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lovelyhan · 1 year

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enemies to lovers prompt #10 "I'm not driving home with you..." with mingyu, thx <3

— vices & virtues ⟢

being from one of the most opulent families in the city, you're used to getting everything you want. but when you realize that your hot bodyguard is strictly off-limits, you treat him like anything else you can't have: with unbridled hostility.

★ FEATURING; bodyguard!mingyu x reader

★ WORD COUNT; 5.4k words

★ TAGS; enemies to lovers, unresolved sexual tension, smut

★ WARNINGS; alcohol consumption, cigarettes, implied/referenced drug use, self-destructive behavior in general, (probably inaccurate) discussions about drug poisoning, graphic sexual content (MINORS DNI)

★ NOTES; when i tell you i speedwrote this just in time for mingyu day,,, eugh i love you so much gyugyu and thank you to the anon who sent this in a while back!! this prompt was so tasty to work with!

★ SMUT TAGS; unprotected sex, couch sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, dacryphilia, size kink, mating press, overstimulation, creampie

★ SVT TAGLIST; @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @spk93 - @tommolex - @stariightjoyy - @asjkdk - @horny4hoshi

★ MINGYU TAGLIST; @ @renjunphile - @acgyu - @potatofrieswithketchup - @pluviophile-xxx - @pretty-trustme - @zeenanigans - @noveniadelia

When the tiniest sliver of consciousness slips into your inebriated brain, you feel the cold tile of the bathroom floor being pried off your face. Well, more like you're being gently lifted off it, and into the arms of someone warm.

You nearly lean into their embrace until you catch a whiff of that familiar, musky cologne with hint of something like pine. It takes you some effort to keep yourself from bolting out of his grasp and retching your guts out in the toilet again.

You deign to squint your eyes despite the harsh fluorescent light razing your vision. Looking down on you is none other than Kim Mingyu, gaze as indifferent as ever. Unfortunately, you're too drunk or high to figure out how he even found you here, but you know there's no weaseling your way out when your father's little lapdog has tracked you down.

"What're you doing here?" you still ask even if you knew the answer.

It's my job to take care of you.

"It's my job to take care of you," he says the words in the same way you imagined him to—apathetic. Indecipherable.

"Fuck you. I don't need you to take care of me," you scoff. "My friends'll drop me off at my apartment like they always do."

Mingyu rolls his eyes. "You mean the same friends who called me because they're tired of having to clean up after your shit? I don't want to be here either, princess, but I'm actually getting paid to keep you in line, if you hadn't known that yet."

There's something so unfairly attractive in the snark in his tone, and you fucking hate him for it. Mostly, you hate yourself for even thinking that anything about Mingyu is remotely alluring.

In the end, you just tell yourself that you're an objective person. You have eyes, and it won't cost anything to admit that Mingyu is conventionally attractive. Even if you did hate his guts.

Not that he'll ever hear you admit that aloud, though.

You're vaguely aware of how the hem of your too-short dress rides up your thighs as Mingyu rises back to his full height—having no problems carrying you out of the bathroom bridal-style.

Under normal circumstances, you would've struggled. Proved that you could very much handle yourself despite being obviously hammered. But your head is spinning, and your limbs feel like they'll disintegrate any second.

Eyes closed, you press your face into the fine fabric of Mingyu's suit—breathing in the same scent that repulsed you not five minutes earlier in an attempt at anchoring your consciousness.

As Mingyu maneuvers you out of the bathroom, the loud bass blaring from the speakers at the frat party you've decided to attend last minute rings in your eardrums. You don't have to see your surroundings to know you've got onlookers. Those unsubtle comments are clue enough to know you're being watched.

Who is that? Her boyfriend?

No, idiot, that's probably her bodyguard or some shit. Her family's loaded as fuck.

So lucky. If I had a bodyguard like that, I'd totally let him smash.

The real question is: would he let you smash?

Fuck you.

You want to flash them the most disgusted look you could muster. As if you'd stoop low enough to fuck Mingyu, of all people. Don't they know who you are? You could easily let any man or woman you wanted on their knees for you.

You were supposed to stick to your regular routine of getting railed into the next day after a few drinks and sticks, but you obviously got a little too excited about the new strains your friends snuck into the party. Now you're being princess carried by a man you absolutely despise, too shit-faced to even be remotely desired by anyone else at the moment.

Still, never in a million years would you consider having this guy as a bodyguard lucky.

You can tell you're outside when the music starts to fade in the distance and the cold starts to prickle your legs and arms. A somewhat coherent part of you recalls leaving your designer jacket in the coatrack of the frat house, and if you weren't so fucking shit-faced, you would've yelled at Mingyu to go back and get it.

But just before you can consider asking him somewhat nicely, you hear him unlock a car that definitely doesn't sound like yours—making your ears perk up, and your consciousness flood back in much faster.

"What are you—?"

You thrash in Mingyu's arms until he lets you down on the ground—throwing him a stone-cold glare right after. The fact that your pedicured feet are in direct contact with the asphalt makes your rage spike further. How dare this asshole leave your Valentinos behind? He might as well have just left you at the party altogether!

"I'm not driving home with you," you growl.

Mingyu's expression doesn't even budge. "You're not driving. I am."

"Don't try to be fucking smart with me. I'm high, not stupid."

Folding your arms across your chest, you try to pretend that you're not in the middle of the street, arguing with Mingyu as your blood pressure rises to unimaginable heights.

Unfortunately for you, this isn't the first time your friends have left you in the quote-unquote capable hands of your bodyguard. But every time he did, he would always drive whatever car you chose to bring for the occasion and drop you off at your place.

When he brings a car of his own, however...

"You're bringing me straight to the old man," you grumble. "You think he'll appreciate seeing his daughter all wasted at three in the morning? You think he'll be happy with you when he finds out you let me sneak out like this? Are you stupid or do you actually want to get fired?"

"And who told you I was going to bring you to him?" Mingyu shakes his head, letting out a long-winded sigh. "Like I said, I don't want to be here either. The last thing I need is even more overtime after your father sets you straight."

That makes you pause, eyes widening with a hint of mistrust. Mingyu listens to every word his employer says. He's the perfect little lapdog. So perfect that sneaking out for these nightly escapades of yours have grown increasingly difficult with how good he is at finding you and bringing you home.

So hearing him practically say that he won't tattle on you...

"How can I be sure you're not fucking with me? That if I fall asleep in the car, I won't wake up in the courtyard of the old man's stupid mansion?"

"Do I look like I have the energy to deal with both of you at the same time?" he replies sharply, opening the door to the passenger seat with a hint of finality in his actions. "Just get in the fucking car so we can all head to bed before sunrise."

The sound of the house party still in full swing echoes in your ears from the distance. Your skin tingles a little beneath the heat of Mingyu's mildly pissed off gaze, and you let out a shuddering breath to keep yourself from giving the feeling a name.

"Fine."

...

Good news: you made it safely back to your apartment without anyone alerting your father about your true whereabouts.

Bad news: Mingyu just won't fucking leave.

He insisted that you get yourself refreshed with a shower first before he talks to you in the living room. The same guy that right-out said that you should hop in the passenger seat of his car so you'd both be asleep before the sun rises. The clock is already pushing past four in the morning, and Mingyu still insists on lecturing you before he leaves?

You of all people know how obstinate he can be. He's even more stubborn than you are, if you're being completely honest. So even if it wounds your pride to play along with what he has planned, you head back to your living room right after slipping on your usual nightgown—flashing Mingyu a look to remind him you're not at all pleased with whatever bullshit he wants to talk about.

However, your irritation ebbs a little when you see a plate of your favorite cookies sitting on the coffee table, along with a glass of water and a sheet of Advil.

Your gaze drifts from the snacks to your bodyguard, who looks more dressed down than usual. His coat is folded neatly, hanging off one side of your couch, and the first three buttons of his dress shirt are undone.

You gulp, prying your eyes off the sliver of chest he's willingly exposed before seating a respectable distance away.

"What did you want to talk about?" You try to sound casual as you leaned forward, reaching for a cookie and the glass of water without as much initiating eye contact.

"You smoked a few joints at the party, didn't you?"

You take a bite, washing it down with your drink before replying with, "So what if I did? A little kush isn't going to kill anybody, Mingyu."

"We both know 'a little' doesn't exist in your vocabulary, princess," he points out, crossing his arms with an unimpressed look. "Anyway, I'm not your father, so I typically don't care about what drugs you're taste testing every night—"

"Are you implying that you suddenly care now?"

"With a new poisonous marijuana strain circulating in the underground market? Of course I do."

You do a double take on that, staring at him hard as you begrudgingly swallow your cookie, "What? Underground market? And what do you mean poisonous?"

Mingyu lets out another sigh when he leans forward to reach for the box of cigarettes and a lighter you left strewn across your coffee table. You're even more surprised to see him lighting himself a stick and taking a drag than you were when he prepared some snacks and water for you.

"Some Columbian drug cartels thought it would be funny to infiltrate surface-level drug transactions. Long story short, they invented some fucked up strain laced with belladonna and smuggled it into the market under the impression that it's a new sativa strain."

You absolutely have no idea how Mingyu even got ahold of this information, but realizing the implication of his words has your stomach sinking with dread. If what he's saying is true, it's no wonder you were out so fucking quick tonight.

"I'm not gonna die within twenty four hours, right?" you half-joke because, Jesus, you're adventurous with your drugs, but you wouldn't willingly take something that can actually kill you.

To your relief, Mingyu shakes his head. "I don't know the science behind it either, but I was told sativa tones down the poisonous effect of belladonna by a huge margin. The worst you'll experience is a fever and a nasty cough if you don't do anything about it."

"Gee, way to be reassuring."

Mingyu scoffs before taking another drag of his cigarette. Your gaze is riveted on the cut of his jaw as he inhales the smoke with eyes closed. It's only when he flicks the ashes in a small ashtray you left by the small table beside the couch that you realize he's pushed the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows—exposing a good deal of his toned arms.

You immediately take a huge gulp of water, not wanting such unsavory thoughts about an unsavory person to surface now, of all times.

You might be more refreshed after your shower, but if you're starting to ogle Kim Mingyu, the strange joints you've been hitting all night might've messed with your head more than you thought.

"That's why we're going to the doctor tomorrow—"

You scowl. "Like hell I'm going to pay Doctor Yoon a visit. That guy's the biggest tattletale in the world. He'll definitely tell the old man. Oh, and I actually have classes tomorrow if you're forgetting, Mingyu."

"You're pretending to attend those now that it's convenient for you?" He smirks as he breathes out another puff of smoke. "Nice try, princess. But don't worry your pretty little head about it. I'll take you to another doctor I know—someone who won't get us both in trouble by telling your father that you've been smoking bad weed."

"Again, way to be fucking reassuring."

The silence finally settles as you nibble contemplatively on the snacks he brought for you. You're can say for sure that you're most certainly sober now, so Mingyu's words have got you thinking.

But it's a little difficult to think about the state of your health when you've got a sort-of uninvited guest manspreading right next to you on the couch.

"Aren't you going to leave?" you ask. "Just text me what time we're going to visit that doctor friend of yours."

"How would you feel if you got told to scram while you're in the middle of a smoke?" Mingyu flashes you an annoyed look. "For the third time, I don't even want to be here, princess. At least let me have this as compensation for saving your sorry ass."

He's so fucking infuriating.

The rough undercurrent in his voice. The perpetual upward curve of his lips as if he always has the upper hand. His beefy arms. His built chest.

...Not to mention his unexpected thoughtfulness when he decided to stick around and inform you about what you might've gotten yourself into instead of leaving you to fend for yourself. He even brought out your favorite cookies for good measure.

You never really know what to do with Kim fucking Mingyu. He stirs up all sorts of confusing feelings inside your chest at any given time, and frankly, you've had enough of it.

You allow yourself to relish in the pride that swells in your chest when he nearly drops his half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray the moment you crawl on top of his lap.

Mingyu's mouth quivers with some sensible words his job description probably requires him to say, but you rob him of his ability to speak when you steal the cancer stick from his fingers. In one long breath, you smoke the cigarette down to the filter—killing it on your ashtray before leaning down to press your lips to his.

With how stunned he is, it doesn't take a lot of effort to pry Mingyu's mouth open, breathing the smoke into his mouth. Once you're satisfied, you pull away with a triumphant smirk.

"Now you're done," you say, making the motions to get off his lap. "I'm heading to bed. Don't wake me up before noon for that doctor's appointment or else I'm going to slash your ti—"

You don't even get to finish that sentence. Mingyu suddenly flips you over so that your back is pressed against the couch and he's lying on top of you—both knees planted on either side of your hips as he gazes at you with an ireful glare.

"W-What are you doing?" you whisper, but in spite of the protesting nature of your words, you can't help but feel a pang of white hot desire shoot straight through you when you feel just how big he is now that his body is pressed against yours.

"Teaching a bad girl a lesson," he whispers, grabbing your face roughly. "You can't just pull off shit like that and expect to walk away from it unscathed, princess."

Fuck. That nickname he always uses never fails to get on your nerves on any other day. But when he sounds like that and has you under him like this...

"What are you gonna do about it then?" you ask.

Mingyu chuckles darkly, as he squishes your face with his big, long fingers. You nearly shudder at the thought of what those digits could do to you if you just pushed the right buttons.

"You'll just have to fuck around and find out."

When the pressure of his strong grip leaves your cheeks, confusion paints your features. Mingyu's weight eases off your pliant body almost immediately as well, leaving you to scowl at him incredulously. He doesn't even look at you as he collects his coat from where it hangs off your couch.

But before he can even think about putting it back on, something not so different from a growl resonates deep in your chest as you sit back up—tugging on the collar of his shirt to smash your lips together.

Mingyu all but groans into the kiss, but you're not sure if you can even call it that. There's nothing but hunger fueling the both of you as your tongue slides alongside his, mapping out each other's mouths like your lives depended on it.

You vaguely hear his coat fall to the floor as Mingyu goes back to crowding you against the couch—one of his strong arms circling your waist as he grinds his hips against your middle. It's nearly embarrassing how willing you are to receive his advances.

You, the same person who told your bodyguard you refused to drive home with him, are now making out with said bodyguard at four in the morning.

But then again, who fucking cares?

"You have no idea," he whispers hoarsely against your lips and you let out a stifled moan when you feel the outline of his erection rut against your clothed pussy, "how much you drive me insane. You're such a fucking handful, you know that?"

"I'm glad to know I make your life miserable," you bite back despite the fact that, when Mingyu brings down the straps of your nightgown to expose your breasts to the cool air, you do nothing about it.

Mingyu lets out a harsh laugh. "You're probably into this, aren't you, princess? You like riling me up so much so that I'd snap and teach you a lesson?"

You want to tell him that he's being fucking full of himself if he thinks you've planned this that far back. But with how massive he feels through his trousers alone, you can't say that you don't want him inside you right this second.

It doesn't help that he's giving your chest a generous amount of attention—suckling at your nipples in a way that has you twitching beneath him with sensitivity.

"So what if I am?" you say, testing the limits of what he'll let you get away with. "You talk big about teaching me a lesson but you're being awfully careful with me. Aren't you going to shove your cock down my throat to get me to shut up?"

Mingyu chuckles with a quick shake of his head, like he isn't even taking your words seriously. You let out a sharp yelp when he bites down on one of your breasts—leaving a distinct imprint of his canines on your skin before staring into your eyes.

"I can choke you with my cock next time, princess. For now, I just want to make you come until you're crying for me."

Fuck.

