society #neil perry #todd anderson #anderperry #dps #dps fic #dead poets society fanfiction #dead poets society fandom #charlie dalton #steven meeks #gerard pitts

[ruthlesscore]

hello !

i’ve been enjoying your writing for sf6 lately, and i was wondering if you’d be able to write anything for ed?

i don’t have any specific scenario, but can it be with an x reader insert? haha i’m just craving any sort of ed content tbh

thanks !

Ed x Hacker!Reader - Meeting Ed

- This is my first request for SF6! I was already planning on making a Ed related post so this is like killing two birds with one stone! I hope you enjoy! <3 -

You weren't a Street Fighter. You had more brains than those ruffians that go around beating up anything that moves. As an intellectual, you're enrolled in college to peruse your dream in technology. You had friends here and there, like Li-Fen, who lived in Chinatown, and some people who worked in SiRN.

You were from a working class household, only 23, constantly having to pay off your tuition. You didn't have money to afford food sometimes. You started picking up part-time jobs, some were odd, others were impractical. They never lasted long. You frequently got fired for being late or sleeping on the job. Your excuse?

"School's got me brunt out. I'm sorry, it won't happen again!"

and it didn't happen again because now youre jobless. Sitting at home, rotting away in front of your computer, you decided you needed a new job and fast. Something more practical that didn't require you to leave the comfort of your dorm.

You serached for a week or so before coming across this group called Neo Shadoloo. You've heard about Shadoloo from your many conversations with Li-Fen. The experiments they conducted on innocent children disgust you. You were glad they were gone. But if Shadoloo was gone, who the was Neo Shadoloo?

Adding the phone number to your contacts, you messaged the individual names Ed.

I saw the flyer for Neo Shadaloo. You guys hiring?

You got a response almost immediately.

Hell yeah we are. You gotta have some sort of experience in tech. You a hacker? You legit?

Yeah. What do you need done?

Just getting information from certain databases. Anything about Shadaloo, M. Bison, the experiments, or where the remnants might be. I'll send the pay to you later.

And that's the day you started cyber attacks for this strange organization. At first, you felt guilty about this. Then you were uncertain about the job because what you were doing was illegal. But then you looked at the pay and god DAMN. Who cares about morals when this shady organization is sending you 700 zenny per task.

After your first couple of jobs, Ed started to message you about things outside of work, like the history of Shadaloo, sightseeing in Metro, your studies at university, and personal philosophies. Sometimes, when you're up at night, you'd receive a text from him. You don't know if it was because he was under the influence, or that men usually act this way past 10, but he would send messages that were so strange. You couldn't tell if he was flirting or he was telling a bad joke.

You single? Of course you are. Nobody born in the shitty ass city will treat you right.

Ed, what the hell are you talking about?

You like Bratwurst? Ever had one? I could give you one.

Please go to sleep, Ed.

Only if you're sleeping with me.

Promise you'll make me breakfast in the morning?

Yeah, you're delirious. Gtb, ____.

You didn't know him personally, so the meaning is still up for grabs. The morning after these messages, Ed wouldn't even bring it up, if anything, he was avoiding it. Maybe he was under the influence.

After working for Neo Shadaloo for about 3 months, constantly messaging Ed and feeding into his nightly banter, you received a message from Ed.

Hey. I need you to come pick something up from me. It's a hard drive we need decoded. I'll be at the station at Beat Square tonight. Pull through.

You didn't even answer the message. You put your shoes on and headed out the door that night. Of course you were carrying your handy-dandy knife, as you were no fan of fighting. Hopefully no one tries to mug you or something. Heading down into the station and getting onto the train, you ran into a problem. What the hell does Ed even look like? You've never seen a photo of him and he's never seen you. How are you going to meet with someone you don't even know? Then there was a second problem, one running right towards you, a man and Shadaloo fighters.

The man held onto the overhead railing as the train shook. You lost your footing and fell onto the window. Groaning in a tinge of pain, you sit down. The man paid no attention to you. He looked at the Shadaloo fighters.

"Bring it on."

The Shadaloo fighters tried striking him. He dodged with boxer like reflexes. You silently watched the fight go down, completely dumbfounded by how brutal street fights were. God, it was disgusting. You get it, Shadaloo was a bad organization enabling bad behavior, but doing something as petty as strert fighting? Surely, there was a more mature, more intelligent way of handling affairs, right? With god like reflexes, the boxer hit all 3 of the Shadaloo fighters, knocking them to the ground. He managed to maintain his footing, even though the train was moving so unsteadily.

All of a sudden a big fighter came out, pushing the smaller ones out of the way. You pull your knees up to your chest, hoping you'd appear so small that neither the blond boxer or the Shadaloo fighter wouldn't see you. The big one tries to grab the boxer when the train car shook. The boxer's fist was suddenly engulfed in purple flames. Punching the Shadaloo fighter to the other side of the car and using some sort of supernatural ability to pull the fighter back to him, he punched the fighter's face into the ground. There's no denying it. That was Ed and he was using Psycho Power. He didn't even look your way. Once the train stopped, he quickly got off.

Once you got off the train, you quickly looked around for him. You see him and hurriedly walked over to him. With your hood up and mask on, you stopped a few feet away from Ed and showed him your messages with him. He glanced at the message before taking the hard drive out.

"So you're ____, huh. Finally got to put a name to a face."

He looks you up and down.

"Still down for that Bratwurst?"

#sf6 #sf6 x reader #street fighter 6 #ed #ed sf6 #request #street fighter x reader

[egglygreg]

Ok, so I had this dream last night right? And it was mostly nonsensical and weird and silly, but there was this moment...

#I was the winged fairy girl at this point during a big battle #someone sliced me right down the front through my corset and dress #it was inspired I think by that fight in Zorro between Zorra and Elena #except NOT flirty dude was trying to kill me and sliced a wound down my chest #not super deep but still #and then this other guy #the one in the drawing #defected from the enemy side killed the other dude and very distressed tried to help me #which involved a very funny moment of him pulling my hands back to see the wound and realising my corset had been cut clean through #and us both getting extremely embarrassed and him pulling the corset back together and telling me to keep pressure on it #literally the most YA romantic comedy moment I've ever experienced #I think the main influences of this dream were that I recently watched a youtube reaction vid of someone watching Zorro for the first time #A drawing someone I follow did of that popular YA fae novel that I've never read #and looking at tangled concept art #and actually definitely the first aid course I did this week #because I remember them talking about how you need to cut clothing off someone to put the defib pads on their chest #and I was uncomfortable with the thought of someone having to do that to me #AND the fact I was paired with a cute guy I'd never met and we had to practice putting each other in the recovery position #which was SUPER awkward #so clearly my brain was like You know what would be fun? an even MORE awkward and painful scenario! #but make it fantasy! #ellennart

[actualtoad]

today was such a day (negative, mostly)

#it’s my sisters birthday #she’s been really stressed because of my parents being so actively vehement at each other all week. she’s okay rn though #um #my friend teacher she/herred me like three four times while introducing me to somebody!!!!!! #and then???? my next hour teacher deadnamed me in front of the entire class because she doesn’t understand having multiple names in multiple #classes and yesterday she was bringing up how a different teacher had called me ari and i was like oh huh yeah okay i go by many names #like trying to be funny and vague about it but then today you know what she did? she called me ari-arthur-anya #she called me two school names and my FUCKING deadname because she doesn’t GET IT and im so FREAKING mad at her and she does NOT get a card #im so pissed im so mad at the two teachers that i thought were probably the most accepting teachers that i’ve ever KNOWN and now here they #BOTH of them on the same day one after another an hour apart!!!! im so pissed!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #and i know that mr hidaka didn’t MEAN it he’s talked to me about gender and stuff like!!!! i know it’s not representative of all of him but #it just hurts really bad that people who i know and love who are SO important to my feeling even a little safe at school #it hurts really bad knowing that they don’t even think of me as myself. that mr h can just forget to use my pronouns makes me want to cry #im so tired of it being something that people have to remember to do. im so tired of this other everything being the default #i need a fucking beard or something i guess. give me some time please!!!! i want to be a teenage boy please!!!!!!!! im so tired!!!! #i had a good morning with mr hidaka mostly like. basically i skipped my first hour class i couldn’t do it today i didn’t want to be there #and i couldn’t do it. so i went to his room how i do. and i said can i stay here. and he said of course i could but i would get marked #absent from my first hour but as long as i was okay with that i could stay. and so i did and i was working on stuff. and then #another teacher showed up. and okay something you guys for sure don’t know about my friend teacher is that he’s a frisbee coach at my school #like he’s in charge of the ultimate frisbee team shdhdf. he’s really into it it’s not really a sport feeling thing but it seems like fun #so anyway the other teacher was like hey (hidaka first name) me and some guys from the team are gonna go throw some frisbees do you want to #and mr h was like. yeah sure!! and he gave me the option between i could stay if i wanted but i could come with too and i said i’d come with #but i cant do frisbee. so it turned out to be the kids from the team and the other coach were doing fancy stuff together and me and mr h #just played some catch and he showed me how to do it and it was really fun and nice and it was really good #so it sucked when then the other teacher was like. so who’s this lovely person anyway? (exact words he said) #and my friend teacher mr hidaka said oh she skipped her first hour so shes here with me #and that hurt my stupid feelings pretty bad!!!!!!! i didn’t say anything though #and then the rest of the day happened. and now im home #all i have left for the rest of the school year is just my chemistry final so im not doing homework tonight #im still making finishing his book into a high priority it’s higher than the project

[gremlingottoosilly]

I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 

— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 

— Ah…your father is at home? 

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 

— You didn’t tell him about me? 

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh. 

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 

— Ja. You can have it. 

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 

— What do you mean by this, sir? 

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 

König is. 

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 

You look like a good candidate. 

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 

— I don’t want to break his heart. 

— He doesn’t have one. 

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 

— I’ll tell him. 

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 

— I need to return to my dorm. 

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #yandere cod #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere x reader

[nanaslutt]

Can we get a part 2 of when reader asks satoru and suguru if they fucked before

of course ml!! tysm for asking <3

part 1 here~

contains: fem reader, fluff, crack, choking, hair pulling, anal sex (gojo gets fucked) spanking (geto spanks gojo once), dirty talk, overstimulation, dacryphilia if you squint, dare i say sub satoru, sub/dom dynamics if you squint, suguru and reader are competitive, u tag team gojo together

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

“so, when we’re you guys gonna tell me you’ve fucked before?” you asked, raising your eyebrows

gojo froze in place, pausing his efforts to get a towel to clean you up, he slowly turns to you, faux innocence on his stupidly pretty face, a big hand coming to rub the back of his neck

both you and geto stare at him, a smirk plastered on sugurus handsome features, heavy hand holding up his head, awaiting his response,

“now what on earth put that idea in your pretty little head?” he questions, hand falling on his hip sassily as he does an absolutely awful job lying

“oh i don’t knoww,” you drawl, pretending to think, “maybe geto telling you he was going to fuck you like it was the most normal thing in the world,” you scrunched your nose, shrugging

“but what do i know!” your eyebrows raised, suppressing a smile,

“nothing, you know nothing,” he replied, wiggling his finger back and forth in front of him like a child

“don’t tell me you forgot satoru, you might hurt my feelings.” geto teased, from his place between your calves, tilting his head to the side, “i know we were a little tipsy, but you told me i was an unforgettable fuck.” he pouted, faking offense, “you weren’t lying to me were you?”

satoru’s hand still on his hip like the sassy man he was, his mouth just flopping open and closing like a fish out of water, trying to think of a quick retort but failing to come up with anything, because the raven haired man was right

he was a truly unforgettable fuck

“now my feelings are hurt, he didn’t say I was an unforgettable fuck..” you pouted, crossing your arms over your bare chest,

“your mouth almost sucked the soul out of me,” he echoed from the hall

he had taken the opportunity of getos attention on you while he was ‘consoling’ you to slip out of the room, walking back in with a few damp towels, “course you’re an unforgettable fuck, way more than that monkey brained freak,” he hisses at geto, sitting next to you on the bed, using the warm towel to wipe his cum from your cheeks,

“oh? really?” geto let his head fall from his hand, landing against your knee, squinting his eyes at satoru while the blonde continued cleaning down your body, wiping up any fluids the two men had left

“think i remember making you cum..how many times was it again? 4? you were shooting blanks before i was even done with you” he smiles, rubbing your knee fondly with his strong hand while staring at gojo challengingly,

gojo looks away from your breasts, staring back into geto’s deep brown eyes,

“n they only made you cum once..” suguru mumbles into your knee,

“woah! woah, okay, I didn’t know i was competing with you in the first place!” you defend yourself, front half of your body shooting up, making gojo sigh as you accidentally knocked his hand back, “‘s not about quantity anyways, it’s about quality” you said smugly,

“n toru here, said I almost made him die so id say my quality is michelin star,” you proclaimed, narrowing your eyes at him before gojo pushed ur torso back down,