Mingyu wastes no time. He immediately sinks to his knees on the floor, hauling your hips closer to the edge of the couch so that he can hook your thighs over his shoulders. When he realizes that you're not wearing any underwear underneath your flimsy satin nightgown, you swear the noise he makes is near animalistic.

"Don't get f-fucking cocky," you stammer, nerves alight everywhere his lips graze your inner thighs. "I don't usually wear underwear before going to sleep! This wasn't for you."

"It is now," Mingyu says before licking a long stripe from your leaking hole to your aching clit. He holds your thighs far apart as his lips latch onto that little bundle of nerves, alternating with delicious licks at your sensitive folds.

He practically smothers his face into your cunt as he continues his relentless assault on your clit. By the time Mingyu starts to tease his tongue along your entrance, your fingers have found their way into his unruly hair—moans falling from your lips with little concern about appearances.

Mingyu pulls away for a moment, and you nearly snap at him from that alone until he eases one of those thick fingers into your wet channel—dark eyes trained on you as he stretches you out with a hungry gaze.

You don't even feel any semblance of shame when you start to ride that single digit, wanting to feel him go deeper and spread you wider. Fortunately, your bodyguard is more attentive than you think, and it doesn't take long for him to ease another finger into your needy pussy, curling them just so once he's sure he's found that spot that'll render you an incoherent mess.

The sound he rips out of you is unholy and Mingyu growls again before his mouth finds its way back onto your cunt—getting lost in the taste of you on his tongue.

"Where's the fight you've been putting up against me all this time, princess?" he taunts just before those stupidly thick fingers graze that sensitive patch of flesh inside you again. "Are you that desperate? You've fucked yourself up so much tonight that you couldn't bring anyone back home. Your bodyguard's gonna have to do, huh?"

You know you should be affronted by how offensive his words are. Mingyu might be an expert at getting on your nerves, but with how good his fucking mouth feels as he laves at your cunt like a man starved, you can't even let yourself feel any modicum of annoyance.

"M-Mingyu," you gasp as he suckles on your clit again—steadily building your orgasm from the ground-up. "I'm gonna come, f-fuck!"

Three. Mingyu slides in three fingers at your admission, and you nearly cry with how wide he's stretching you out. This time, he switches from sucking at your clit to rapidly flicking his tongue against the sensitive pearl.

Your toes curl with oversensitivity, thighs nearly crushing his head as you frame the syllables of his name in another wanton moan. When Mingyu curls his fingers inside you one more time, the tension that's been building in your stomach snaps like a rubber band.

Once you teeter off the precarious edge of release, you feel a gush of slick surge out of your cunt and into his awaiting mouth. Mingyu laps it all up—his sinful tongue catching every drop of your tangy essence. If you didn't know better, you would think he's desperate for you as much as you are for him.

It takes a while for your mind to fully come back online after that first orgasm, chest heaving almost painfully with how Mingyu took your breath away with oral alone. When you finally have your wits about you, your bodyguard surges forward so that your faces are levelled, and you nearly groan when you see the way his mouth and chin glisten with your juices.

"So fucking delicious for me," he rasps. "Gonna let me have a taste of this pussy every time now, princess? Want my mouth on you before you sleep?

"Do whatever you want, Gyu," you mewl, tugging him closer as you position yourself horizontally on the couch. "N-Need you so bad."

He sighs, unbuttoning the rest of his dress shirt as he drinks in the sight of you all fucked out and compliant because of his mouth and fingers alone. Your lips are parted, eyes glistening with tears or desire—Mingyu can't say for sure just yet.

But if he can get you this wrecked from oral, he can't fucking wait to see what you'll look like after he gets you to cream on his cock.

His shirt falls to the floor and you can't contained the awed gasp that leaves you at the sight of him. He's built like a fucking sculpture—all lean muscle and hard toned abs. It would make sense for Mingyu to be this well-built, being your bodyguard and all, but the thought of having his body pressed against yours as he fucks you into the couch is sending your mind into overdrive.

"You're so adorable," he chuckles, but you know the words are anything but a compliment. "A moment ago you were challenging everything I said and did. Now you're suddenly an agreeable little thing. Are you that cock-hungry, princess? Want something to fill that pretty pussy?"

"Yes." You don't even hesitate. "Yes, yes, yes. Want your cock in me. Want you to fill me up, Gyu. Please..."

Fortunately for you, Mingyu isn't one to tease. The moment you've given him the green light to rearrange your insides, he steps out of his tight trousers and boxers at the same time, pumping his thick cock in one hand as he nudges your thighs apart once again.

You practically salivate at the thought that you're about to take all those delicious inches inside you. Mingyu doesn't miss the starry look on your face, but doesn't take the time to gloat about it. Instead, he leans all the way forward so that your thighs are squished against your chest—easing your legs across his shoulders in a position that's not so different from when he ate you out earlier.

"Gonna fuck the attitude out of you, princess," he promises before pressing a kiss on the corner of your mouth. "You ready for me?"

You nod a little too eagerly, forcing his face into the crook of your neck as you wrap your arms around his head. "Gyu, please..."

"Alright. Since you asked so nicely."

He doesn't even give any forewarning when he bottoms out inside you in one languid stroke. A choked up noise gets caught in your chest with how sudden he was, how full you feel in such a short amount of time, but Mingyu doesn't give you any time to think, or even to breathe.

Before you can even get a single word out, he's pulling his hips back—making you feel every inch of his thick cock before slamming his hips forward with a powerful thrust that drives you further into the sofa. You let out a long-winded moan, unable to do anything about it as he pounds into you with the vigor of someone who's been putting up with your shit for a better part of the year.

"Pussy's so fucking tight for me," he growls. "You're squeezing my cock so good, princess. Is this all I had to do so you'd stop driving me crazy? Eat you out a little and dick you down 'til you forget your name?"

You can't even process what he's saying right now—too lost in the sensation of his cockhead grazing your cervix with each forward stroke. He's reaching into you so deep that you might really just forget everything but the letters of Mingyu's name by the time he's done with you.

"M-Mingyu," you drawl dumbly as he peppers your neck with bites and bruises—unrelenting with his deep strokes as your cunt flutters around his length. "Fuck. L-Love your cock so much—oh!"

You let out a gasp that Mingyu quickly muffles with his own mouth as he adjusts your positions on the sofa—easing your legs off of his shoulders in exchange for spreading them wider on the cushions. How he manages to do that without his cock slipping out of you is a testament to your flexibility, and he's already cooking up what he'll do about that information for next time.

Mingyu continues kissing you all while he plants one foot on the couch and the other on the floor. When he tugs your hips even closer it's only then that you realize that the lunatic has you in a mating press.

"How long have you been thinking about me fucking you like this?" he whispers, deciding to drag it out with slow, deep thrusts that only serve to frustrate you. "You wouldn't have let me go this far if you hadn't thought about it at least once, princess."

I've wanted to fuck you since the old man introduced us, is the correct answer but you've still got some shred of dignity. If Mingyu wants the truth, he's going to have to work for it.

"Fuck me again after this, and I might give you an answer," you rasp, meeting his lazy thrusts with some of your own to get the point that you want him to ram into you across.

"There she is," Mingyu laughs. "My nasty, sharp-tongued princess. Thought I lost you for a sec."

"You will if you don't fuck me until I black out."

"Oh? All you had to do was ask, you know."

Then and there, Mingyu makes good of that interesting position he'd unknowingly lured you into—plunging that fat cock even deeper into your pussy if that's even possible. It felt heavenly, taking all of him while your legs dangled off his shoulders, but there's just something about having your legs spread impossibly wide as he drills into you with the full intention of making you come until you're crying that does it for you.

As each second passes, Mingyu's thrusts become more erratic—hips snapping with hard, calculated strokes so fucking good that tears are starting to glisten along the lines of your lashes like he promised.

You mewl his name like a string of prayers as the sound of your cunt squelching with every thrust rings in your ears. It's insane how close he's driven you to the edge in the span of thirty minutes, and you're starting to grow fearful of how addicting it feels to have him inside you like this.

At this point, you'd rather get off on Mingyu's cock than get high from some shady sativa joint. Something tells you he'd rather have that, too.

"Where do you want me, princess?" he whispers into your ear, reaching between your legs to give you just the right pressure you've been missing on your clit. You have to bite back a sob when he presses his thumb against it.

"Inside," you whimper as he continues plunging his engorged length into you. "Fill me with your cum, please, Gyu. I want it—want it so bad."

Mingyu hisses when you clench around his cock, large hands undoubtedly about to leave bruises on your thighs come morning. When you hear that deep, sexy laugh in your ear, you know it's all over for you.

"Come on my cock first, princess. Then I'll give you what you want."

He punctuates the words by drawing quick, tight circles on your clit all while keeping up the cadence of his thrusts. With the steady stream of stimulation he's so willing to give, it's a no-brainer for another orgasm to blindside you yet again.

You cry out with bliss as you screw your eyes shut—tears running down your cheeks in cascades as you fall apart on Mingyu's cock. He fucks into you despite the overstimulation, his own high not far behind because of the expression you're showing him.

"That's it," he rasps, leaning down to kiss the tears away. "Fucking cry for me, princess."

You're not sure if you're just too blissed out to comprehend it properly, but you're pretty sure that Mingyu just triggered another orgasm from you when you feel him twitch inside—your tight channel being covered in his white hot emission.

It doesn't help that your insatiable lover continues to fuck his cum deeper into your abused cunt, taking full advantage of this position while he can.

"M-Mingyu," you beg, fingers raking across his back as he punches the breath out of your lungs. "Too much. T-Too much."

You thought he wouldn't heed your words, but surprisingly, Mingyu halts every movement to gaze at you with a hint of concern lining his gaze. Wordlessly, he eases himself out of your sore cunt, wiping the tears off your eyes before pressing a kiss on your lips.

"Sorry," he murmurs before gently fixing the straps of your nightgown. He even tugs the hem down despite the fact that his cum is currently leaking out of you. "You want me to tuck you in?"

You nod, lacing your fingers around his neck, the overstimulated mess you are. Mingyu breathes out a quiet laugh before carrying you into his arms again.

"Alright, princess. Let's get you to bed."

You don't have the heart nor the energy to protest. Besides, it's his job to take care of you, after all.

⟢ end notes: reminder to not take any of the medical indications abt drugs that i included in this fic seriously. i made all of those up. oh and this should go w/o saying but don't fuck anyone while under the influence of anything AT ALL !!!

that aside, happy birthday to everyone's favorite puppy boy mingyu! i ended up loving him a lot more as i stanned svt, and i hope everyone else gives him the same love as well! god knows he has lots to give to both his members and his fans ueueue

++ if you spotted a few errors here and there, please don't tell me or i'll die of embarrassment ^_^ this wasn't proofread bcs i wanted to drop this exactly on his bday (i am 1 hour and 34 mins late!) HEHEHE i was sposed to write an ending scene in the morning where gyu wakes up and sees her wearing his shirt while making breakfast but that'll make this too long :| i'll just leave that to ur imagination!

#seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #kim mingyu #svt smut #svt fanfic #lovelyhan #🎲 ask games #full length fic 📚#💭 request

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samwhump · 1 month

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a (very inexhaustive, wincest-heavy) sam whump reclist

@transfemmesam asked me for Sam whump recs a few days ago, and I've had other requests in the same vein before (I can't imagine why.../s) so I thought I would throw this together, since these authors deserve all of the love and support for their contributions to our li'l fandom corner.

like I mentioned in the title, this is not at all a comprehensive list; I have at least ~200 more fics in my to-read queue that could thematically fit here, but alas, I have stupid shit like a job and a body and a dog to take care of, so. I'm always happy to get recs along these lines, so if you notice anything important missing, hit me UP. (and don't take any omissions as any specific commentary by me -- it's likely I just haven't had the chance to read it yet, haha.)

disclaimers:

some (most, honestly) of these contain potentially triggering and dark content, including but not limited to rape/noncon, torture, and suicidal attempts & ideation. I have tried to note content warnings where applicable, and most of the works are hosted on ao3, so the tags should have most of the information you need to make an informed decision. that being said, tread with caution. all of the summaries provided are from the original author, with warnings added after by me.

the list is in alphabetical order and separated into wincest and gen categories. a lot of the gen is also focused on the sam & dean relationship, because...I am what I am. and what I am a sucker for these two dipshits. there is also a brief section at the end with a few fics that don't fit into either category.

gen

All That Goes Unspoken by amnesiawife:

A case forces Sam to confront something long kept buried. (Set nebulously in season 12.)

CW: discussions of past rape/noncon, victim blaming

Beneath the Trees 'verse by Lise (5 works total, starting with Beneath the Trees, Where Nobody Sees):

Sam doesn't go to Stanford. Everything goes downhill from there.

CW: suicidal ideation

a boy is a cage by ad_castra:

After expelling Gadreel from Sam's body, Dean thinks they're in the clear. If only they were that lucky. // S9 fic wherein Gadreel's grace causes some adverse side-effects in Sam's mind.

CW: past referenced rape/noncon, body horror

body of proof by Askance (doomcountry):

There are things Sam hasn't told his brother. They're all in the envelope laid on Dean's pillow.

CW: heavy discussion of past rape/noncon

break these bones 'til they're better by redskyatmorning:

After Sam’s torture at the hands of the British Men of Letters, the latest in a long string of violations, he is rescued by Dean and Mary – and forced to ponder his broken relationship with his own body. Months later, when Sam is resurrected and tormented by Lucifer yet again, Dean confronts Mary and Sam gets his revenge against the devil.

catching my death (staring out an open window) by ad_castra:

Sam gazes at the window, catches the faint pink hue tinting the sky. It’s so realistic - he could breathe in the fresh air if he were really here. ----- They got Sam out. Sometimes, just knowing that isn't enough.

CW: implied past rape/noncon

Death of Convenience by WilsonTheMoose:

It should have been easy. Wendigos are no joke but daylight slows them. The weather's been unpredictable though and perfect, idyllic hunts don't exactly stay that way where they're concerned. Or Sam has one card to play and never stops to think that Dean would care if he killed himself.

CW: suicidal ideation, references to suicide

Echoes of Hell by The_Nightbreaker:

It wasn't real. He wasn't in Hell anymore. That's what he tried to tell himself over and over. But two centuries of torture don't disappear in a day. Sam struggles with visions of Hell, fighting to maintain his grip on reality. Dean hates that he can't protect his brother from what isn't real—but curse him if he doesn't try. When the boys stumble on a case with ties to the Devil himself, will they be able to pull themselves together in time to stop the sacrifices? Or will the echoes of Hell finally overtake them? Aka, season 7, but the plot is Hell trauma, not leviathans.

CW: suicidal ideation

Evening Shadows by withthekeyisking:

Sam is hallucinating the monster who tortured him for nearly two centuries, Dean feels like he's failing his brother, and a diner waitress bears witness.

CW: past rape/noncon

Everything Dies Given Time by Lise:

AU from 5.03. Sam discovers something wrong with himself, and learns to live with it. Only a lot less functional.

CW: suicide/temporary character death

The Freedom to Be Loud by jribbing:

It hadn’t occurred to Dean that maybe Sam remembered so much about that little nowhere town because something memorable had happened there.

CW: referenced past rape/noncon

golgotha by redskyatmorning:

There’s a vacancy on the throne of hell, and Sam is desperate enough to save Dean from Michael’s possession to give into the abyssal depths of his own darkness.

Head Space by ameliacareful:

A witch curses Sam leaving him blind, deaf, and bedridden. Left with only the inside of his own head and the occasional touch, Sam begins to unravel.

CW: suicidal ideation

Hiraeth by inkandpaperqwerty:

(n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past "Dean... I made a really big mistake." For a second, Dean actually thought things were going okay. He was out of Hell, Sam agreed to stop drinking demon blood, they had just wrapped up a successful hunt... for once, everything was okay. And then it wasn't. "I overdosed." Not at all.