“i’m surrounded by a buncha babies jesus christ,” gojo shakes his head, pulling your leg out of sugurus grasp to access your leaking cunt better, pressing the harsh cloth against you and wiping you as gently as he could,

“sorry,” he winced for you in sympathy when you groaned out a protest, trying to close your legs on his hand at how painfully sensitive the rough towel made you feel, “anyways, you’re both good in bed, kay?” he continues,

“when suguru fucks me, it feels like my fucking guts are getting all messed up to make room for his stupidly big cock,” looking up through his lashes at sugurus smug expression, then back down to focus on what he was doing before making eye contact with you,

your arms still crossed over your chest, “n your throat squeezes me so fucking good i thought i was seein the pearly gates,” hand coming up to pinch your cheek, discarding the towel somewhere on the floor, standing once more to look for someone’s shirt on the floor he can put on,

“ ‘fucks’ as in you’ve had sex multiple times?” you stared in disbelief between the two of the large men, before settling your eyes on suguru

continuing your teasing you spoke up again, “and my compliment still sounded better,” you challenged him, a smug looks gracing your features

“you think so?” the raven haired man scrunched his eyebrows together, before turning his head to look straight at gojo’s supple bent over ass as he picked up a shirt and started to pull it over his head, “well, only one way to be sure which of us is really better.” he says to you quietly before standing

coming up behind gojo and grabbing his raised arms, preventing him from putting on his shirt, “hold that thought satoru, we’re in the middle of a little debate right now” yanking the shirt from satoru’s hands and throwing it back to its prior home on the floor,

“think you can help us? hmm?” he whispers, right into the shell of his best friends ear, sending goosebumps down his neck, “we’ll make it worth your while.”

———————————————————————

almost two hours later and the three of you were still in the same room, on the same bed,

gojo on his back, suguru fucking his cock right into his prostate as you face gojo, bouncing on his overstimulated dick, a thick ring of yours and his combined cum on the base of his overstimulated cock,

“c-cant cum anymore p-please- haaah- fuck please!” gojo whimpers out, thrashing his head back and forth on the sheets as fat tears drip down his face, making his cheeks shine under the light, “‘s too much ‘m too sensitive, ohmygodd” he drags, curses spilling from his lips one after another, his hold on your grip sure to leave nasty bruises as his hips fuck into your warm cunt without his brains permission,

“not till you tell us who’s better,” geto emphasizes with a heavy thrust, hand coming up to choke you out while he gives gojos poor hole the meanest treatment,

“‘s me right? ‘ve made you cum inside me so many times.” you slur, voice strained from getos rough grip on your throat

“bold of you to think that was your doing,” geto scoffs at you, “cmere,” he pulls your head back to press your lips together, other hand interlacing with gojos on your hip

satoru whines underneath the two of you, watching you makeout and feeling your cunt pulse around him because of suguru’s expert tongue work in your mouth had him spiraling

your hands coming up to grab geto’s wrist while he hums into the kiss, biting your lip between his teeth and pulling on it, letting it go before he chases after it and connects your lips once more

“‘m gunna cum again- please fuck- nggghhh i c-cant cum again,” gojo whines, squeezing getos hand and your hip for support as he’s falling into yet another orgasm and fast,

suguru pulls away from the kiss, releasing his grip on your neck as he pushes your lower back down twords gojos chest, “yes you can,” he growls

the raven haired man grabs your hair by the roots and pushes your face into satorus, “help him through it baby,” not needing to be told twice, you grab gojos cheeks with both your hands and slot your lips against his,

“mmmmph- mmm- can-t- p-please i-“ his protests being cut off by your lips, not letting him catch a breath

“got you, cmon” you comfort him in between your assault on his lips, geto reaching between his bestfriend and your body, finding your neglected clit, and rubbing sloppy circles on it, helping you get closer to your own high

“right there with you,” geto grits his teeth, resisting the urge to squeeze his eyes shut and tip his head back, so he can watch the show unfolding in front of him,

“gonna fill up this tight ass while you cum inside them, okay? and you’re gonna take everything we give you, right?” geto’s hips losing their rhythm, teetering on the edge of his own orgasm

gojo just whimpers into your mouth, hes trying to speak, he really is, but it’s all too much, he’s completely fucked out

“need to hear you say it satoru,” he emphasizes with a mean thrust, fucking impossibly deeper into his tight hole,

getos hand rubbing sloppily on your clit almost becomes too much, “yes! yesyes please ohmygod- gonna take it- shit-“ gojo’s whiney voice gets out just before he feels your cunt start to squeeze him,

“toru! fuuuuck me!” you whine, the blondes hips mindlessly fucking up into you helping you ride out your high as he cums so fucking hard, bordering on painful as spurt after spurt of his warm seed fills you once more,

and he’s gasping, barely coherent broken moans of both of your names on satoru’s tongue

geto not far behind you as he stills, balls deep inside gojos ass, the last push he needed seeing the two of you cum all over each other,

“yesssss fuuuuck” he clenches his teeth together hard, toothy grin emerging on his face, finally letting his head fall back, eyes following suit, rolling to the back of his head, “take it f-fucking t-take it.” fucking each rope of his cum deep into gojo’s ass

all three of you bask in the aftershocks of your intense orgasms, core clenching and unclenching around gojo’s length as you finally come down, picking your head up from gojos neck and smiling at his current state,

he was sniffling and gasping, red faced, tears decorating his lashes, making them look like glitter, he appeared more fucked out than ever

geto behind him slowly pulls out his softening cock, and gojo lets out a long groan of overstimulation when he does so, digging his fingers into the fat of your sides and wincing, “fuck, please don’t move yet, might pass out if you do” he says to you, his poor dick crying for relief, still snug inside your pussy, twitching every so often against your walls

you giggle, peppering kisses all over his face, he lets his eyes shut, finally relaxing a little as he relishes in the feeling of your soft lips on his skin,

suguru coming around to sit by his head

when you stop your assult of kisses on his porcelain face geto grabs gojos cheek furthest away from him and makes him turn his head into his thick thigh, “so,” geto starts, rubbing his thumb on gojos cheek, “who was better?” he asks, cocky smile finding home once more on his face

gojos eyes shoot open, looking at him slightly panicked, squeezing your upper thighs for support before he speaks, looking back between the two of you,

“i….im afraid if i don’t answer we will never leave this room.” he gulps

geto confirms his fears, tilting his head to the side, face sporting the fakest smile of comfort gojo has ever seen, “you would be absolutely right.”

#dom gojo believers don’t look #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru fic #gojou x reader #gojo fluff #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo x you #geto suguru drabble #geto suguru x reader #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru #satoru x suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jjk geto #geto x reader #geto smut #satosugu #satosugu x reader

[earthtooz]

x : NOT JEALOUS ! :*+ﾟ

in which: alhaitham isn't jealous, he doesn't get jealous, so what is this suffocating feeling in his chest that only happens when you're talking to another man that isn't him?

warnings: 5.4k words, jealous!alhaitham x gn!reader who has loads of rizz, university!au, fluff with angst but happy ending, pining!alhaitham who doesn't realise that he loves you, kaveh is there, mention of cyno, ooc at some bits?, swearing, alhaitham is a little bit of an asshole at some parts sawry. he's bad with feelings.

a/n: inspired by @danijaci's jealous jealous boy comic with alhaitham! hi dani if you're reading this pls don't perceive me... hides... but i hope you all like it :,)

Alhaitham isn’t jealous. 

The uncomfortable feeling obstructing itself in his throat is just because he’s beginning to develop a sore throat- that’s all. It is flu season after all, who knows what kind of bacteria are in the air? Ones capable of lathing an uncomfortable oil that burns inside his chest, the smog crowding its way into his heart, sickening him to his core as Alhaitham can’t help but eavesdrop on the conversation happening beside him.

“I’m free friday,” a voice besides you confirms.

“Okay!” you cheer, sounding a little too happy for Alhaitham’s liking. After all, it’s 9 am, who has this much energy in the morning? “lets do Friday then!”

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then. Bye Y/n.”

“Bye, see you!” Alhaitham watches from the corner of his eye as you wave to the random stranger you’ve decided to associate yourself with before finally taking the seat beside him with a sigh. 

He doesn’t say anything to you, feeling your eyes glance at him expectantly as he stares stubbornly at the lecture board instead of acknowledging you or the jumble of feelings clogging up his diaphragm. 

“Hello, you,” You lean over slightly, careful to not invade his personal space whilst waving at him, hoping to catch his attention. He glances at you, nodding in greeting before returning to his book, the pages and rows of words only fuelling his unease he suddenly felt. He doesn’t even know where he left off, the book’s events a blur in Alhaitham’s mind.

How bothersome. What’s happening to him?

“Talkative today, aren’t you?” Your tone is playful despite his cold attitude and Alhaitham sneaks another look in your direction, noting the way your lips curve upwards. “So, how are you?” 

“I’m fine,” he murmurs, inserting a bookmark between the pages before slamming it shut, an indicator that you could keep conversing with him.

“Cool.” You tap your nails on the desks of the lecture hall. “Oh, I finished my essay the other day.”

“The one for your elective?”

You hum in agreement, “I hope I never get it back. Submitted it ten minutes before the due date.”

“You know you wouldn’t have been stressed over it if you just started it earlier-”

“I know, I know,” you huff, “spare your productivity lectures for another time, I’ll be needing them later in the semester.” The grey-haired shakes his head as you laugh, but his gaze returns to the front cover of his book as he solemnly thinks about the interaction you had with another man, right in front of him. 

(What right did he have to see you smiling so earnestly like that?)

“Who was that?” Alhaitham coughs out, barely choking down his pride in time to make space for the question.

You murmur some guy’s name that he doesn’t bother to remember. “He’s a friend of mine in the same discussion group for this course and we decided to do the assignment together. He bumped into me on the way in so we were just planning when to meet to do the research.”

“Oh.” Your answer doesn’t calm the churning in Alhaitham’s gut. Not even one bit, in fact, it makes it worse. 

But it’s not jealousy, Alhaitham doesn’t get jealous because he’s above petty feelings of inadequacy. He’s merely concerned for you, worried for your brainpower by the end of the project because your partner seems less-than-incompetent. If you’d picked someone like Alhaitham (or better yet, just picked Alhaitham), you would’ve aced the class without even blinking an eye. 

(The two of you are friends, so why didn’t you pick him? It’s literally been proven that the two of you are compatible working together since you were both executives of Sumeru’s Cultural Society, and amidst all of the activities the club has run, you’ve collaborated many times to make each event run flawlessly. So why not him? Why would you pick another man over him?)

“You know you could have picked me, I wouldn’t mind working on the assignment with you,” he grumbles, words soft but very clear.

Alhaitham misses the way your eyes widen in shock as apologies scramble out of your mouth. “I’m sorry! I automatically assumed that you wanted to work on it by yourself. Next time I’ll ask you.” 

The lecture begins before he could say anything in return and like a robot, he sets his thoughts aside and begins listening, notes document up and cursor blinking at the ready.

A mundane two hours pass by, one powerpoint slide after powerpoint slide before the lecture is finally over, much to your pleasure. Alhaitham notices the way you eagerly jump out of your seat to stretch, grabbing your bag. On the other hand, your grey-haired accomplice takes his time in packing up, forcing you to wait for him.

“Would you like to get some coffee before the meeting?” You ask.

“Sure, we can find a seat there and join it together,” he adds and you beam at him, expression bright and so enchanting that it makes him forget about all the perplexities he felt before the lecture. 

The two of you make your way to one of the many campus cafés where you practically wrestled Alhaitham to stop him from paying for both your orders (losing in the end) before sitting at a booth, your laptop set up with a pair of Alhaitham’s earphones shared between you. The meeting begins to fill up with almost all committee members, even Kaveh, who resides in his room of his and Alhaitham’s shared flat. Upon noticing him, you go to text him, with the grey-haired peeking over your shoulder from time to time to see your conversation- not that he cares that much.

(Perhaps if Kaveh glanced up from his phone, then he’d see how close Alhaitham had gotten with you, breaching the distance that he prefers to keep around others. He’d also notice the headphone sharing despite how he generally tends to keep them out of anyone else’s hands.)

You’re tasked with the role of taking notes for the meeting since Alhaitham, in your opinion, is not at all a reliable scribe. His notes tend to just include vital information and never what everyone else needs to know, yet each time you scold him for it, his unbothered expression never falters, waving your complaints off with a shrug. 

“Hey, Kaveh and I are going to go for lunch tomorrow after our classes. Care to join?” You ask, smiling at him hopefully as your messages with Kaveh sit open on your screen. Alhaitham doesn’t think twice before agreeing. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“It looks like it’s about to rain,” you murmur, pulling out a chair as Alhaitham and Kaveh take their seats opposite you. 

“So it does,” Alhaitham notes, not caring to look too long out the window before returning his gaze to you. “You have an umbrella, right?”

“I, uh, didn’t think I needed one today.”

“Do you not check the weather before you leave?”

“Not everyone’s like you, Alhaitham.” Kaveh teases. “It’s no problem, Y/n, if it rains I can walk you back to your dorm.”