CW: suicide attempts, suicidal ideation

if i could leave (i would've already left) by serendipity0930:

“I have a mission from God for you,” the Angel whispers to the man. “It is time for you to do what you were born to.” The man’s face twists into a smile, delighted over being chosen by Him, a purpose from God digging into his heart, carving out a place to fester. “Hunt.” ... 05x03 AU where Zachariah is even more determined to keep the brothers apart and hunters are all too willing to take Lucifer's True Vessel off the board for good

CW: referenced suicide

It's A River (But Not In Egypt) by Lise:

He's still a liar. Maybe always has been.

CW: toxic Sam/Lucifer dynamics

Kindred Instruments by PinBitch:

They’re in a tug of war and Sam is the rope. He doesn’t need to be alive for that. OR Sam dies in detox, being flung against the walls of a metal box will do that to you. Dean and Ruby pick up the pieces.

CW: temporary main character death, permanent supporting character death

lazarus trick by katsidhe:

Sam's alive, so everything is gonna be okay. 13.22 coda.

Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence by Lise:

Sam's back. He's in one piece. That's the problem.

CW: self-harm

love is like ghosts by redskyatmorning:

I’m poison, Dean had said instead of I’m sorry. Well, Sam wants to say, what does that make me? What the hell does that make me? (A look into Sam's mind in the aftermath of the Gadreel possession.)

The Other Brother by RadioFriday:

Sam and Adam are pulled from the cage at the same time. Sam is not right, and Adam, stuck as his caretaker, is not pleased.

Oxygen by inkandpaperqwerty:

“Cas! Cas, please! Please, answer me! Cas!” Castiel ignores Dean for several minutes, but then Dean gives him an opening that might help him complete his mission. So, he goes to investigate, and what he finds is a very bloody, nearly dead Sam. Dean tells him where the injuries came from, and Castiel quickly becomes confused. It doesn't make sense, but Dean tries to explain it to him, and slowly... Castiel begins to understand.

CW: suicide attempt

Post Hoc, Ergo Propter Hoc by AmberSock:

Sam waits, kneeling, for his execution. What if Dean hadn't missed?

CW: temporary character death

Safety In Distance by GalaxyThreads and SpiritClusters:

The Mark of Cain is a brand of violence. Sam was an idiot to think that he'd be exempt from it, just because he and Dean are siblings.

sometimes a kind of singing by adi_rotynd:

Sam gets cursed. They're dealing with it. Jack can see souls. That one they're not dealing with quite as well.

CW: past referenced rape/noncon

Soul Windows by GalaxyThreads and Spirit Clusters:

A few months after his birth, Jack learns how to see souls. Then he comes to a realization about the Winchester brothers, Sam in particular, and it's not a pleasant one. (gen)

Starry Night by keepcalmsmile:

Sam attempts suicide-by-monster. Dean tries to help. It sort of works...until it doesn't.

CW: suicide attempts, suicidal ideation

such fragile, broken things by The_Bookkeeper:

Sam wishes that Dean would just get it over with already.

The Tale of Sir Galahad by keepcalmsmile:

Sam once said he could never be clean like Sir Galahad. Dean assumed he was just talking about the demon blood. Turns out, Sam was talking about something else too. WARNING: Extended discussions of the aftermath of rape and childhood sexual abuse (but NO description of the actual events). Happy(ish) ending, but potentially very triggering.

CW: past rape/noncon, mentioned CSA

They Hammered in His Teeth by jribbing:

Sam has a secret.

CW: suicidal ideation

today's troubles (are history tomorrow) by a_good_soldier:

"It's not really something I know how to share," Sam had said. In which Dean figures he ought to help Sam out a bit.

Touch and Go by themegalosaurus:

Tag to 9.19 (Alex Annie Alexis Ann) in which Dean realises why, exactly, Sam is so angry about what happened with Gadreel.

trust fall by ad_castra:

“I’m nothing like you,” Sam hisses. Nevermind relating to the anguish of going it alone. Nevermind that he knows what it is to be strapped down and forcibly cleansed against his will. Sam wonders if these trials are purifying Crowley as well.

Words Like Glass by broken_cinders:

Dean never figured the cage wouldn't leave a mark. He was prepared for memories, flashbacks, and nightmares. He wasn't expecting the words Sam brought back with him or the way they made him seem just a breath beyond Dean's reach.

Wound and Unwound by fascra:

Sam stops eating spring of his freshman year.

CW: eating disorder

wincest (dean/sam)

Brittle by thecapn:

Sam Winchester has an eating disorder.

CW: eating disorder

Don't You Cry No More by sixtysevenlmpala (schittyfic):

The first time Sam gets badly hurt on a hunt, he doesn’t cry. Dean does.

Fall On Your Knees by dollylux:

Sam doesn't quite make it home on the last day of school before winter break.

The Fall Will Probably Kill You by killabeez:

Set between 7.04 and the aftermath of 7.07. Dean is not as okay as he'd like you to think. Neither is Sam.

CW: self-harm

Feels so good to feel again by Trojie:

The pain keeps Lucifer at bay, at least to start with.

Follow In Your Form by withthekeyisking:

Sam is hallucinating Lucifer in the wake of Cas bringing his Hell Wall crashing down. To make matters worse, it seems like this has his dormant powers flaring back to life.

Last Temptation by merle_p:

Sam is running a fever again, the kind of fever no Ibuprofen or cold compress will bring down, the kind of fever that is eating him up alive, eviscerating him from the inside. He is too hot and too cold and too pale, delirious and shaking, resonating with whatever divine energy the trials are subjecting him to, and Dean is not sure how much longer he can stand to see him be in this state. Because Sam is quite possibly dying, and there is nothing Dean can do to stop it. Because Sam is dying, and he just. Won’t. Shut. Up.

CW: mentioned past rape/noncon

leeches by Anonymous:

Sam discovers a spell to make everybody forget him. He’s convinced it’s for the best. Pre-Stanford.

CW: attempted kidnapping/torture

Make Thick My Blood by themegalosaurus:

“You’re going to kill me, Dean,” Sam says, eventually. And all Dean can say is, “I think I am.” A season 10 AU, set after 10x14 ('The Executioner's Song'). Cas finds a solution that might cure the Mark of Cain; but if they're going to go through with it, Sam has a terrible price to pay.

CW: mentioned past rape/noncon

Prophecy of an Abomination by ashitanoyuki:

Sam is kidnapped by fanatically religious hunters and crucified. Coming back from this won't be easy. Canon-divergent from midway through season 2.

Recall by De_Nugis:

Sam's having a hard time telling what's real and what isn't, especially when it comes to some voicemails from Dean.

The Room Upstairs by brokenlittleboy:

Sam comes back from hell, but he’s inside-out and all wrong, and Dean can’t fix him.

CW: mentioned past rape/noncon

Ruin You (and its companion fic Worth) by Mumble_Bee:

Cole fucks Sam with Demon!Dean watching from a devil's trap, snarling that anyone would dare touch what was his. “I told you I don’t care what you do to his face or his blood or his fucking nose,” Dean growled, “but you put your dick anywhere near him and I will end you.” “Better hurry up then, Dean, because I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

CW: explicit rape/noncon

Snowed In by HelloStarlingFics:

When working a case, Sam and Dean get stuck out in a shack in the woods when the snow comes in hard and fast. Trouble is, Sam’s hated the cold ever since the Cage. Time for Dean to step up and look after him.

Wake by minchout:

Gadreel has had Sam for four years, and Dean, lost in guilt and obsessed with finding a way to get his brother back, has isolated himself in a cabin in the Missouri Ozarks with nothing but the woods, a stray dog, some chickens, and all the books the Men of Letters had to offer to keep him company. Then Sam shows up one day without his passenger, and Dean learns quickly that it doesn't matter that Sam is with him again - there is still a lot of work to be done before they can find their way back to each other.

Wanting to Forget by morganaDW (morgana07):

1-shot. S1 fic. After getting Sam freed from the Benders Dean thinks all he has to cope with is some bruises and cuts. He learns quickly just how wrong he is when Sam wakes up with a nightmare, reliving his brief but bad captivity in every detail. Sam just wants to forget & Dean has to try to get him to let him help. Will one night of cruelty and pain ruin what’s been formed between them?

CW: referenced past rape/noncon

when I wake up I'm afraid, somebody else might take my place by quake_quiver:

Sam doesn’t remember the last time he cried for Dean like he did that night. And now it’s been…two weeks. Maybe more. Sam is tired, and in pain, and starting to doubt that Dean’s going to show up. He’s weak and shaking from a combination of constant pain and hunger. Sam longs for Dean. Dean would make it better. Dean would fix it.

CW: rape/noncon, body horror

Wire Inside Me by merle_p:

There are a lot of things Sam hates about his current condition, to the point where he sometimes feels for the gun under his pillow at night, blindly toys with the safety, imagines pressing the muzzle into the underside of his chin and pulling the trigger just to make it stop. But there’s nothing he hates as much as the shadows he sees in Dean’s eyes whenever his brother is looking at him these days. It’s not an expression he remembers ever seeing before, but Sam thinks it’s probably something like revulsion. Horror. Disgust. What else could it be.

CW: referenced past rape/noncon, body horror, forced pregnancy

Worth (and its companion fic Ruin You) by Mumble_Bee:

Episode 10x01 "Black" where Dean is a human, and very, very, pissed off to hear someone has hands on his brother. “It’s nothing personal,” Cole whispered into Sam's ear, too quietly for Dean to hear, “but I need to kill your brother, and I need him off his game when he gets here. I don’t wanna hurt you, kid, but I’m going to, anyway. I’m going to hurt you a lot."

CW: explicit rape/noncon

you'll never see us again by according2thelore:

Then finally, his eyes trail over to Dean. His pupils are pin-point thin, and his hair is straggling in his face so Dean can’t see most of what expression lies there. Sam usually wakes up from nightmares in one of three attitudes: confusion, fear, or calm. A scary, sense-prickling calm that Dean hates more than anything else. Resignation, almost. Or: Sam suffers from nightmares and touch starvation post-Cage. They do their best to deal.

other Sam/Lucifer noncon

Cage Fight (No Way To Do This Right) by Dyed_Red:

Sam’s visit to the cage is already going awry, but Dean’s one-man rescue ends up skidding it sideways into territory neither him or Sam are ready for. (Gratuitous episode scene re-write. If Cas hadn’t come till after, if he hadn’t been there yet when Dean ran down to the 'parole' cage after hearing Sam scream - how bad could it have got for the brothers before he made it?)

CW: graphic rape/noncon

Into Being by withthekeyisking:

When Sam wakes up in the cave on Apocalypse World after having been killed by vamps, it's not just to find Lucifer there with him. It's to find him in him.

CW: graphic rape/noncon, necrophilia, forced pregnancy

Reggie/Tim/Sam noncon

a pointless resistance for you by withthekeyisking:

Sam doesn't know how long he's been with Tim and Reggie by the time Dean shows up and tries to take him out of there. Long enough that's he's already lost one baby and is pregnant with the next. Long enough that this life is starting to feel like all he knows.

CW: graphic rape/noncon, forced pregnancy & miscarriage, victim blaming

screaming birds sound an awful lot like singing by withthekeyisking:

Sam has done his best to move past what Tim and Reggie did to him, pretending it never happened at all. But running into them again makes that very difficult—especially when Dean gets involved.

CW: referenced past rape/noncon

Waste 'Em All by withthekeyisking:

When Tim and Reggie try to force the demon blood down Sam's throat, he spits it back out. He has no interest in being turned into their own personal attack dog. They don't...take it well.

CW: explicit rape/noncon

#sam winchester #sam whump #supernatural #supernatural fic rec #wincest

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zanarkandskylines · 3 months

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Hollow Heart { chapter 2 - the ghost of you }

『♡』 pro-hero fem!reader x pro-hero bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ pro-heroes au | friends to lovers ꒱ ♡ katsuki bakugo masterlist ♡

summary: A month's time has passed since your abduction and the boys have not given up on finding you by any means necessary. Between late night phone calls, midnight confessions, and endless breakdowns, they're struggling to go on with life as usual like everyone assumes they should. Bakugo in particular is struggling with your absence, cursing how he wasn't strong enough to save you and locking himself away. Midoriya has opted for the opposite, spending multiple sleepless nights searching for you on his own. tags & warnings: mentions of blood/violence, eventual & mild smut, kidnapping/abduction, experimentation, physical & psychological torture, PTSD, implied/referenced self harm, cursing, talks of trauma | angst with happy ending, emotional hurt/comfort, regret, mutual pining, friends to lovers, insomnia, eventual romance a/n: Thank you to everyone for the support with this story!! I've gotten some of the nicest compliments and am so excited to continue. Enjoy the angst (and light at the end of the tunnel)! ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 9,891 as of ch.2 ꒱ Main Post Chapter 1 | Hurricane [5,092k] Chapter 2 | The Ghost of You [4,799k] Chapter 2.5 | Choke Chapter 3 | The Grey Chapter 4 | The Good Left Undone Chapter 5 | Tourniquet Chapter 6 | There is Fear in Letting Go 『♡』 this fic has a playlist! ✩

CHAPTER TWO: THE GHOST OF YOU

The ride back into the city felt like an eternity, the silence between Bakugo and Midoriya excruciatingly heavily in the air. They hadn’t said a word to one another since their mutual breakdown in Sector 42’s field. The only thing on Bakugo’s mind was to go home, lock the door, and shut the whole fucking world out. Midoriya, however, was writing up the report on his phone while it was still fresh in his mind. Unfortunately for them, they were responsible for relaying all of the information from that night back to the agency, the details of your abduction included, no matter how emotionally wounded they were.

Midoriya decided to be the first to initiate conversation. He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in the passenger seat. “I started the -,”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Izuku.” Bakugo’s voice was hoarse, strained by the combination of screaming and crying.

Midoriya pursed his lips into a straight line. “Right…sorry.”

“Just sign my name on the report. I don’t want to look at it.”

“Sure, Kacchan. No problem.”

The silence resumed the entire way back to the agency. They parted ways without saying goodbye.

─── Bakugo’s footsteps were heavy up the stairs of his apartment complex, struggling to climb to the third floor and make it to his door. He stumbled inside while dropping the briefcase containing his hero suit to the floor and kicking off his shoes. Even though he lived alone, there was an entirely new sense of loneliness accompanying his apartment tonight.

Turning on the water in the shower, he set the temperature as scalding hot as it could go. He tossed his phone on the counter, disregarding any messages demanding his attention. Once he stripped down to nothing, all of the cuts, bruises and blisters littering his body from the fight were visible and cast back to him in the mirror.

He wanted to punch his own reflection for being weak.

Bakugo forced himself to stand under the scorching stream of water, the evidence of the night washing down the drain - blood, dirt, sweat and whatever else he tumbled through. He was a stickler for being clean, but that night, he didn't have the ability to give a shit. Once the water ran clear, he didn't bother to move. He stood under the water until it turned ice cold, his mind completely void of thought.

Eventually, he turned the water off with the minimal energy he possessed. He dried himself haphazardly with a towel, water daintily dripping from his hair as he tossed on a pair of boxers and launched himself into bed. Bakugo felt detached as he stared into the void of his bedroom, growing listless as he studied his ceiling mindlessly.

Reaching for his phone on the nightstand, he scrolled through his favorite contacts list and clicked on your name.

Maybe she'd answer?

Big mistake.

Maybe he'd been dreaming - stuck in sleep paralysis or some crazy shit like that.