“Only if you are okay with it,” you insist, “I have no problem walking home in the rain. I love the rain.”

Alhaitham intervenes with a raise of his hand. “Nonsense, you’ll catch a cold. We’ll walk you home.”

A soft but genuine ‘thank you’ slips from your lips, neither of you wiser to the way Kaveh eyes his roommate suspiciously, not missing the use of ‘we’ in his sentence and the implications the collective pronoun has. For it meant that Alhaitham is willing to take precious time out of his day to perform an act for someone that he is not indebted to do. Not that Alhaitham is inherently selfish, per se, but he is a man of routine. He wakes up every morning and takes five minutes to scribble on his stupid whiteboard in the kitchen what he has to do for the day and strictly abides by it, not even straying two minutes off schedule.

Willingly volunteering his minutes? Kaveh finds that suspicious. 

“So, how’s your architecture assignment, Kaveh?” You ask, breaking the blond from his daze whilst Alhaitham pours glasses of water for the table, starting with your cup. 

“A nightmare,” he sighs, sinking into his chair. “I still have so much to do, you know my professor didn’t like my blueprint? How ridiculous! I hope that man steps in a puddle and wets his sock.”

The grey-haired pipes up with a remark. “I can’t wait for it to be done, our living room is a mess right now.” 

“Hey, I am the one that cleans that living room, thank you very much. Your bookshelf is still a mess even though I’ve asked you to clean it five times.”

“If it bothers you so much then why don’t you do it yourself?”

“I’m the only one who-”

“-I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you murmur, cutting the conversation before shuffling out of your chair, seemingly eager to do so.

Kaveh turns to the grey-haired again, “and you just scared away Y/n.”

“Sorry no one wants to hear about your architecture project.”

“Y/n literally asked, asshole.”

A rebuttal sits on the tip of Alhaitham’s tongue- as it always does when it comes to bickering with his roommate, but it dies out when an intruder comes to the table. “Excuse me, I hate to interrupt,” he begins, “but the person who just got up, is that your friend?”

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“Oh, I just wanted to drop this off, mind passing it over for me?” The piece of paper he was holding lands in Kaveh’s hand. “Thanks, bro.” Is all he says before strolling away, out of sight but definitely not out of mind.

The blond does not hesitate to open it up, chuckling in amusement when reading the content. “’Hey you’re cute, here’s my number’ it says. What a bitch! You didn’t like his vibes either, right, Alhaitham?”

“Hold on, what does the note say?”

Grabbing (snatching) it from Kaveh, the grey-haired has half a mind to rip the note apart, a certain sense of distaste washing over him that intensifies the long he stares at the guy’s handwriting. His eye is twitching. Why is his eye twitching?

“Hey!” He hears Kaveh call. “Don’t scrunch it, that’s Y/n’s-“

Alhaitham stuffs the ball of paper into his bag where he’ll recycle it later even though something irrational within him tells him to burn it. “Y/n won’t miss it. You said it yourself, he’s a bitch.”

“Sure, but why are you doing-“

“Hey!” You interrupt, sliding back into your chair with a grin on your face. “So, what did I miss?”

“Nothing,” the grey-haired murmurs, assuming his crossed-arm position. Kaveh side eyes his roommate before agreeing with a hum. “Let’s order something now. We want to beat the rain, right?”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

This meeting for the Sumeru Society might have been one of the most important ones of the year thus far, with almost every committee member expected to attend. After all, the annual ball was a big event that always had the largest turnout, and the amount of planning that goes into it to ensure its success is almost triple that of its other events.

So why weren’t you here?

“Why did you leave the meeting early on Friday?” Alhaitham asks as soon as he sees you.

You pause briefly, eyes widening and eyebrows raising. It must have been the way that Alhaitham’s voice raised a pitch towards the end of the question, demonstrating a nervous break in character that was not at all typical. Cool and collected would be the defining words to describe Alhaitham, as well as someone who does not care for the menial activities of others, so what is he doing asking you? And why does he care so much?

“I, uh, had dinner with someone,” you confess, continuing to grab your books and laptop, missing the way his features contort into something un-cool, and very un-Alhaitham.

“Whom?”

You murmur the name of some other guy, who he vaguely recalls to be your project partner.

“What?” Alhaitham snaps.

“I didn’t think missing out on some of the meeting would be a big deal! I got another committee member to explain what I missed,” you justified. “Besides, there’s no big events going on right now, so I thought-”

“-That you could abandon your tasks and go have fun with someone else?”

Alhaitham’s not really sure why he said that. He’s not angry that you skipped a meeting; there are larger things in the world to worry about, he’s angry because you spent time with another guy that wasn’t him.Why not go to dinner with him instead? He spends it every night with Kaveh, and you are far more favourable than Kaveh.  

“Is it really something to get mad over? I already told you, I got the meeting notes and everything-”

“-You’re an executive of the society, Y/n, more is expected from you.”

“Seriously?” you ask, “how come you didn’t bat an eye when the vice president wasn’t there the other day?”

“Because she was sick.” 

“Okay, fine! what about the subcommittee? they’re not always there either!” 

“They’re subcom. Whether they miss a meeting or not is not crucial.”

“So, it’s just my business that you care about?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed, disbelief clouding over your expression like a mask.

Again, Alhaitham doesn’t know where these punches are coming from and why he’s throwing them against you so viciously, but his heart is tightening defensively with a burning emotion that he’s been feeling more and more recently, and his first instinct is to lash out, to protect himself from it.

Perhaps it’s because foreign things that he can’t understand terrify him and you, all you ever do is make him feel things that he’s never felt before and he can’t understand why. 

“You’re not that special.”

A flash of hurt gleams in your eyes and Alhaitham knows now that he’s royally fucked up. “You’re an ass,” you grumble, about to walk away when he intercepts.

“Listen to me!”

“Fuck off!” 

“Y/n-”

You’re gone before he can get another word out, retreating figure stomping away whilst his chest weaves into knots; something that no amount of deep breathing can calm. It doesn’t help that the minute he returns home, Kaveh is onto him like some sort of parasite, curious over the tense air surrounding his normally-composed roommate. 

“Hey, welcome home- whoa, what’s gotten into you?” The blond asks.

“None of your business,” Alhaitham grumbles through gritted teeth, taking his shoes off and throwing them aside haphazardly. Kaveh doesn’t miss the way Alhaitham’s jaw is clenched, or the strain in his hand when he brings up a hand to run through his hair, or the very subtle and minute twitch in his cheek.

The blond ignores all signs that he wants to be left alone, and instead, follows the grey-haired to his room after he swung the door open. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on, let’s talk about this-”

“Talk about what?” Alhaitham growls.