The line rang... ...and rang... ...and rang... ...then proceeded to voicemail.

What the fuck was he expecting?

It didn't spare him the reflex of his heart cannonballing into his stomach, that familiar nausea returning from the moment she disappeared. The memory of you vanishing into the portal sparked in his mind as his stomach stirred, threatening to be sick.

Oh no, that wasn't a threat - that was a promise.

Bakugo shot up from the bed as the acidity rose in his throat, sprinted to the bathroom and slid in front of the toilet, losing every bit of the junk food buffet from their movie marathon from the previous day.

His knees ached from the rough, bare contact of the cold bathroom tile. The taste of bile coated his mouth as his stomach continued to purge until there was nothing left. Eyes watering, nose running and panting frenziedly, he sank to the floor - an empty shell of himself.

He yearned to go back in time. He'd give everything to rewind and make you stay home - safe and sound. Unfortunately for him, time-travel doesn't exist, nor was there an incantation, spell or charm to wave in the air to summon you back to his side.

You're a fucking coward.

The thought pounded in his head, regret swirling in his gut over every moment he lost not telling you the truth.

THREE DAYS LATER

Three days passed with no sign of you anywhere - not work, not home, and nowhere near Sector 42. The agency officially marked you as missing in action, silently, to avoid alerting the public of their failure to keep one of their heroes safeguarded. No one would even know you were gone via the news, they'd have to search the database of the agency to determine your status.

Y/H/N RANK 37 STATUS: MISSING IN ACTION LAST SEEN: SECTOR 42

Bakugo and Midoriya checked the database for an update hourly, just in case - somehow, someway - you'd re-appear magically before they’d get word of your return.

To their dismay, the status never changed.

The hardest thing was informing your mother of your disappearance, to which Midoriya offered to do on behalf of the agency in place of some unknown board member. Him and Bakugo agreed to visit her together back home in Musutafu to tell her in person. What was the alternative, say "You're daughter is missing" over a phone call? They'd never forgive themselves. They called her together, asking when they could stop in for a visit. Your mother wasn’t naive - she knew immediately something was wrong.

They had to return to Tokyo shortly after their arrival, leaving your mother with nothing more than a broken heart after their explanation of the situation. She tried her damndest to keep herself together but couldn’t keep her composure in front of the boys. You were her only daughter - her only child. There was no replacing you, no siblings to fill in the void of your absence.

“Please, bring her home. That’s all I want,” she pleaded, over and over again.

Midoriya cried himself to sleep on the way home as Bakugo drove them back to the city in complete silence. Your abduction was the equivalent of the weight of the world on their shoulders, a grueling mix of guilt and anger stirring between them. Neither of them talked about that night in the days that had past, not knowing how to approach the subject. Both of them tried to stay in an automated routine, using their work schedules to keep their minds busy.

No surprise, feigning ignorance didn't work.

───

Midoriya tried to contact Bakugo multiple times over the next couple of days, only receiving sporadic one word responses outside of their drive from Tokyo and back. He expected nothing less, but that didn't mean he wasn't worried sick over his best friend's well-being. He didn't know how to help - did he need space, or did he need someone to comfort him?

He continued to remind Bakugo that his phone is always on and he's only a call away, night or day. No matter what, he'd drop everything to talk with him or come keep him company. He pulled out his phone to send another reminder. He’s lost count how many times he’d sent the same sentiment, just rewording the text each time.

(9:15PM) hey kacchan, hope you're doing okay. you don't have to respond, just reminding you if you need anything, call me. i'll be up tonight. (9:16PM) please remember you need to sleep, too. don't push yourself. A few minutes later, his phone buzzed. He wasn't expecting a response so soon, let alone at all.

(9:18PM) thanks izuku, you too

Of course, Midoriya would not be taking his own advice. He planned to be up until he passed the fuck out from exhaustion, going until his body physically forced himself to recharge. He was busy taking matters into his own hands, and by that, he was spending endless hours gathering information from the night of the mission. He'd been back to Sector 42 countless times in the last couple days, retracing every single step step, looking for any clues to lead him in the direction of finding the lab - of finding you.

Midoriya monotonously stalked the empty field, frantically scribbling down everything he found:

-The dart canister has no fingerprints attached to it, but left enough of the serum inside to run tests (sample in the science lab - awaiting results) -The dirt in the area had no trace of anyone but us -The portal didn't leave any type of matter behind, no evidence to research -The agency database had no information on a quirk suppressant drug, the only incident linked back to Overhaul years prior (quirk suppressant lasted an hour and was not permanent)

Exhaustion began masking his normal perky expression as the bags under his eyes grew darker each passing day. On top of not sleeping, he was forcing himself to work his usual patrol schedule. Was that irresponsible of him? Other people counted on him, too, and he couldn't handle the thought of a civilian being subjected to another kidnapping - or any crime.

As long as his eyes stayed open and his body would listen, he'd do the job. That's what it means to be a hero.

But who saves the hero when they need one themselves?

The question haunted him in the middle of the night, but he mentally tucked away the unease to deal with another day.

No. There was no use perpetuating that mindset, it wouldn't help the current situation.

He rejected the sentiment, turning his weary eyes up to the night sky as one thought crossed his mind.

She loves the stars. I wish she could see them tonight. ───

Bakugo begrudgingly got his ass to work each day, no matter how fatigued he was. By the sixth day, he was devoid of all energy and full of nothing but resentment for those around him. The color in his life had faded into grayscale, bland and soulless, in just under a week's time.

How could everyone continue on as normal?

Why did time stop only for him, and no one else?

No e-mails had gone out, no news updates - nothing - regarding your disappearance. It's as if you never existed. He began receiving endless calls and messages from friends as word spread, asking what happened that night and offering support. He didn't want to hear it - not from anyone, even if their intentions were pure. His phone was full of notifications that he refused to sort through.

Bakugo wanted to disappear, abandon his feelings and burn the world to the fucking ground.

TWO WEEKS LATER

The agency had officially marked your case as unresolved, shifting the priority from "High" to "Low" status due to the heavy crime rate persisting in the city. It wasn't that they didn't care, it's that they didn't have the staffing to hunt for a missing hero. They were too busy attempting to fill in your patrols for the month to even think about hosting a search party.

It's just how the business worked. Anyone below rank 10 wasn't deemed urgent by the board. They were replaceable.

Bakugo and Midoriya vocalized their concerns, multiple times, for the past two weeks. No amount of explanations, yelling, cursing or threats to quit seemed to make the board budge on their decision. It floored them that they were willing to lose two of their top 10 heroes over the refusal of a search party. They didn't push the issue any further after that, unable to muster up the energy to fight more than they already were. They couldn’t rely on the agency to do anything at this time.

─── The clock taunted Bakugo as he tossed and turned in his bed, unable to find a sliver solace in his mind to sleep. No TV, no music, no lights - absolute darkness, with the exception being the florescence of the alarm clock blinking 1:17AM. He reluctantly grabbed for his phone, overwhelmed by the thought of just how many messages and missed awaited him. He'd been ignoring any avenue of communication for the past two weeks, no matter who it was.

Tapping the lock screen, he navigated to his messaging app, showing 32 unread messages. He scrolled through the list:

Deku - 15 unread messages Red - 6 unread messages Pinky - 3 unread messages Cheeks - 2 unread messages Hag - 4 unread messages Pop - 1 unread message Ears - 1 unread message

Lite-Brite - no new messages

His heart stutters in his chest when he scrolls too far and ended up on your name. He scanned the letters in your nickname multiple times before clicking into the conversation.

What was the last thing you texted him?

"see ya in the morning for our run! :)"

The physical reaction Bakugo experienced while re-reading the message was foreign to him. His stomach lurched, head ached, and eyes twitched anxiously.

What the fuck was happening to him?

Even though there was no way in hell you'd respond, he needed an outlet right now. His fingers moved faster than his brain could keep up with as he began texting you, spilling out his thoughts like word vomit.

[1:21AM] i bet you’ll never get these, even if your phone is on [1:21AM] there’s so much i want to tell you [1:22AM] like how some mom dropped off muffins for me at the agency cause i walked her kid across the street after a villain attack [1:23AM] or last week when deku was passed out on his desk and drooled all over his paperwork and had to redo it [1:23AM] and this dog i saw in the park on the way to patrol one morning wearing a fucking sweater [1:24AM] idiots don't realize it's summer? poor mutt had to be dying [1:24AM] i've called you out of habit so many times and forget your... [1:24AM] not here

He hated how he sounded like a lovesick dog, cowering with his tail between his legs.

[1:26AM] i miss you lite-brite

Bakugo stared at the screen for minutes, unsure of what to do with himself. He could feel his heartbeat accelerating at an uncomfortable pace as he sat in the silence of his bedroom. Swiping back to his contacts list, he selects the call icon next to Midoriya’s name. The line rang twice before he answered.

“Hey Kacchan. What’s up?” Midoriya’s voice was littered with exhaustion.

“Do you mind comin’ over?” Bakugo asked, somewhat ashamed to be asking Midoriya for help of any kind.

“No, not at all. Everything okay?”

“…no. Not really.”

He couldn’t mask the dread in his tone any longer. The last two weeks were catching up to him like a dam ready to burst.

Midoriya paused, a soft hum vibrating through the phone. “…alright, I’ll be right over.”

While waiting for Midoriya to show, Bakugo made the dreadful mistake of lingering through the photos on his phone. He wasn’t one to take pictures, but he’d save all the ones sent to him from friends. You were the exception. He loved taking pictures of and with you any chance he got. He started flipping through them like pages in a scrapbook, memories flooding back and threatening to drown him in despair. The longer he stared at your face in the photos, the more he felt his lip start to quiver and eyes well up with salty tears.

Bakugo’s limbs began to quake uncontrollably, dropping his phone onto his bed as he sprang up, clutching his chest. He could feel every pulse reverberating through his veins, his stomach on fire with anxiety as his breathing became shallow, oxygen no longer reaching his lungs.

What the hell is this? Was this…a panic attack?

“Kacchan?” Midoriya called out from the living room, not knowing where Bakugo was as he let himself into the apartment.

“You didn’t answer so I used my key..." his voice trailed off as he made his way down the hallway. He heard a faint sound...as if someone was gasping for air? He picked up the pace and slid into Bakugo's bedroom.

"Kacchan?!" Midoriya rushed to the bed, catapulting himself next to Bakugo as he grabbed hold of his shoulders.

"Hey, hey, breathe! It's alright, I'm here. I've got you," he soothes, cupping Bakugo's face in his hands. "You're okay. Just look at me, I'm right here."

Bakugo can taste the saltiness of his tears streaming into his mouth as he's fighting to get his breath under control. The familiar bitterness of nausea is creeping up his throat as he smacks Midoriya's hands away from his cheeks, rocketing off the bed and bolting to the bathroom.

Deja vu, huh?

Midoriya wasn’t far behind, dropping beside him on the bathroom floor. All of Bakugo’s stress manifested into his sickness, heaving every ounce of turmoil from his guts.

“I’ll be right back, Kacchan. I’ll go get you some water,” Midoriya whispers, placing a gentle hand on Bakugo’s back as he made his way to the kitchen.

Confident that he’s now running on empty, Bakugo rocked back on his knees and flushed the evidence down the drain. He rested his head wearily against the cool ceramic bowl, finally able to catch his breath.

Midoriya returns with a glass of water and a wash cloth, handing Bakugo the glass as he makes his way to the sink. He runs the cloth under cold water, wringing out the excess before finding a spot next to Bakugo on the floor. In those few moments, he’s chugged the entire glass of water.

“Here, turn towards me,” Midoriya says, reaching for Bakugo’s face.

Bakugo slaps his hand away, a last ditch effort to save the inkling of pride he has left.

“Kacchan, let me help you.” Midoriya glares at him, silently pleading with Bakugo to let his guard down. They’re best friends, what good is that if he can’t help him in a time of need?

Bakugo drops his hand out of the way, too exhausted to put up a fight. Midoriya runs his fingers through his bangs, tenderly pushing them out of the way of his forehead as he places the cool wash cloth against his skin. He continues gently patting his face to calm him with the cooling sensation, attempting to get his body regulated back to normal.

“If you wanna talk about it, I’m all ears. If not, that’s okay.” Midoriya takes the wash cloth away from Bakugo’s face, tossing it onto the counter behind him.

"I'm sorry I didn't notice how upset you've been. I just thought you needed space."

The overwhelming uncertainty swirling around inside of Bakugo comes to a head, bursting through the cracks as he begins to sob violently. Head in his hands, no words are spoken as his heart bleeds from the grief of his current reality.

Midoriya immediately pulls him into an embrace, awkwardly holding him on the freezing bathroom tile.

One things for sure - he’s thankful that his phone caught his attention before he drifted off to sleep for the first time in days. ─── The next morning, Bakugo called out sick for the first time in his pro-hero career. He felt worse than death, rotting away in bed as the sunlight came and went over the course of the day. By nightfall, he was roaming aimlessly around his apartment when an idea struck him.

Before he could alter his course, Bakugo was on the way to your apartment with the spare key you’d given him years ago. Walking up to the door, he froze, key in the lock as he tried to shove aside the panic threatening to wrack his nerves for a third time. He pushed the door open successfully and stood in the entryway, unsure what to do with himself next.

Engaging into an autopilot-type trance, he began to walk around your apartment and clean up for you like he always had in the past. The leftover dishes in the sink from movie night that never got cleaned, organizing the blankets on the couch, vacuuming the living room from the crumbs from your movie night snacks, folding the pile of laundry in the corner of your room - every and any task he could get his hands on.

Bakugo hadn’t realized how much time had passed by the time he folded your last shirt in the basket, pulling his phone from his pocket. The clock read 11:35PM. He’d been doing this for 6 hours, stalking around your apartment like it was his own.

But you know what? It gave him hope - a sliver of something he had all but lost in the time you’ve been missing.

It wasn’t long before he’d turned on the TV, stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers and climbed under the covers of your bed that it hit him - he’s losing his shit. Your disappearance was driving him into madness. Your absence continuously haunted him wherever he went - at home, work, and in his nightmares. Bakugo didn’t know what to do with himself, let alone how to handle this influx of surging emotions running through him 24/7.

He turned over to the wall to feel a soft lump under the covers. It was a plushie that he’d won for you years ago at an arcade in the city. The two of you had just moved to Tokyo a few days prior. Bakugo remembers fondly how ecstatic you were when he handed the plush to you, jumping for joy like a child. He wouldn’t admit that he spent over $20 on the crane game, determined to win it for you. Could he have bought you one online? Sure, but his pride wouldn’t allow him to take the easy route.

The idea that you slept with it every night made his heart swell.

It wasn’t long before the tears stung his eyes again as he cradled the stuffed animal against his chest, cocooned in your bed sheets. The sheets smelled like your body wash, a whisper of floral notes flooding his senses as he curled into a silk-covered ball.

The bright side?

Bakugo eventually slid into a deep slumber that he hasn’t had in weeks.

ONE MONTH LATER

Bakugo stared at his phone with fervor, focusing on your name in his contact list for the millionth time. He knew there was no use messaging you again - for fucks sake, you were missing. He’d been texting and calling you ever since that horrible night with no semblance of a response, not even a ‘read’ receipt.

It’s been a month. He was starting to lose his sanity, staying up all hours of the night and forcing himself to continue working as a distraction - just like Midoriya. He was running from his invasive thoughts and into a pit of oblivion. He couldn't accept you being…gone. For good. There was no way. He refused to believe some busted D-list villain with one lucky shot could take you out.

The text conversation taunted him the longer he fixated on his phone screen, scrolling back and forth roughly through past messages.

Fuck it.

Bakugo clicked into the response bubble and furiously began typing, continuously sending message after message with no hesitation. His emotional vulnerability got the better of him in the moment as he poured his broken heart out into an electronic void. [2:35AM] i can’t take this anymore [2:35AM] i realize i'm basically talking to a damn ghost at this point, i don't care [2:35AM] it's fucking painful without you here [2:36AM] i'm losing my goddamn mind [2:36AM] i can't sleep or do anything without thinking of you [2:37AM] and i should have told you a long ass time ago about how important you are to me [2:38AM] i'm sorry [2:38AM] i'm so fucking sorry [2:39AM] i miss you [2:39AM] i miss your stupid laugh and your smile [2:40AM] fuck, i just miss being around you [2:41AM] i don't know who to talk to [2:41AM] izuku doesn't understand how shitty i feel [2:41AM] kirishima doesn't either [2:41AM] to be honest, i don't fucking understand it [2:42AM] i feel so lost, i’m grieving someone who’s still alive [2:42AM] and i'm an ass for making your disappearance about my feelings

He’s about to click ‘send’ on his next message when he stalls, analyzing the letters one by one as his throat constricts at the feelings they force upon him.

‘I love you, please come home.’

He deletes the words. He can feel the panic weaving in his stomach and tightening into a knot.

[2:45AM] i don’t want to say this in a fucking text of all things [2:45AM] especially under these circumstances [2:46AM] but i’m scared i’ll never get to say it to you [2:46AM] i’m a fucking idiot for not telling you sooner

He exhaled a shaky breath as his fingers trembled above the glass screen, his heartbeat deafening the world around him.

[2:47AM] god dammit [2:48AM] i love you [2:48AM] like a stupid fucking amount [2:49AM] i convinced myself for years that i didn’t and that you wouldn’t feel the same [2:50AM] when you come home [2:50AM] i’ll tell you every damn day to make up for all the times i didn’t [2:51AM] that’s a promise [2:52AM] i love you lite-brite

Bakugo's heart and mind were coming apart at the seams, sinking into the never ending abyss of sorrow growing inside him. He threw his phone across the room, burying his face in his pillow as he bawled into the soft cotton. He was unable to stop the hot tears gushing from his bloodshot eyes, soaking through the fabric as his muffled sobs bounced off the walls in his bedroom.

And then it happened.

His phone rang from the other side of the room, vibrating against the wooden floor. A wave of rage engulfed his depression as he flung himself off the bed, aggravated by the disturbance. Who the fuck would be calling at almost 3AM? Midoriya or Kirishima, maybe?

And then he saw it.

Your name appeared on the caller ID screen with a picture of you two together.

Is this a sick joke? Was he hallucinating?

Had his psyche finally shattered?

He juggled the phone in his sweaty hands chaotically as he clicked on the "Accept Call" button.

"H-hello?! Y/N!?" Bakugo cried, distressed as he awaited a response. His whole body was quivering and his breathing was labored.

The line was quiet before the call ended.

No.

No no no.

NO!

His fingers weren't cooperating with him as he hopelessly scrambled to call you again until his phone dinged twice.

Text Message: Lite-Brite

'No. Fucking. Way,' he cursed internally, unsure if he's even in the same reality.

There were only two messages from you - a pinned location and an orange heart emoji.

Bakugo blinked again and again at the screen, convinced his eyes were playing tricks on him. He must've hit a state of psychosis, no other explanation. Why would you have access to your phone...wherever you are? That's impossible.

Or is it?

He worked up the nerve to click on the pinned location text and held his breath as the maps application loaded. The location dinged and showed on the screen where it was sent from.

"There's..." Bakugo grumbled out loud. "...no way in hell this it right."

Sector fourty-fucking-two.

He placed a hand on the back of his neck when something clicked in his brain, a bolt of unanticipated adrenaline wracking his body.

He hurriedly swiped back to his contacts and clicked on Midoriya's name.

Come on, come on. Pick up, nerd. I know you're up.

"...Kacchan?" Midoriya answered groggily.

"Izuku, I need you to come over. Now!” Bakugo demanded. He needed to get this adrenaline rush out of his body and use it to find a solution.

There's a pause before Midoriya’s answer.

"Mm, alright. Is everything -"

"Now!" Bakugo yelled as he clicked the "End Call" button, chucking his phone onto his bed.

He figured it out. He knew where you were.

You’re under Sector 42. That’s gotta be where the lab is hidden. Midoriya never found an entrance because there isn’t one. The only way into this stupid place was through one of those portals.

For now.

His mind was formulating a plan as Midoriya’s knock startled him out of his train of thought. He sprinted to the front door, violently swinging it open and pulling him inside.

“Kacchan! What is it?!” Midoriya was panting frantically, sweat glistening on his forehead and cheeks. “I ran as fast as I could.”

“I figured it out…I know where she is.”

Midoriya scrunched his brows together as Bakugo’s words hung in the air.

“What?!” “She’s not above ground. She’s underground at Sector 42.”

Each chapter I have planned, so far, is named after a song title that could fit as a theme for the specific chapter. This one (obviously) had to be MCR - The Ghost of You is my fave and fits the narrative I was going for, even though the boys know Reader isn't dead, that doesn't mean their grief stops. tags: @bakugouswaif ✩ if you’d like to be tagged when updates are posted, message/comment to be added! ✩

#bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugo angst #bakugo x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo #my hero academia #bakugo katsuki #dynamight #☆.rei writes #✩.hollowheart

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oh-goddess-of-chaos · 1 year

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⠀ 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 – 𝐣. 𝐝. 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ✧‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (navi. & masterlist. & tag. )

「 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 」 yandere!jason dean 𝒙 female!reader

「 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 」 in which you try to break up with jason dean, but you find that doing so is a lot harder than you anticipated.

「 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 」 man-handling, murder / death, manipulation, toxic / abusive relationship, unconsensual kissing, threatening, swearing, generally psychotic behavior, implied / referenced stalking, general yandere themes.

「 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 」 1.2k

「 𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 .⁺ ˖ ⌒ this one's a bit on the shorter side, but it was fun to write!

"You killed her."

Those were the only words you could think to utter staring at your deranged ex-partner. "You fucking killed her, didn't you?"

In spite of your current rage and distress, all J. D. could seem to do was offer you a devilish grin and a smirk. "Well, I wouldn't say killed her, just... I put her out of her misery, is all. Charity work, really."

"You did it. You murdered my best friend. Do you think this is a joke?"

"Well, it is quite funny, if I do say so myself."

You weren't quite sure what you were feeling at the moment. Anger was one thing, but heartbroken, too, for you had lost the person that was closest to you.

And yet, your inner turmoil aside, you felt a terrible, terrible smile slither its way across your face - a not because you were happy by any stretch - the situation you found yourself in was by no means one that'd cause you any feelings of joy - but simply because you had no idea what else to do.

"She was right. I should have stayed away from you. You're not a rebel. You're fucking psychotic."

"Well, you say tomato, I say 'to-mah-to'."

You grated your teeth together. "Just get out, J. D." You were much too tired to play any of J. D.'s mind games. You just wanted him gone. And for a moment - for one beautiful moment - he seemed to consider doing what you asked. But, alas, he was never one for folding so easily.

"No."

You drew in a sharp breath. "Excuse me?"

J. D. took a step closer to you. You held your ground, hoping to give off the impression that you weren't intimidated by what he might do; you knew he had a loaded gun on him, and his unpredictable nature didn't ease your racing heart.

"I'm not leaving, and you can't make me."

"J. D., this is my house."

"Well, technically it's your parent's home, and I doubt you want to get them involved, unless you'd like two more of your loved ones with their brains blown out."

You stiffened, your throat tightening up. Upon your lack of a response, J. D.'s mouth curled into a wicked smile. "That's what I thought. Now, how about we both go out to 7-11 and grab a couple of slushies?"

J. D. outstretched his arm in order to grasp your hand, but just as your fingers brushed, you jerked backwards. J. D.'s smile faded.

"Y/n - "

"I'll call the cops - I'll fucking call the cops on you, J. D.!"

J. D. raised an eyebrow and began nodding. "The cops?" He inquired. "Tell me, when they arrest me, do you think they're going to ignore the fact that you somehow knew for a fact that I killed Heather, Kurt, and Ram? What proof do you have that doesn't incriminate yourself? What will you say when they ask you how you know it's me? You wrote the letters."

"Yeah, well I didn't murder people!"

A strangely exuberant laughter escaped J. D.'s lips. "You didn't, did you? Then you didn't give Heather that mug of liquid drainer? And you also didn't shoot Kurt?"

You paused briefly, thinking of a quick defence. "Well I didn't know that was the wrong cup! And Kurt - I was just so shocked - "

J. D. took a step forward. You took a step back. J. D. grinned. He continued his approach until you inevitably collided with the wall, letting out a small gasp. "Admit it, Y/n!" He trapped you with his arms. "You say I'm evil, but look in the mirror! We're the same! We both do fucked up shit, and we like it! I saw that look on your face when Heather died. You were glad."

"We are not the same. I did not want them dead. Whatever you thought you saw in me when Heather died, it wasn't there. You're delusional, J. D. Now, I'm calling the cops, so don't even try to - "

"You can't call them. You know that. The moment you do your parents would be dead - and, besides, you know you couldn't pay to have a lawyer send me to jail. I know your parents wouldn't be able to afford it."

He was right. And you hated him for it. You didn't even ask how he knew your family wouldn't have sufficient funds - at this point, you'd be surprised if he didn't know something about you or your personal life.

"Well, I'm not coming with you, no matter what you'd do. I'd rather - "

J. D. didn't allow you to finish, forcefully swallowing your words with the press of his lips. The kiss was anything then what it should have been - it was greedy, feverish, demanding. You didn't have so much as a moment to breath as J. D. devoured you, leaving you terribly, terribly breathless. His icy fingers tug into your skin, surely leaving bruises, and you shuddered at the feeling of his wandering hands along your exposed skin.

J. D.'s kisses now were not what they once were. A million years ago, they sweet and tender, a warm interlocking of souls on a cold winter's day. They were beautiful and wonderful and tasted of nothing but kindness and thoughtfulness. But this one was nothing like the ones you'd experienced in the past. It was hungry, rough as J. D. pressed you plush against him, searing as opposed to warm, poisonous as opposed to tender.

It was after what could only be described as an eternity that J. D. pulled away, staring at your dizzy self with a satisfied expression upon his face.

Because, at last, here you were, like a bird with clipped wings, caught in J. D.'s trap, the one you'd unknowingly watched him craft bar by bar.

You froze as you felt two arms slither around your waist, firmly pulling you to J. D. He liked you like this - he could practically smell the fear radiating off of you, and it was intoxicating. Neither slushies nor cigars could compare to the high he felt from your presence.

"You're not leaving. You can't. And, besides, I'd kill you if you did." He let out a satisfied sigh. "I worship you - can't you see that?" You shivered as J. D.'s warm breath tickled your ear. "We were meant to be, darling. There was a reason we met... you were made for me."

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding as J. D. slowly let you go, grasping your chin between his forefinger and thumb. You naturally diverted your gaze.

J. D. grabbed your arm and squeezed it tightly, causing you to let out a small yelp. "Look at me."

Hesitantly, you obliged, your stomach knotting when you caught the dark glimmer in J. D.'s eyes. It was then that you knew - knew that you'd never once be free again, knew you'd be forever bound to J. D.

"We're going to fix this fucked up world together, Y/n."

#jd #jason dean #heathers masterlist #masterlist #jd x reader #jd x you #jason dean x reader #jd fanfic #jason dean x y/n #jason dean x you #yandere jd #yandere jason dean #heathers 1989 #heathers #heathers x reader #heathers the musical #veronica sawyer #xreader #jason dean fanfic

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snootlestheangel · 6 months

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More of the YouTuber AU random bits

Just thinking of this thing as I'm working on the drabbles

There's compilation videos of all the times Gaz kinda blushes/smiles softly when Alex calls him a pet name. There's compilations literally titled "Alex for SIMP President" and it's just all the times he's being Alex and in love with Gaz. The Among Us video fuels these like gasoline lol

There's "Soap Being Scottish" compilations.

There's "Times They Forgot Alex is an Amputee" compilations

There's compilations of Gaz's side eyes to his camera every time one of them says something really wild/insults him directly

Once he and Alex move in together there's compilations of "Times Alex Interrupted Gaz's Stream Just For CuddlesTM" and it's all the times where Alex just walks into Gaz's office and sits on his lap

There's "Times Gaz Had Beef With A Weird Russian Dude" compilations, but they're just every time anyone, especially Gaz, brings up his misfortunes with helicopters, especially when Nik is the pilot.

There's Ghost compilations that always comment on his dark humor/edgy humor; there's compilations on all the times he's referenced 'death' in his life (like how in some games his tag is "LegallyDead")

From @eaveplzzz 's tags during a reblog of the OG post, there's so many theory videos on what happened to Alex's leg; why do they always say "Classic Soap" or "Soap NO" when he has a bomb/sets off an explosion; Who Is Ghost? theory videos are a big hit, especially the ones about if he's actually "legally dead" or not; the theories about what happened between Gaz and Nik

Gaz eventually being convinced to do vlogs.

His first one is "Moving In Together" and it's literally just a cute/funny video taken from highlights of his stream where he and Alex unpack a bunch of boxes while answering questions from his chat. (the compilation videos go hard after this stream/video goes live) *there's one question during this where someone asks Alex if he's missing his leg because he sold it to help Gaz's career and he just beams at the joke while Gaz screams into his hands*

This stream/video was so popular Alex suggests they make an entire channel dedicated to doing streams like that again/playing games just the two of them/a day in the life type super duper cute shit *there's one clip where they start slow-dancing cause they're listening to a playlist put together by the chat and a slow song comes up. There's so many music video-esque compilations where there's a love song/dedicated-to-this-one-person-for-the-rest-of-my-life songs play to a bunch of their cute moments with the slow dancing in the kitchen being the refrain*

He does eventually post a vlog style video but it's just random bits of things he recorded while at a big gathering over the Christmas holidays with everyone. There's a few ways viewers piece together who is who: Soap because he's the only Scot, and they're always yelling his name in some fashion, Dylan (Gaz's friend) is also easily picked out, Nik once again due to his accent, and eventually everyone catches on with Price *comments go crazy spamming the time signature Price first appears with "Daddy??"*

What surprises everyone the most is when Ghost finally makes an on-camera appearance. It's a brief video, where he's smiling at Soap and Gaz doing something silly. It's just Simon in that moment: no mask, no black around the eyes, his hair is recently cut and styled, and he's happy

*bout to make it sad for a second y'all*

There's a stream once where Gaz makes it clear everything he makes during it go to a Veteran's Help program. It's before the holidays, a very vulnerable time for all veterans, and it's just a quiet stream where he plays a relaxing game and answer questions from chat. He talks about Task Force 141 (briefly and in as little detail as possible), he talks about the helicopter incidents, how he met all the guys he plays with, he talks about he and Soap getting up to no good together, he talks about some of the struggles he had adjusting to civilian life since he didn't know anything else, how much of a help his friends and Alex had been.

It's later revealed the reason he did the stream is for Simon. Because even though it's been years since the incident with his family, it's still something that can hurt badly to this day. How he and Soap were shopping for gifts for Soap's several nieces and nephews. How there was a little toy plane that made the exact same sound Simon's nephew's once did. They even looked the same. How a little blonde boy begged his mum for it. The child looked so familiar it broke one of Simon's barriers.