“Who pissed in your black coffee today?” 

“No one. Now get lost.” 

“Aw, come on, you know what they say. Getting things off your chest is always beneficial.”

“There’s nothing on my chest, go away.”

“You sure? no stress, no deadlines, no love interest making you tear your hair out-”

“-No, no, none of those!”

“Then what?”

Alhaitham steadies himself by resting his elbows on his thighs, hands clasped together as he exhales loudly. “I got pissed and took it out on Y/n, who’s mad at me now.”

“Huh? Why so annoyed?”

“Because Y/n went to dinner with another man.”

It’s silent for a while. The sassy quip that he expects from Kaveh does not happen. Instead, the blond merely smiles, a satisfied, knowing grin that slightly irks him. “You know, I’ve been waiting for the day you realise you have feelings for Y/n.” 

“What? Where did you get that conclusion from?” Alhaitham sits up straighter. There are a lot of things he knows, and he knows for sure that he does not like you in any way beyond platonic. He doesn’t have any time to spare for love. There are scholarships he still needs to apply for, internships to be interviewed for, research projects to submit- nowhere amongst the minute hand of the clock is there space for love. 

“Oh come on,” Kaveh sits down on the bed beside his roommate, leaning back on his hands. “You’re not as smooth as you hope to be sometimes.”

“I’m serious, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Y’know the sooner you accept you have feelings for Y/n, the easier life will be.”

“Life is already easy and there is no sooner because I don’t like Y/n like that. Now get lost. I have stuff I need to finish.”

Kaveh shrugs, standing up with a soft ‘suit yourself’, taking seven steps before he’s out of the room. Alhaitham lets out a sigh that has lodged itself in his throat for too long, and the feeling of reprieve he gets is short-lived before he’s flooded with a certain tightness again. Maybe he did have a weight on his chest after all, not that he’d ever admit it to himself or Kaveh.

He gets up from his made bed with a grunt and decides to push aside all distractions. Time is unforgiving, and if doesn’t finish his assignment by this Friday then he’ll be a little less than pleased.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Alhaitham feels like he can’t breathe. 

You’re sitting alone at a library desk, all focused and concentrated on your laptop screen with your headphones on, blocking out any outside voice as you type away. He wonders if he should say hi, maybe try apologising for the way he acted last Monday- who is this guy that’s approaching you and why does he look so familiar? 

And why are you smiling so happily?

You beckon to the seat beside you and the guy readily complies, taking the chair beside you like he belonged there, like there weren’t other candidates that should be there instead (he’s not talking about himself. definitely not).

He hands you one of two coffee cups he’s holding. What kind of right does this guy have to give you a coffee? Does he even know your order?

He feels like a bit of creep keenly watching you interact with someone else from a balcony of the library, but the book and laptop in front of him lies forgotten, and in a rare moment of weakness, Alhaitham can’t find it in himself to return to his tasks, pursuit of knowledge momentarily forgotten. He can’t push aside the bile that threatens to rise, he can’t loosen his grip on the couch’s armrest, and he can’t blink for a second in fear of losing you from his sight.

(You’re laughing. Why are you laughing? How can you look so pretty laughing and why doesn’t he ever get to make you laugh like this?)

Alhaitham is losing his damn mind. So much so that the first thing he does when he sees you again is corner you. 

“You shouldn’t talk to that guy anymore.”

You’re backed against the brick walls of the time-worn building that your shared lecture always takes place in, and Alhaitham, spotting you like a hawk, put you in this precarious position as soon as the two hours were over. 

He can’t breathe. It’s been almost three weeks since you last spoke to him and you’re staring up at him like you’ve done nothing wrong, blinking once and twice at his uncharacteristic display of subtle aggression. 

“Who?” you mutter, shaking your head to try and grasp reality once again. you hug your laptop closer to your body. “What’s this about?”

“I said you shouldn’t talk to that guy anymore.” 

“What guy?” 

“Your project partner.”

“Really?” you mutter in disbelief.

He nods, teal eyes shining at you firmly. “Really. The project’s over, you don’t need to talk to him anymore.” 

“I don’t recall ever giving you the right to dictate who gets to be in my life or not, just like how you can’t tell me what to do with my time.” 

“I’m looking out for you, so stop trying to make me sound tyrannical.” 

Your mouth hangs open as you furrow your eyebrows, growing more and more frustrated with each second. So much for thinking that he wanted to resolve the awkwardness between the two of you. “I’m not even going to argue with you,” you murmur a quick ‘jerk’ under your breath before brushing past him. 

Alhaitham, however, is not willing to let you go as easily as you wish, quick to chase after you. Not that you go far anyways, turning around to face him again in the spaciousness of the vacant hallway. “Why do you care?” You ask, exasperated. “You’re Alhaitham, you don’t let trivial things like who I hangout with bother you, you’re cool and collected and rational, and I just don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”

He doesn’t understand either, not the erratic beating of his heart, the stubbornness of his mind, nor this undisputable urge to keep you all to himself. Is it normal to want to hide someone for selfish reasons?

Trailing off, Alhaitham is slightly humiliated that for the first time in his life, someone has witnessed him coming short of an answer. No logical conclusion, no explanation, not even a satisfying quip, just plain, suffocating silence.

“Right. When you do have an answer, let me know.” You walk away.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Your last rebuttal still weighs heavily on Alhaitham’s mind, even two days later as he and Kaveh are seated for a lecture in a shared course. His thoughts are scrambled like never before, the messiness of it all making him feel uneasy because for once, he doesn’t have an appropriate answer to a question.

Why was he acting like a temperamental teenager? What you did with your life was up to you, and indeed he has no right trying to change that. More importantly, why was it so hard to apologise for the stuff he said-

“So, how’s everything between you and Y/n?” 

Kaveh turns to him with widened eyes whilst Alhaitham’s poker face doesn’t move an inch, deceivingly apathetic.

“Good, we’ve been hanging out a lot more recently,” the other guy says, who Alhaitham quickly recognises to be your project partner and distaste rises in his stomach like bile. 

“Aye, good for you, man! So when are you going to ask Y/n out?”

“No way, bro, not yet. I’m such a wimp, but I hope I grow the balls to ask soon because I really like-”

“-looks like you got some competition!” The blond nudges Alhaitham, and if it were anyone else, they would not have glanced twice at the grey-haired who seemed unmoving and uninterested. However, Kaveh is not anyone else because he noticed the darkened look in Alhaitham’s eyes instantly, anger seeping into his composed gaze as his nose scrunches in disgust. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“So, you and Alhaitham still aren’t talking?” Kaveh asks, leaning on the table of the restaurant with curious ears, hoping that he can grab some answers out of you as to why there was a stalemate between you and his roommate.