PTSD isn't curable, it doesn't just disappear over time. There's ways to trigger really bad episodes, and this was just one of those times. It was hard for everyone to see Ghost have such a big setback, but for Gaz? The way they all found ways to help Ghost during it. The way he and the rest of the team, their friends and loved ones, helped reach out to pull Simon back onto his feet. And Gaz wanted other veterans to have that support, especially during the holidays.

He and the 141 (Price, Soap, and Ghost) eventually start doing charity streams just for veterans and the many existing resources for them. They're always wacky, sometimes they're gaming, sometimes they're all in-person doing a fake game show with some of their friends. There's one where they all travel to Mexico to host one with their Las Almas friends to benefit North American veterans' benefits charities.

I don't know, I'm just having so many thoughts about this AU I might just write an entire GazAlex fic based on their lives involving Gaz becoming a big creator.

There's so many thoughts about this AU HOLY SHIT

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thisapplepielife · 5 months

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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Paint It, Black

Prompt Day 9: No Upside Down AU | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: Referenced Drug Use | Tags: AU, Corroded Coffin, Established Relationship, Eddie & Gareth Are Best Friends, Motel Room, Road Manager Steve Harrington Has Had Enough, It's Like Herding Cats

This is set during my fic Tuesday's Gone With the Wind, but this can be read alone. All you need to know is Corroded Coffin is a struggling band on the road, and Steve Harrington, Eddie's boyfriend, has recently taken a job as their Road Manager.

1990 Fresno, California

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

What the actual fuck?

Steve can't even believe what he’s seeing. Can’t fathom it. It’s madness, absolute fucking insanity. What on earth has he signed up for? This isn’t normal. None of this is normal.

"What the fuck are you two dickheads doing?!" Steve finally shouts, unable to modulate his tone even a little bit. He’s a goddamn babysitter. No, being a babysitter would be better than this. Kids don’t know any better. These two assholes definitely do. Goddamn. Fuck.

Eddie barely turns to look at him, and that just makes Steve even madder.

"Eddie, look at me!" Steve yells, and Eddie turns to look.

"Hi. What are you doing?" Steve asks, though it’s very fucking obvious what they’re doing. They’re painting their motel room black.

Eddie doesn’t answer, but Gareth does. "Eddie has a thing about orange and green," Gareth says, like that’s a fucking excuse for this. Gareth keeps painting the wallpaper of the dingy motel room.

"Stop it!" Steve yells, and they both freeze for just a second, then their brushes are moving again.

He’s quitting. He’s going home. He can’t manage these people. They’re crazy. This is crazy.

"That’s…that’s not even how you paint a wall!" Steve screams at Gareth.

And don’t even get him started on the ceiling. That’s just bullshit. They’re gonna get arrested. Like, for sure. They need a lawyer on retainer, but they can’t afford a lawyer. And they definitely can’t afford to pay for these kinds of damages.

"Looks like it's getting painted to me," Gareth says, slapping more black paint on the wall.

"Do you know how much this is going to cost?" Steve snaps, putting his hands on his hips. He tries to guess, and can’t even come up with a number that seems plausible. They’ve ruined the wallpaper, the carpet, the bedding…the ceiling. The goddamn ceiling.

Eddie’s standing on the desk, which, also ruined.

"Hey, assholes! What are you on?!" Steve yells.

Because it must be drugs, there's no other excuse for this kind of behavior. Or they're psychopaths, and he doesn’t think that’s true. He loves Eddie. He’s kind, and sweet, and fucking unhinged, apparently.

"Little coke," Gareth says, "that's all."

"That's all? That's all?! Where are Jeff and Goodie?"

"They’re at a bar. They didn't want to go to Sherwin Williams with us," Eddie says.

Why would any store sell these two dickheads two gallons of black paint? It was never gonna be used for good. Never, ever.

Where's the satanic panic when you need it?

"You two dickheads are explaining this. I don't have the words to even try," Steve snaps, but he knows that’s not true. He’ll take care of it. That’s what they’re paying him for. He’s not sure this is the job for him. He loves Eddie, but this is stupid. Cocaine, no cocaine, they both have to know better. Have to know you can’t just paint a motel room because it has a fucking ugly color scheme.

He gives himself a few minutes to calm down, and then heads for the front desk and asks for the manager.

"I’m Steve Harrington, road manager for Corroded Coffin. We’re in room 420. Two band members have painted the room partially black," Steve says, unable to believe he’s actually saying these words. "I’m sorry. We’ll pay for the damages."

They go back and forth. When the manager demands to go see the damage, Steve gets there and takes the brushes away, and sends Eddie and Gareth outside to wait. They are definitely banned from this motel for life.

They want to have them arrested for vandalism, and Steve thinks that’s a fucking fair assessment of what happened here. He talks them out of it. Offers to write a big check. They finally agree, and tell him to get their shit out, and never come back.

Jeff’s camera is in its bag, so Steve takes it out and films the damage. They might need this, if they end up slapped with a lawsuit.

The band doesn’t have this kind of money, not at all, so Steve gets out his personal checkbook and pays for the damages. If he doesn’t do that, he’ll have to pay to bail Eddie, and Gareth, out of jail, and he’d rather Eddie not have something so stupid on his record.

He packs up everybody’s shit, and when he gets outside with it, they are both sitting on a curb, as far from the lobby as they can get. Smoking a cigarette, passing it back and forth. Steve snaps his fingers, and points to the van. He has everybody’s shit piled on a cart, and they are gonna load it all up. Then they have to find Jeff and Goodie, because they’re gonna stumble back to a motel they’re no longer welcome in.

Eddie’s hands are a little shaky, Steve can tell he’s sobered up, and now he’s embarrassed. Or worried. Both, probably.

Gareth crawls in the backseat, seemingly unbothered, as always. Figures. Steve gets in the driver’s seat, and Eddie climbs in beside him.

"Do you still love me?" Eddie asks, looking at him, hair in his face.

"Unfortunately, yes," Steve says, and reaches for Eddie’s black paint-stained hand, kissing his knuckles.

"How 'bout me? Do you love me?" Gareth asks, sticking his head between them.

"No, never. Sit back," Steve snaps.

Gareth does.

"I’m sorry," Eddie says, and Steve is pretty sure he means it.

"I know," Steve says, "but that’s the end of that. We can’t afford to damage rooms like that again."

"Did we have enough to settle up tonight?" Eddie asks, looking worried.

Steve nods, "Yeah, it’s taken care of. Don’t worry."

"Thanks," Eddie says, "we won’t do anything like that again. I swear."

"Good. Thank you. I’m not paid enough for that kind of headache," Steve says, and it makes Eddie smile.

This is a terrible job.

But Eddie's here, and Steve's pretty fond of him. So, he'll stay.

Notes: This incident was mentioned in Wake Up Time, but I thought it'd be fun to get Steve's POV on these two dickheads for once. In Tuesday's Eddie had mentioned their property damage in this documentary segment:

Eddie Munson, Rhythm Guitar & Songwriter "Our tours were a clusterfuck before Steve whipped us into shape. The property damage alone. Bunch of assholes, we were. He eventually broke us of it, it just took a while and a lot of money."

And this is that story, lol.

This idea is based off these lyrics from a Willie & Waylon song:

And there's a motel out in Fresno Where neither one of us can go back You had a thing about yellow and green So you painted the whole room black

Which is total Eddie and Gareth BFF vibes from this universe. (I changed it to orange, to match the Hawkins HS colors.)

And I've said it before, and I'll say it again, this gifset is the perfect embodiment of Road Manager Steve's energy.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

#steddieholidaydrabbles #no upside down au #corroded coffin #steve harrington: road manager #gareth & eddie #tuesday's gone with the wind #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #corroded coffin fic #stranger things #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles

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danielverstappen · 1 month

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I'm so sorry but your tag about max doing numbers on of on that gifset made me think of a maxiel au where they're roommates and max does of, then max is looking for someone to fuck him and daniel needs some money (for weed or whatever) so he agrees to do it with him even though he's supposedly straight. so they do one of those "I got fucked by my straight roommate" vids and it pops off so they just have to keep making more :)

holy fuck anon!!!! possibly toxic but what if it turns out DANIEL is the one sending max all that money (secretly from a wealthy family?) and max overhears daniel saying he needs weed and thinks daniel needs help so he offers and daniel’s brain short circuits and he CAN’T say no and suddenly he’s actually having sex with max and all of a sudden it’s not just “if i’m just watching it it’s not gay” it’s actually very gay now and he’s also lying to max and they keep doing it because max’s numbers skyrocket but he notices his favorite person (idk how OF works) isn’t there anymore because daniel CAN’T watch themselves and feels like shit for doing the thing anyway and SOMEHOW max finds out and uploads a solo vid and says daniel’s username (are there usernames?) and daniel finds out max has known for quite a while and he gets mad then max gets mad then they have angry sex and figure out their problems and daniel realizes fuck i love you don’t i and max says yes of course daniyul finally it has taken forever for you to notice and they live happily ever after

also if you haven’t read twitter thots au by @fourmula1 you are missing out!!!

(this is what the ask is referencing for anyone wondering)

#i am not gonna reread and just post this #but yeah this is a real fic in my head now #maxiel #maxiel fic #asks

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darlingofdots · 4 months

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Please tell us more about Crown Prince Mianning (referencing your tags on the "please he's a star" Blorbo meme) 👀

okay look so here's the deal (i will write this assuming you have not read these books):

Mianning is an extremely minor character in the Temeraire series. He appears in book 2 and in book 8 for maybe a grand total of 100 pages combined, AND YET when I was re-reading the series 3 times in two months I could not help but love him. some facts about my man:

he's the crown prince of china. this is already fun

he is like, 20? maybe 22? when we first meet him. he's granby's age. he's 10 years younger than laurence, the protagonist

in book 2 his main job is to be less awful and murderous than the other political actors at the chinese court, and to briefly offer respite and a new wardrobe to our much-tried heroes. king shit already

admittedly, he doesn't do much else in that book.

in between book 2 and book 8, his dragon companion is poisoned and killed. that's fucking heartbreaking. and he's still keeping his shit together even though his companion's twin looks exactly like him and that has to be so difficult

absolutely badass when kidnapped and imprisoned. he immediately figures out what's going on and what needs to be done and he and laurence just become A Team. also he keeps referring to laurence as his little brother (because the emperor adopted laurence it's complicated don't worry about it) even though, as aforementioned, laurence is like 10 years his senior. iconic.

he does politics so good i'm so proud

he just? seems like a nice guy? everyone knows the adoption is just for diplomatic reasons but mianning doesn't sneer or protest or treat laurence like a foreign pretender, he welcomes him and his company into his house and makes sure they're safe and comfortable and he speaks on his behalf to the emperor and it's strongly implied that he maintains a positive relationship afterwards and? I love that?

genuinely I think he and laurence should just be friends. brothers for real. I know laurence already has two brothers but it just seems like they'd get along really well. mianning would keep telling him to take on a concubine or two. he'd insist on official visits because you are part of this family now u better act like it >:(

in conclusion:

#temeraire #dottie rambles #dottie replies #technically he's emperor by like mid book 9 but eh #i just think he's neat!

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prince-liest · 1 month

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asdfGH STOP alastor was SO fucking mean in the last 666 installment lol. that ruined orgasm had me cringe in sympathy... however the fact that vox left this one absolutely unsatisfied in some ways (and completely fulfilled in others!! A-plus for effort on the aftercare alastor sadfg good job) makes it stand out all the more that at NO point is there the suggestion that alastor "owes" him something (like finishing him off properly--"I'm not having sex with you again."). like idk, something about vox bitching and sulking without ever actually implying that what alastor is offering isn't good enough and that he's being lead on or whatever? making my aroace heart sing <3 - ✨

Congrats, sparkle emoji anon, you've earned enough investment points from me that I'm willing to publish this ask despite my usual allergy to posting outright explicit words on my blog. Yes, I'm aware that sounds insane considering [gestures the actual fic you're referencing]. Still putting it under a cut, though.

It is so fucking funny to me every time people comment on how mean Alastor is because fundamentally it is me. It's me, I'm mean! That person having a bit of a sadist awakening in my comments in one of the earlier episodes of this series? You're welcome, that came from the heart. The folks that are gently but enthusiastically surprised that Alastor followed through on his threat? Alastor and I are in fact shaking hands about "suffering inspires not mercy but more cruelty." The "set up to fail" tag on AO3 has three fics in it and they're all mine. I'm on the front picket lines for Team "There Is A Fucking Difference Between Delay And Denial Actually!"

That said, I think it's a fun way to write Alastor and Vox specifically because Vox is consistently delighted to be the subject of Alastor's sadistic appetites. While Alastor is certainly projecting a little when he mocks Vox for enjoying being made to suffer through things he's not fundamentally that into (since "forcibly cross my boundaries, thanks" is also an Alastor kink in this series), he's also not wrong. Vox is out here hitting home runs for team Holy Shit Alastor Likes Doing Things To Me. The psychosexual obsession tag is not being retired any time soon.

And I'm glad that it lands well with the subject of Alastor's aroaceness! I'm actually going to tackle that a leeetle bit more in the next episode because despite their dynamic on this subject often including Vox begging specifically because they both like it when Alastor tells him 'no,' it's still, like, a thing that most of the time they've been spending together has been contingent on either sex or grievous injury. Vox is fairly well managing being pushy to vent his frustration without actually being entitled, both as a kink thing and wrt actual hard line 'no' boundaries! Unfortunately, Alastor starting to care about the time they spend together means he's still picking things up that haven't, like, 100% been put down. They continue to be better at rugby-tackling heavy topics than talking like normal people.

Anyway! Thank you very much, hahaha, I'm glad you enjoyed both the sexy bits and the hints of feels!

#ask #personal #sparkle anon #nsft #t #hazbin hotel

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quitealotofsodapop · 4 months

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Wait, I thought red was being babysat during the trial? He's there to protect his favourite uncles during post partum? Did someone go to pick him up during the chaos? Is this the first time he's "met" his grandparents? Ik the sudden labor kinda overshadows everything, including the reason they're in heaven. But there had to be a moment, while everyone was holding their breath after Wukong suddenly left the chat, that the queen mother/jade emperor took notice(had their ankles viciously attacked by a baby dragon and bull tag team).

"Who's goddamn bull child is that?"

Ironfan: Shit

Her parents: *hears her* What-

Red: Mama! Help me protect Uncle Wu!>:( *blows fire at the Jade Emperor's robes as Mei chomps on his other ankle, man is fighting for his life*(neither know who this man is but both know they don't want him near their favorite uncles' room)

Queen mother deciding to be the most unhelpful wife ever bc she doesn't know if she is allowed to interact with the currently on fire calf: Well, this is awkward

PIF *Squints in I fuckin dare you to touch them*

Referencing.

I read that as the JE saying that in the same tone as "Whos white baby is that?"

And describing Wukong as having "left the chat" is just perfect XD

I meant to write it as the Ao Longs bringing Red and Mei to visit Wukong in recovery after they got news of how the Trials went.

PIF would def organise her and Redson's visits so that there's little chance of colliding with the royal couple. She doesnt want the two parties to meet just yet given her and her parents rocky history + not having DBK as backup.

But lil Red is def the type to overhear that "Uncie Wu sick!?" when Pigsy calls the Ao Longs from the Jade Palace, and fire teleport off to protect his fave monkey - Mei in tow.

More chaos is added to "Havoc and Heaven Part 2" as two toddlers (one demon, the other a dragon) pop in to maul the Jade Emperor himself for daring to come close to their fave sworn Uncle.

The Queen Mother hears Red call PIF "momma", see's a tuff of firey red hair (like her own), and just lets out a delighted-shocked "OH!" as the information sinks in that this is her grandbaby!!!

JE is more dense, it takes PIF detaching the little calf up from his ankle to suspect "wait, why is my estrangled daughter tending to this weird baby? And why he calling her momma? And why is my wife cry- OHH!"

Redson: *sets JE's pants on fire*

Queen Mother, former destruction goddess: "Yup. Thats one of mine."

Understandably, things are a little tense in the proceding minutes/days between PIF and her parents... thankfully the rest of the gang are quick to provide defence.

JE may or may not get whacked with a rolling pin by Pigsy for saying something rude about PIF's choice of mate.

#century stone egg au #stone egg talk #lmk red son #lmk pif #lmk princess iron fan #lmk mei #long xiaojiao #lmk aus #lmk #lego monkie kid

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nekropsii · 19 days

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hi, cronus hot anon here.

the child what.

Gona be real i think i completely missed that part of his character arc. I knew of the shitty misogyny and shit, but the incestuous child molestation?

1.) During the Ministrife, Cronus started grinding on Eridan in the middle of a crowd and pressuring him to go out with him. This was "our" Eridan, so he was, like... 13. Cronus is 19, and has been for like a million billion years. And they're related. ==> 1a.) He also hugged Tavros for way too long, making him deeply uncomfortable, which is inappropriate. He was also 13. ==> 1b.) He also followed Karkat home when Karkat didn't respond to his advances, and attempted to break into his house. Karkat was also 13. So, this isn't a one-off thing. It is a pattern of behavior.

2.) I was not referring to the "shitty misogyny" (you are putting it lightly. Very, very lightly.) when I referenced his violent bigotry. That's also bad, though. I was talking about his Ableism, which is so fucking bad it's the reason many people stop reading the Openbounds. He sexually assaults and abuses Mituna on screen because he's of the belief that he'll get away with it since Mituna struggles with communication and "no one will believe him anyway". He openly admits that he wishes culling "meant what it should mean" on Beforus, so that he could kill Mituna for being disabled and experience no repercussions for it. These are just two examples out of 50 gazillion. Everything he says to Mituna is absolutely heinous, and he's said a lot to him.

You really ought to look through my Cronus tag. Particularly cronus.pdf. I talk about him a lot. And maybe you should... You know... Actually read through the Openbounds at some point.

#homestuck #alpha trolls #cronus ampora #cw child harm #cw assault #cw abuse #cw incest #cronus.pdf #nekro.pdf #nekro.sms

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mayordoi · 9 months

Text

songwriting with meiko 🎙️

i have a few things to comment abt this which will be isolated under the cut so the post doesnt get too bloated :] mainly small hcs about meiko/kaito/miku hhhh

an idea that briefly popped in my head when i was brushing my teeth that i did not want to let get away. it was ambitious and i liked the concept of using my hc'd versions of the younger crypton vocaloids (miku's beta design and meiko/kaito's v1 designs) interacting with each other, so i went for it. i designed the general vibe of the background in animal crossing, ol reliable for these kinds of things, since i knew i wanted to cram as much detail in the environment as i could. i made a post about it on my personal account here since i was quite proud of this build.

as i was decorating, i kept spontaneously making headcanons for the younger meiko/kaito/miku unit in order to understand how to populate their living space with accurate clutter. i ended up totally overdecorating the whole thing and only referenced a small portion of the interior (like, why'd i go so hard on thinking about the yard? thats just what happens when i try taking this route) but i did like some of the ideas i came up with to explain my decorative choices. here's just a ramble.

oh yeah i guess i should get something i mentioned in the tags of that art i made w all the crypton gang's "younger" versions out of the way: i hc the character vocal gangs' "younger" designs to be their "IF" or beta designs. and meiko and kaito's younger versions are their V1 designs, mainly inspired by how they appear in the earlier project diva games (every time i look at them i just see them as awkward teens still trying to figure out who they are lmao)

also mentioned there that sakine meiko and meiko are one in the same and the fanloid and vocaloid arent separate entities. sakine meiko was meiko in her early music career as a relatable teen pop idol, with the "sakine" family name being made up to create that image. once meiko grew into an adult, she put the persona behind and just went by meiko, and around that time she met kaito and theyd be musical partners for a while

meiko sort of adopts miku into their unit when she recognizes her potential and serves as a mentor to her after then. kaito is the same but acts more as a supportive guardian in comparison. rin, len, and luka would come along later of course.

yeah i really fuck with the idea of the crypton gang being a little family :] i think it's neat! and this art/animal crossing build was a fun way to explore that hc a little

meiko is a physical media fiend, especially for music. loves collecting cds and vinyls and the like; they're littered all over the house. loves rock music too

kaito on the other hand has a knack for gardening and tends to the very modest garden outside their house. also collects a lot of art he finds in thrift marts and such for novelty's sake

miku always dedicated herself to improving her craft and finding her voice thanks to the help of meiko. she was also kind of a nerd at this era. very serious and dedicated

these folks did not know how to clean shit up, everything left lying on the floor ends up being an intentional decoration (probably not clear in this but i did like scattering stuff around to the best of my ability in the AC build)

ummm that’s it for now i guess i had less than i expected? but i’m glad to get this down somewhere lol feel free to share your own hcs if you wish, i love hearing them

#mayor doidles #fanart #vocaloid #hatsune miku #miku #hatsune miku if #meiko #meiko v1 #kaito #kaito v1 #digital art #cell shaded #art #artists on tumblr #illustration

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stratossphere · 1 year

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If you were interested in making a cheater part two I’d be all over that omg

cheater cheater pt. 2 | j.k

johnny’s got a fucking attitude again, and you’re getting really sick of it (pt. 1 here!)

warnings: smut, reader smokes, knoxville is an asshole in this one, mentions of drugs, a lot of arguing, protected sex, rough sex, hair pulling, light spanking, no happy ending

word count: 5.9k

a/n: this one has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for a long time, and i found a new love for it again and finished it :) once again, i in no way see johnny as a cheater at all, and this is just a fictional scenario!

tags: @asskickedbygirl @kristinee @lizey-thornberry @faceache111 (lmk if you want to be added!)

— —

You and Johnny were at it again. You’d been starting to slowly ease up on each other the month before, and things had even started to look up for you a little bit, but that was until he decided to stay with his stupid girlfriend while continuing to try getting in your pants at every available opportunity.

So, you were right back to fighting during almost every single interaction you had, and it wasn't like you were letting up now. You were all staying in a hotel in Rockford, Maine after getting pinched and fucked with by giant lobsters all day, and everyone had slowly made their way down to start their night of mind-numbing intoxication at the hotel bar.

"This is dumb. Why are we doing this." Ryan grumbled as you and him drank on the steps that led down to the bar despite the fact that everyone else was in an actual group playing pool just on the other side of the wall. Bam wasn't there yet, and had left to go make a drug deal after losing at rock, paper, scissors, so it was just the two of you for now.

"I told you already. PJ is really mad at me because I shouted at him on set, and he told me we'd 'talk about it later', so I'm hiding from him." You re-explained, sighing woefully as you glanced up at the NO SMOKING sign for the millionth time. You really needed a cigarette, but not bad enough to get lectured by hotel staff. You were already pushing it by technically drinking outside of the bar.

"Why the fuck do you care? All you two do is scream at each other. You love arguing." Ryan shot you a look, because he clearly wasn't having fun being away from the group, which made you thankful that he was sacrificing his night to stay with you. You shrugged.

"Because he keeps screaming in my face about everything that I do and it's annoying me." You took a long drink of your rum and coke at that thought, because one could only take so much first-come-to-mind insults about their romantic habits before they started to get a little sick of it. Ryan sighed.

"I told you I'd talk to that fucker about that. If anyone deserves to get their shit rocked right now, it's him." Ryan gave you a serious look, because you knew he definitely meant it, while you just waved him off.

"Hey. If he wants to bury his face in some blonde's fake tits and cry about how much he misses me, I'm not gonna stop him." You sighed, referencing his girlfriend, who you'd discovered was named Mandy. "I mean, she knows that we hook up sometimes. It's not like they're on the heavenly path to marriage."

"I don't know, man. Do the goods even outweigh the bads with him anymore?" And here Ryan went with his 'let's ponder your shitty situation and bad decisions' talk again like you wanted to think about any of that shit. Thankfully, at that exact moment, someone interrupted you from behind.

"What up, you fuckin' losers?" Bam was, for once, your savior in that moment as he trampled down the stairs, a lit cigarette between his lips as he almost stepped right on you getting down to the step in front of you. "Why the hell are you sitting out here?"

"Y/n’s afraid of Knoxville." Ryan said immediately, handing Bam the beer that he’d saved from the bar for him as he plopped down on the step below you. Bam groaned.

"Dude. I don't want to listen to this anymore. You two need to like, officially separate." He said impatiently, passing his lit cigarette over to you once he glanced up at the NO SMOKING sign right in front of your faces.

"That's what I s—"

"Guys! Shut up! I'm not scared of Johnny, and we are separated." You snapped, shooting both of them a look that dared them to speak another word. "I'm a fucking adult. I can make adult decisions and deal with the adult consequences without your opinions."

"You can't be completely separated if his dick's still in you." Bam tried to mutter that little tidbit quiet enough to where only Ryan heard it, but he'd always been bad at whispering. And, unfortunately for you, that was kind of funny, so you found yourself laughing at his insult.

"Alright. I'll give you that one." You caved, making both of them laugh in turn as you took a drag off of Bam's cigarette. If it was already lit, you weren’t going to waste it. "Okay. We can head down. But no instigating, and I want my weed first."

—

Yeah. That lasted about as long as you could've expected.

"Can you get the fuck out of my face? Jesus. What the fuck are you on?" Johnny started it, alright? Those words were the ones that set you off. Not you, like he always tried to tell everyone. You slowly turned in his direction, pool stick held tightly in your hand.

"It was my turn to shoot, dipshit. Get the fuck out of my face." You said through your teeth, harshly shouldering past him to get to your beer on the table behind you. Bam watched this entire encounter, snickering the whole time.

"You two are such shitheads, man. Stop ruining the fucking game." He groaned, starting to laugh again when you shoved him. He had, once again, lit a cigarette, and after about ten minutes of no one saying anything to him, you’d all followed suit, resulting in a bar filled with a stale mix of different cig brands.

"I'm gonna kick his fucking ass in a second. I'm not joking." You weren't together, so it wasn’t like you’d get a domestic violence charge. You weren’t sure if that would’ve stopped you, anyway.

"I'll put money on you if you do." Pontius interjected where he was taking his beer off of your table, chuckling as he looked between you and Johnny. You high-fived him, thankful that someone was consciously aware of the fact that you would no doubt ream Johnny's ass would things ever get as far as physical between the two of you.

"Yo! You're up, fuckface." Steve-O called from the other side of the pool table. He'd missed his shot once again, and with Johnny also missing most of his, you knew you were going to win against them. Their suckage was probably only feeding into Johnny's little temper tantrum, if you knew him at all.

"Yeah. Give me a fucking second." You set down your beer before stepping back up to the table, giving Johnny a dirty look where he was standing close to your left. And apparently he was feeling frisky tonight, because instead of just shooting a look back like you had expected, he opened his mouth.

"The hell are you lookin’ at?" He snarled loudly. You would've been fine if he would've muttered it to you in passing, because you’d said a lot worse when it was just the two of you pissed off at each other, but he was blaring your joint animosity towards each other out to the entire group, and you could tell that it was starting to piss everyone off, which in turn pissed you off.

But you ignored him, taking your shot and sinking in your ball. And then another. And then another. If you couldn't argue, you could certainly embarrass him, which was actually about ten times more effective. Steve-O groaned with every ball that went in the pocket, and then looked close to throwing his stick when you called your pocket and sunk the 8-ball in with six of their balls still left.

"You're such a dick. Stop smiling like that." He complained as you basically showboated in his face, dancing around with your pool stick held in both hands while you hummed in triumph. Whilst doing this, you accidentally brushed against Johnny, and then were promptly shouldered harshly away from him. You spun around on your heel at the fact that he had basically just fucking shoved you.

"Hey. What the fuck is up your ass?" Okay. So it might've not been very helpful to smack his shoulder close to as hard as you could, but he was really getting on your nerves. You immediately felt a hand on your arm, and you glanced back momentarily to see Bam giving you a warning look that essentially said don't start a fistfight with your ex boyfriend. You ignored him.

"Nothing." That was Johnny's response. After almost knocking you into the pool table with how hard he'd slammed his shoulder into you when you’d barely even brushed by him, apparently nothing was wrong with him. Everyone else started to rally over who was next up for the pool competition to escape the awkwardness that was standing in between you and Johnny’s fight, and you took that opportunity to scoff loudly.

"You expect me to believe that bullshit? You're acting like you're not the one that's been a fucking dick to me for the past...you known how long." There was no way in hell you were going to let him pin this whole recent situation on you and say he was acting completely normal and you were the bitchy one. Especially not when he was acting like he was. "If me being here pisses you off that much, then go fuck off somewhere else."

"You've got a real attitude for how you've been acting lately." This man was fucking insane. Sure, you’d been a little snippier with him than usual, but to give yourself some credit, it wasn't exactly fun for you to watch him shove his face in his fake-ass girlfriend's tits every time she came around your sets (which was becoming more and more often) and then come looking after you the second she had to go back home. Especially not when it was common knowledge between basically all of you that his girlfriend knew about you and him but was staying with him because she was in basically every TMZ article of the week when she was with him.

"I could say the same to you. You just fucking shoved me." You threw a hand in the air at his inability to blame himself for anything, feeling yourself reaching the level of seething as he stared back at you with mockingly carefree eyes.

"God, you never shut the fuck up when you're not having the bitch fucked out of you." It's like he had no shame. You just stared at him for a second, unable to process that he'd actually just said that about three feet away from your friends, who thankfully were no longer paying attention to you, before setting your jaw.

"Fine. You want to play that game? Go upstairs." That was a very bad idea, and the challenge you were presenting him with was definitely only going to make things worse, but you had never been one for smart decision making. And he was pissing you off way too much for you to consider just letting this slide.

"I'm not just gonna leave—"

"I'll be right behind you. Go. Upstairs." You repeated, staring him down and motioning towards the stairs with a tilt of your head. His eyes suddenly clicked with understanding of what you were insinuating, and he glanced back at the group momentarily before back at you.

You could not have described the satisfaction that filled you when he marched his happy ass right to the stairs and then up and out of view. Without a single word to you or anyone else in the group. However, they definitely noticed him leaving, and immediately turned to you for an answer.

"I figured you wouldn't want a screaming match here, so..." You explained, praying to heaven above that they didn't immediately see through your bluff. Although you weren't technically lying, because there could've very well been a screaming match waiting for you when you made it up to Johnny, Pontius, and Steve-O's hotel room. However, Preston, who was closest to you, quickly gave you a look that told you he was calling bullshit.

"You're not just going up there so no one will see you beating the shit out of each other, are you?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, you internally sighed in relief. You were honestly much more comfortable with everyone assuming you were getting into a fistfight over having sex. Unfortunately for you, that didn't last long though, because then Ehren opened his mouth.

"No, dipshit. She's going up there to fuck him." He said it like it was obvious (which, let's be honest, it kind of was), wrinkling his nose as he spoke. You groaned.

"I'm not! Do you think I want to be anywhere near his disgusting dick after Mandy's been on it?" You made sure to sing her name sourly, because you’d made it very clear how much you didn't like her, before immediately realizing how suspicious that made you sound. You sighed. "If you're all so worried, I can bring his stupid ass back down here."