“Nope,” you sigh. 

“Why not?”

“I’m just-” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “I’m just waiting on an apology from him.”

“An apology? Why? What did he say?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“You know how he is. Always insufferably secretive, so no, I don’t know anything that happened.” 

“Alhaitham just said some hurtful things to me, and he was being weird when I told him I was going to dinner with a friend of mine. Just kept being in my business.”

“Really?” The architecture student quirks a brow, confusion plastered on his face. “That’s not like Alhaitham at all.”

“I know, right? He kept trying to be like ‘don’t hang out with him’ and ridiculed me for not playing my part as an executive of the Sumeru society,” you complained, “like sorry I have other things I want to do.”

Kaveh nods in understanding as the conversation briefly stops when the waiter comes to drop off utensils at your table. As soon as they were gone, however, you begin again.

“And even though he was all up in my business, trying to tell me what not to do, he then said that I wasn’t special, which is so confusing because like-”

“-hold on. Alhaitham said that you weren’t special?” You nod at his parroted claim. “To him?” 

“Yeah. Stung like shit when he said that, especially since I thought we were friends but guess not,” you murmur sadly, fiddling with the fork.

Later that night, almost immediately after meeting you over dinner, Kaveh barges into his roommate’s room, not even changing out of his outside clothes. The sudden intrusion shocks Alhaitham who was busy typing on a document, textbook splayed open beneath him but momentarily forgotten as the blond takes a seat on the bed.

“What the- not even a hello?” The grey-haired asks, confused by this uncharacteristic silence of Kaveh’s. It’s pretty normal for the blond to barge into his room without notice, but it was not normal for him to be so quiet, practically brooding on the mattress. “Whatever. Where have you been? Have you eaten yet, because I made-”

“When will you just confess to Y/n?”

The mention of your name causes a spike in Alhaitham’s heartbeat and he swivels around instantly, attention fully directed towards his roommate. “Where is this coming from?”

“Y/n told me everything that happened between you two by the way-”

“-what, when?”

“Tonight, we just met for dinner.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“What would you have done if you knew? Showed up and made things worse?” He doesn’t say anything in retaliation, merely shutting his mouth and furrowing his eyebrows. “Why did you say that Y/n wasn’t special to you?” 

“I didn’t,” Alhaitham sighs, very loud and very perplexed. “I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did.”

“Don’t you miss Y/n? You two used to hangout so often.”

“I do, of course I do!” He exclaims, burrowing his face in his hands. 

“So why aren’t you apologising?” 

“Because whenever I’m around Y/n, I’m not who I normally am,” he mutters, “especially everything whenever that project partner is around-”

“Jealous, much?”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Oh come on, you’re ridiculous. Stop pushing away your feelings and just be honest with yourself, Alhaitham! Y/n is not just a friend to you and you know it.”

“But, we are just friends-”

“So you mean to tell me that if I hung out with someone else- like if I hung out with Cyno, you would be pissed?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Then why is it different with Y/n?” Once again, Alhaitham doesn’t have an answer to the question, sitting as still as a statue hunched over his desk. “Fine, I’ll spell it out to you. You like Y/n, more than just a friend!”

The silence leftover from Kaveh’s outburst is tense and full as the grey-haired lets the words sink in. 

“I’ll let you think about it,” the blond murmurs, voice softening dramatically as he stalks out of the room. Before he closes the door, however, he leaves a few final words. “Just- be honest with yourself, Alhaitham, and I wouldn’t delay trying to talk to Y/n.”

A sharp click rings through the room.

Alhaitham is no stranger to being alone, for who needs the company of others when you are happiest by yourself? Yet, in the weeks that you have not been speaking to him, a cardinal urge as been growing each and each day, wanting him to do something so atypical of him: to reach out and make the first move. Every passing day doesn’t lessen the thoughts that plague his mind, rather, they make him more and more impatient, because what if you get swept away by your project partner? 

(What if he’ll be too late? What if you won’t know of these powerful emotions that are steering through the storm in his heart? What if you won’t know just how badly he was been wanting you- wanting to see you, wanting to apologise, wanting to see you beam at him like you always would.

What if you won’t know that he adores you, especially now that he’s figured it out?).

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

A rain droplet falls and lands on your nose, another lands on your forehead, then another lands on your lip then more and more keep falling from the cloudy sky, falling through the leaves and landing on the bench you were currently sitting on. Goodness, you should have checked the weather before leaving your dorm. Why was it now out of all times that it had to rain, what would Alhaitham think after he finally decided to reach out to talk?

Taking your phone out to message the grey-haired about relocating, an umbrella is suddenly held over you, stopping the gentle drizzle from falling onto you. Looking up, you’re greeted by a familiar face that you have been missing too much recently.

“Hello, you,” you breathe, voice gentle and quiet and Alhaitham feels like he can finally breathe after so long, the scent of rain washing away all perplexion.

He nods at you in greeting before offering you the bouquet of flowers he was holding. A gorgeous arrangement of pink of white stare prettily at you and a man even more gorgeous expects you to accept it.

“For me?” You ask.

“For you.”

“Thank you, they’re so beautiful,” you take his gift with gentle hands, holding it close to your chest. 

“I want to apologise,” he firmly states, getting straight to the point; very Alhaitham of him. “For treating you the way I have been recently.”

You beam at him, so bright and so gorgeous that it renders him speechless, a feat pretty difficult when it comes to someone like Alhaitham who has a whole dictionary of words, in multiple languages too. Somehow, they all flock out of his mind the second you smile at him.  

“I accept your apology, thank you for reaching out, must have been hard for someone like you, huh?” You tease, standing up from the bench.

“Well, I had do for someone as special as you.” The grey-haired’s voice is deceivingly confident and assured, but you know better, especially when he looks away to hide his expression with his neatly styled bangs. 

“No need for the flattery, you know, I’ve already forgiven you.” There’s a moment of silence that occupies the air, caused by Alhaitham’s hesitation as he fishes his brain for the courage to ask you out. You speak before he can get a word out, however. “I got asked out the other day.”

“By your groupmate?”

“He has a name, you know, but, yeah. I rejected him, though,” you laugh awkwardly, almost like you were trying to cope with it by playing it off. “Did you know that he would do that?” 

“Yes. I did.”

“Is that why you were so adamant on me not hanging out with him?”

“I guess you could say that. We can talk more about it another time,” he tells you, voice gentle and caring to mask the subtle hit of jealousy he feels in his chest, scolding himself for letting someone else confess to you before him. However, it’s a minute sensation in comparison to the triumph Alhaitham feels knowing that you rejected the other party. 

“We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

“We do, but I want to ask you something first.” 

You nod, hugging the bouquet closer to your chest, anticipation heavy in the air as you spur him to continue. 

“If I asked you out, would you reject me too?”

A mere second passes by where you don’t respond, yet the second stretches out to what feels like eternity as Alhaitham’s stomach churns. Patience is something he doesn’t lack, but how can he be patient when his heart wants you so bad? 

Then, you take his hand, and the heavens sing at the feeling of your hand in his. “I wouldn’t, but are you asking me out?”

“Are you free right now?”

“I am. Why?”

“Let’s go out then. On a date.”

“I'd love to.” You rise up to place a lingering kiss on his cheek, one that has his heart racing with joy rather than frustration.

The smile you earn is gentle, shy, but says more than Alhaitham's words ever can.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

#i didn't edit this btw don't judge #alhaitham x reader #al-haitham x reader #alhaitham x you #al haitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #fluff #alhaitham fluff #al-haitham fluff #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #alhaitham fic #genshin fic

[yuuuhiii]

Megumi is a thigh man. You can fight me on this idc. (Nah I’d win)

In the beginning of your relationship before you guys had done anything intimate. When you were sat down, in his car, or just over in his room. He’d always have his big hand slowly rubbing your thigh. It became a recurring gesture that he never really caught on to, but you did.

So one day when you’re in his dorm, on his bed, with your thighs on each side of his face you pop the question.

“Hey gumi?”

He hums, his hand mindlessly rubbing your thigh as he reads his book.

“Why do you like my thighs so much?”

That halts his movement against your thigh, he tried to peer up at you but concluded he probably looks stupid from his position. So he gets up and is now sat in front of you with your legs still spread.

“Dunno, they’re just nice I guess.” He’s blushing, avoiding all eye contact with you.

“That’s it hm?”

He rolls his eyes at your teasing tone.

“They’re soft, I like squeezing them.”

“More than my tits and ass?”

“Yes.”

You smirk at his reply and he huffs, returning to his position with his book and a flushed face.

Megumi is a thigh man, of course, he loves when you wear those mini skirts or thigh highs, it gets him so fucking worked up.

He’s over the moon when you let him fuck your thighs, asking shyly if you could keep on the stockings and skirt. He loses all self-control, whining and nipping at your neck. “S’good” and heavy groans leave his mouth as he finally cums on your plush skin.

He loves it when he eats you out and your thighs practically suffocate him to death. He’d die a happy man if that was a way to go. The moment your thighs encase around his head he’s humping his mattress like a bitch in heat, moans vibrating on your cunt.

Megumi fucks you in a mating press, his big hands on the back of your thighs, gripping the flesh and folding you in half as he fucks his fat dick in you.

Once he’s in between your legs he can’t help but litter the inside of your thighs with marks.

One time when you were wearing a skirt you didn’t notice that Megumi had left marks from the night before. Nobara questioned if you were okay, to which you quickly lied and said it was from training.

If it was anyone else Megumi would kill them for looking down there. He pops a vein when he sees Yuuji trying to look at what Nobara is talking about. Despite being a little irked he stands behind you and wears a smug smirk, a rare sight for the three of you.

When it’s just the two of you again, behind closed doors you confront him.

“Megs! Why didn’t you tell me?” You pout and he softly smiles, pulling you to straddle him, you can already guess where his hands are.

“Sorry, kinda forgot.” He mumbles, leading your lips to his.

“You gonna let me give you some more?”

He’ll always be a slut for your thighs♡~

#—jjk #megumi x y/n #megumi x you #megumi x reader #megumi smut #megumi imagine #megumi drabble #megumi scenario #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fushiguro smut #megumi fushiguro imagine #fushiguro x you #fushiguro x y/n #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro smut #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #jjk scenarios #jjk smut #jjk megumi

[lilislegacy]

i love how in heroes of olympus, there’s a boat full of couples (+leo☺️). and yet even if you didn’t know when each couple started dating, it’s so blatantly obvious that percy and annabeth have been together the longest, and are the most serious

cause frank and hazel are still pretty nervous/unsure with each other. they JUST started dating, and are so pure and adorable. they just haven’t quite figured out the romance part yet

and jason and piper have their moments, but they’re just so… distant. like not physically, of course, but they just don’t really seem to connect on a deep level. and they aren’t super affectionate, at least not physically or openly. piper is constantly unsure about where they’re at, and while jason has thoughts about how great piper is, he doesn’t openly show his feelings too often.

but percabeth? they’re the oldest in age (physically), have known each other the longest, and have been romantically committed to each other for the most time. they act like they’ve been together for eternity, which is funny since they were technically only dating for 4 months before percy got abducted. but they just have such a deep history together and such an intense connection. they’re in it for the long run. there’s no doubt or uncertainty - and it shows. like…annabeth is so wife girlfriend. there are so many funny/cute little moments, like her scolding him for putting too much syrup on his pancakes, and telling him to take a shower when he smells bad. and when percy suggests him and jason should go on a dangerous quest instead of annabeth and piper, instead of being like “omg he cares so much about me😍” (which hazel and piper would have done) annabeth is like “what seaweed brain?? you think two guys can do better than two girls??” and percy is immediately like “uh uh NO nope i definitely do NOT think that!!” he knows better. the immediate fear is so husband boyfriend of him. they simultaneously have the most disagreements (remember when percy called annabeth out when she thought she should navigate through rome alone, and basically called her stupid for thinking it was a good idea, and then they argued and had a face-off, which percy won) - while also being the most lovey dovey (they’re constantly putting their hands on each other - annabeth putting her hand on his chest to calm him down, putting their hands on each other’s arms for support, percy having his arm around her when they’re at the edge of the ship, always giving each other a kiss on the mouth or the cheek when they separate, etc). and they have no issues sneaking off in the middle of the night to do some talking and kissing. and quite frankly, making out in front of piper in BoO (remember that? when piper got super uncomfortable at how long their kiss was lasting, and then annabeth let out, and i quote, “grunt-whimpers”). they are just so natural and comfortable with each other. piper says it herself.

i just think it’s so funny. little frazel being adorable and blushing when they hold hands, jiper is happy to be dating but they’re also a little angsty and uncertain, and then there’s percabeth just being the old married couple they are. (and leo is being cute and fixing stuff)

#i love percabeth being an old married couple #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #jason grace #piper mclean #jiper #frank zhang #hazel levesque #frazel #leo valdez #heroes of olympus #pjo