"No." Dave and Wee-man spoke at the same time, both making an identical, 'I don't want to listen to your shitty-relationship bullshit' face at your proposal. You snorted.

"Yeah. That's what I thought. So, I'll see you in about ten minutes when he starts pouting and kicks me out so he can rage in his room alone." You were definitely going to take more time than that, but they didn't need to know that. It wasn't like you and Johnny had a habit of short and sweet arguments, anyway.

With that, you turned back towards the stairs, ignoring Ryan and Bam's looks because you knew they knew better than everyone else in the group, before making your way up the stairs after Johnny.

—

Johnny had the hotel door open before you even got the chance to knock. It made you feel a little pleased with yourself knowing he had been waiting for you, but you masked that with a flaming glower as you pushed past him into the room while he closed and locked the door behind you.

You knew he didn't want to do any talking, and expected you to just lay down and open your legs, but he'd been on a different fucking level all night, and you weren’t quite done with citing your grievances.

"What is up your fucking ass today?" You snapped as soon as the door was shut, turning around and crossing your arms. He didn't look surprised that you’d brought it up, just extremely annoyed.

"I'm just not in the mood for your bullshit. You always have something to say about everything." He didn't even raise his voice which, in a way, made you even more annoyed. You raised your eyebrows, because he was one to talk, before throwing a hand in the air.

"You're the one that's got something to say every time I even breathe in a man's direction despite the fact that you have a girlfriend." You shot back, glad that he was standing so far away from you for fear of what you would do if he came any closer. "And you know what? Despite the fact that you're cheating on a girl that couldn't give less of a shit about anything but your fame with a girl that did give a shit about you, I've kept my mouth shut about all that garbage. If you want to keep fucking it up for yourself even more, go right ahead."

"You don't know anything about us. Stop sticking your nose in everyone's business." At your words about Mandy, Johnny's voice immediately shot up in volume, and you couldn't help but laugh humorlessly at the fact. It also didn't help that he was just spewing worthless bullshit that didn't even mean anything in a senseless stream.

"I don't stick my nose in anything. You shove everyone's nose in that fucking bullshit every time you bring Mandy around an hour after we just fucked in your trailer." Her name felt like poison on your tongue, and you hated yourself for how much you felt jealousy burning inside you at having to bring up his 'girlfriend'. "Do you think everyone is stupid? Do you think they don't see all of this?"

"I don't give a shit." That was his class A, well thought out retort to your calling him out on all of his garbage. He just brushed it off with a careless shrug, so you continued.

“Clearly do you, considering you won’t shut the fuck up." You hadn't come up here to fight. You’d come up here to fuck. And you were getting what you wanted.

"Sometimes I think you like fighting. You never shut your goddamn mouth long enough to stop." He was really fucking pushing it. He had a chronic habit of pushing it, but tonight he was really on a different level. Johnny Knoxville himself telling you that you never shut your mouth was gold.

"Yeah? If you're such a little fucking angel, then why don't you come shut it for me, bitch." You goaded in response, standing up off the bed and opening your arms like you were inviting in his best shot. Which, in a way, you were. His jaw clenched, and he stared at you for a second before he was kicking his shoes off messily by the door and stomping after you.

You were almost knocked back when he reached you and immediately crashed his lips onto yours, the only thing saving you being his hand that settled to hold a painfully tight grip on your hip. You weren't taken aback in the slightest, however, and you reached up to fist a hand in his hair that went just as tight, forcing his head closer as you deepened the kiss.

It wasn't long before Johnny's fingers were at the hem of your shirt, only taking a second to rip it over your head as his lips fell away from yours and down to your neck. As he kissed and sucked harshly (which you tried futilely to push him out of considering you did not want to have to explain hickeys to the rest of the crew), his hands found the button of your jeans, and he quickly fumbled it open before getting the zipper down after it.

“Do you have a condom?” You were making a few mistakes, but unprotected sex with someone who was clearly fucking someone else at the same time was not going to be one of them. He scoffed, and you knew that it was because you hadn’t had the same conversation in the past. People fuck up sometimes, alright?

“Suddenly you have fuckin’ standards about everything?” He motioned around the room, as if to reference the situation that you were currently in. You stared him down furiously as you kicked your jeans off, biting back a lot of words that would’ve absolutely ended this little session and turned it into a real fight. Instead, you settled on something a little more toned-down, yet still incredibly offensive.

“If you’re gonna stay with that stupid skank, then you’re gonna keep wearing a condom.” You really didn’t think Mandy was a skank, nor did you really have any serious ill feelings towards her (those had all been redirected towards your stupid shared piece of ass), but you knew it would rile him up. He just clenched his jaw before stepping away from you to rummage through his suitcase next to his bed, coming up with a small foil package before turning back to you. You wondered if he realized that you were winning.

As you let him come towards you before he stuck his index fingers in the waistband of your underwear and yanked them down, you glared at him and diverted his mouth away when he tried to go for your neck, instead helping him get his shirt over his head before working at his stupid KNOXVILLE belt as he kissed you again.

You knew you were making a mistake. You knew that good and well, and you absolutely knew that you were going to regret fucking him in the current mood you were both in when you were feeling a little smarter and more common-sensical later, but you’d made worse mistakes before. You would survive a little bit of shame once you were out of his hotel room.

Johnny could act like he hated you all he wanted, but nothing could cover how hard he was when he finally stepped out of his Dickies and boxers. You let a smirk play on your lips at the fact, and when you looked back up to his eyes, all he was doing was glowering down at you in response.

"Don't fucking say anything." He warned, sounding as if he was almost speaking through his teeth as he watched you slowly move to lay down on the bed in front of him with your legs coyly spread. You, however, were never one for following demands, and the first thing you did was open your mouth.

"Will you just shut the hell up and fuck me? Jesus Christ. You just keep going." That was definitely on purpose as a way to get what you wanted, and you saw that fiery look flaming up in his eyes as he moved to kneel on the still-made bed in front of you.

"Get on your hands and knees. Now." He was so easy to play. If all else failed, you could always trust that Johnny's insolent temper would always betray and overpower his common sense.

You did as he requested despite the fact that you knew it meant you’d probably be leaving the hotel room with legs that you could barely walk on, only wincing slightly when his warm hand on your back pushed you down into an almost uncomfortably-deep arch. Your face was already pressed into the mattress, and you couldn't help but feel excitement fizzling up beside your temper inside of you. That and a burning need for him to hurry up and put his cock in you.

"Suddenly you don't have anything to say. Figures." Funny, coming from him. You twisted your head enough to shoot him a venomous look, eyes full of a hatred that was teetering on the edge of being real by this point as you watched him roll on the condom. You were trying to ignore how incredibly hot he looked from the angle you were in.

"Fuck you, Knoxville." You said it with all of the sincerity you could muster; half because it was definitely what you were feeling inside and half because you knew fully well that calling him ‘Knoxville’ instead of PJ like you normally would’ve would hurt him. Or anger him, at the very least. He only chuckled sourly.

“Y’ already are, sweetheart.” He used the pet name in an equally-hateful tone, and as he spoke, he pushed into you. He didn’t give you much time to adjust, which you knew was both because he was impatient and because he was pissed, but you didn’t really give a shit either way. You obviously weren't going to let it show, but you were just as impatient as he was. You needed to blow off the steam that had been building between you lately somehow, and you weren't going to pass up an opportunity regardless of what form it presented itself in.

Although he didn’t give you time to adjust, Johnny started out thrusting shallowly into you, both hands tightly on your hips as he pulled you back on his cock.

“Go fucking faster.” You knew you were just making things worse for yourself. In fact, you knew that more than very well. But you just couldn’t help it. Tension between the two of you had been building for too long, and you were ready to let it loose in the only way you both truly know how.

Out of nowhere, a hand smacked down on your ass. Hard.

“Shut the fuck up and take what I give you.” Exactly what you fucking wanted. Despite his snapping at you, Johnny’s pace gained power then, his cock beginning to piston into you harshly with his hands back on your hips to keep you from being able to do anything besides just take it. You moaned softly, arching your back a little further just to entice him as you (secretly) relished in the sting of where his hand had smacked your ass.

Usually during these moments where you were locked away in a hotel room or in the secret privacy of someone’s guest bedroom together, Johnny was quiet. He stayed almost silent, and usually he made sure you were pretty close to the same. But now? He was grunting and groaning with every thrust of his hips, pulling higher and higher pitched moans from your lips as he angled his hips to hit that sweet spot inside of you.

“All this backtalk, and yet you’re always whining like a bitch on my cock by the end of the night.” Johnny said condescendingly when you let out a particularly loud cry, hand moving from your hip to grip your ass harshly. You knew you were going to have bruises on your hips by the time you woke up the next morning, and arousal only thrummed hotter inside of you at the thought. “Ain’t mad at me all of a sudden, or what?”

“Shut the fuck up and just do what you’re good for.” You snarled back, praying that your voice didn’t come out as shaky as your legs were. He really never knew how to shut his mouth when he really needed to. If you had been in a different position, best believe you would’ve been pulling harshly at his hair by now. Your comment did not sit well with him, apparently, because suddenly you felt a burning sting in your scalp, and then you were literally being yanked backwards by your hair until you were bent at an uncomfortable angle while still laying with your back arched for him.

“You have a real fuckin’ mouth, you know that?” Once again, Johnny’s tone had gone completely calm besides the occasional rasp due to the fact that he was still slamming into you mercilessly, and you were stuck between being deeply turned-on and a little worried for your own wellbeing. “You wanna know what I think? I think you rile me up on purpose just so that I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk. Clearly you need cock so bad that you have to act like an asshole all the time just to get it.”

You bit back a moan then, because there was no way you were giving him the satisfaction, before you steadied yourself past how good he was fucking you so that you could respond.

“All you do is beg to fuck me. If either one of us is desperate, it sure as hell isn’t me.” Sure, it was actually pretty even on the scale of who-asked-who, but you waited for inconspicuous moments. Johnny essentially tried to stick his hand down your pants every time not every person in the room was looking at the both of you.

“Not like you’re complaining.” He grunted in response, pulling a little tighter where he had a handful of your hair. Soon you were moaning again, starting to feel the effects of his pointedly targeting your g-spot as your legs lost the strength they had started out with. The slide of his cock inside of you was making your head spin, and all you could do was fist your hands tightly in the sheets as you tried to hold off for the sheer effect of making Johnny wait.

You could tell that he knew you were getting close, and just as you began to think that he was going to let your hair go to soothe the ache building in your neck, he suddenly pulled harder. You yelped just as his other hand circled around your hips before he was pulling you up, your back hitting his chest all while he continued to fuck you the entire time. His lips then brushed your neck.

“Who’s fucking you this good, dollface?” If there was anything to be said about Johnny, it was that he liked to play games. Infuriatingly shit-starting games. You learned further back against his chest, instead just moaning instead of answering him because, once again, you weren't going to give him the satisfaction. However, when his hand suddenly snaked over your hip and down before his fingers began to circle slowly over your clit, you lost a little bit of your inhibitions. And he noticed. “Answer me. Who fucks you this good?”

“Fuck, PJ. You.” You caved in a whimper, rolling your hips down on his cock along with his thrusts as his fingers quickly found purchase on your clit. The added pleasure was almost overwhelming, and you reached a hand out to press against his thigh for a false sense of stability. He chuckled breathlessly.

“That’s what I thought.” His chin rested on your shoulder as his arm stayed wrapped tightly around your hips, still holding you in place to his thrusts despite the change in position.

“I’m gonna cum. Don’t stop.” You gasped, your free hand wrapping around loosely around his wrist where he was still rubbing your clit languidly. He only groaned in your ear, hips not losing power despite the fact that you could feel him beginning to switch inside of you. He had always been able to keep it together a little better than you could.

“Cum for me. I know you want to.” He encouraged, thrusting up into you particularly hard so that his tip was hitting right against your sweet spot so directly that you let out an involuntary cry despite the fact that you were trying to control at least a little bit of the sounds that were coming out of your mouth.

Your legs shook hard as you came, your nails digging deep into his thigh where your hand was still pressed down as your back arched against his chest and your head pushed against while you moaned embarrassingly loud. You knew that you were going to replay this moment in your head over and over again a few hours later, hating how much you’d let yourself give in to his charm, but for now you couldn’t have forced yourself to focus on that thought if you’d even cared enough to try.

Johnny came soon after you, his hips stuttering as he continued to fuck you through the moans that fell from his lips while his hand tightened painfully on your hip. You felt another, post-orgasm, shoot of arousal at the sounds of his moans in your ear, and you leaned back as far as you could go against his chest as you slowly fucked through your climaxes before starting to come down.

Johnny let out a satisfied sigh, his grip on you loosening as his hand pulled away from where it had been between your legs. As your mind started to come back to you, awareness also started to come back to you, and you let out a sigh that was for a much different reason than his as you gently pulled off of him and out of his arms.

You knew he was watching you as you crawled off of the bed, and you tried to ignore it as you picked your underwear up off the floor and walked into the adjoining bathroom to clean yourself up. You could hear him get off the bed too, but you didn’t look back.

As you cleaned yourself up and wiped running mascara and eyeliner from your cheeks, you bit back the urge to get angry again; both at yourself and (more) at Johnny. It had happened, and it was probably going to happen again, so there was no use in getting worked up about it all over again.

“Are you staying?” You couldn’t see Johnny as he asked, but you could tell by the tone of his voice that he was probably feeling the same way as you were. You hoped that he was feeling at least a little bit of shame while he pictured his blonde little girlfriend back in LA. You scoffed, not caring whether or not he heard you.

“No.” You would go right back down to the bar, act like you hadn’t just gotten fucked within an inch of your life, and then ignore all the knowing stares when Johnny came down approximately two minutes after you. It had become routine by this point.

“You gonna go back down there and give Dunn and Bam a play-by-play?” There was a hint of sourness in his tone, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek at the fact. You walked back out of the bathroom once you had finished putting on your underwear, met with the sight of him laying on his bed in stark-white boxers.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ve said worse.” You knew that he talked about the two of you’s relationship behind your back. Especially nights like these where, to him, it appeared as if he had won this unspoken fight that had been raging between the two of you for the past few months. “Take a fucking pill or something before you go back down there. You’re ruining everyone’s night.”

“If that’s what you wanna call what we just did.” He still sounded cocky, but he was also more relaxed now, reclined with his hands behind his head and his eyes barely half-open. “Same place tomorrow night?”

“Sure. Stick your head a little further up your ass and then just wait for me.” You said snidely, still chewing your cheek as you pulled on the rest of your clothes. You refrained from glaring at him like you wanted to knowing that it would only encourage him, instead avoiding looking anywhere near him at all as you finally pulled your shoes on.

He said nothing then, but you knew he was staring at you, his foot tapping repeatedly against the mattress like he was waiting for you to either say something or leave. Luckily for him, you were choosing the latter.

Then, just as you got to the door, he decided that he wasn’t done.

“Y/n.” He called your name almost as if he was scared of you, the sound of him moving on the bed causing you to look back and see that he had sat up almost straight. You took a deep breath, trying to will yourself to have some patience where it was wearing thin into almost nothing.

“What.” You were giving him 30 seconds at most. Usually, if he was using that tone, his guilt had set in, and you had no sympathy for his feelings at this time and point in your relationship anymore. No sense in helping him tuck himself into the bed that he had made.

“I’m breaking up with Mandy. When we fly back home.” Fucking Christ. It’s like he craved your reaction to every single move he made. You felt your heart twist, and you just stared at him for a long moment, trying to soothe the sea of different emotions threatening to hurl itself up into your chest.

You didn’t need him. You didn’t need him, and you didn’t want him.

“Okay.” And then you were out the door.

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