#SOON i will be free of paper writing hell

[superfluouskeys]

wip wednesday-thursday ♥

HELLO FRIENDS thank you so much @myreia AND @thevikingwoman for the tags!!!

I am eaten by school rn so I am taking this opportunity to inflict my nanowrimo nonsense upon you :) It's a long excerpt so hopefully tumblr dot website doesn't ruin everything.

tagginggggggg @delirious-comfort @yourlocaldisneyvillain @thepapernautilus @quinnthebard @eemamminy-art annnnnnd anyone else who wants to share!

--

It is the height of the Season of Change.  The year is 12:16, and the Era is called Progress.  The beautiful town of Godsplace reflects a fragment of its ancient glory on days such as these, the warm hue of the changing leaves and the somber grey of the sky set against the severe stone buildings that make up its historic Town Square.

Indeed, Godsplace looks every bit its ancient self today, for set up in the center of the Square is a massive structure, a kind of stage where the players are town officials, and the story is one of deadly seriousness.

Of some interest to the gathered audience are a young man and a young lady passing through the square, neither one paying the crowd any mind.  The young man is handsome and well-dressed, and even if his face were not known to the people gathered in the square, his features are nonetheless unmistakable.  Bryce Davensay is possessed of the bright complexion and strawberry blonde hair of all noble houses of Godsplace.

The young lady traveling with him is known to the people in the square, too, either by face or by name.  Tamsin Ward is possessed of features that lend her a somewhat severe countenance, and hair of the sort people call dishwater blonde, tied back from her face without regard for fashion.  Her dress is plain, but it is clean and fits her well.  To an outsider, it would not seem out of place to see Tamsin walking together with Bryce Davensay.

“Oh,” Bryce stops short.  “Perhaps we’d better find another way around.”

“Why?” Tamsin asks, but soon enough there is no need for an answer.  “Oh.”

Bryce takes Tamsin by the elbow and leads her through the outskirts of the crowd, nodding and smiling his acknowledgement as he passes.  Tamsin keeps her head bowed low, her severe features schooled into neutrality, and follows where she is led.

When they are mostly out of earshot, Tamsin murmurs, “I wonder what happened.”

“Better not to know, I think,” says Bryce with forced lightness.  He gestures that they should turn down a small side street leading away from the square.

“People of Godsplace!” booms a voice from the platform.  “Gather round, gather round!  Do not be so bold as to turn your eyes away!”

Bryce and Tamsin stop cold.  They turn around.  It is too late to leave.

There are four men standing on the platform, each occupying one corner.  They are appointed officials, marked by a telltale patch bearing the town’s seal, which is sewn onto each of their uniform jackets.  Two more approach the platform, with a young woman walking between them.  She is markedly small by comparison, barely more than a girl, really, and she is all bound up in heavy ropes.

Bryce averts his eyes, fixating on a point somewhere below center stage.  Tamsin cannot bring herself to look away.  The girl meets her gaze, wide-eyed and frightened.  Tamsin thinks she must be silently begging for help.

Unbeknownst to the people of Godsplace, an outsider lurks in the shadows, watching the proceedings under cover of a heavy cloak to shield her from the changing winds.  She has half a thought to intervene, but something tells her such an effort would be worse than wasted.  She has other business to attend to here.

The men lead the girl up onto the platform.  She does not struggle.

“Gentle people of Godsplace,” the man on the close left corner continues.  “Look bravely upon this wretched creature.  Know fear, and then know peace, for she will not live to harm you any longer.”

There is a low murmur among the crowd, the ones who came knowingly.  The ones who came to watch.  As if on cue, the cold wind rustles through the trees above them, and the jittery whispers of the crowd take on a hue of growing anticipation.

The men tie the girl to a large wooden stake positioned at the center of the platform.  Her crime is called witchcraft, but there is no telling what she has actually done.  It is dangerous even to ask.

“People of Godsplace!” the front-leftmost man cries, a fanatical note of desperation in his resonant voice.  “Do you know fear?”

Yes, the crowd whispers.  Yes, yes, yes, yes.

“How will you find peace?”

Burn her.  Burn her, burn her, burn her.

“Burn her?”

“Burn her!”

“Burn her?”

“Burn her!”

The back-rightmost man lights the torch that will finish the job.  The flame makes a terrible whisper, a warning rumble, barely even as loud as the rustle of the wind.  The girl starts to cry.

“How will we find peace?” the first man cries, as though beseeching the very heavens.

And the crowd replies, as though possessed by the word of the gods, “Burn her!  Burn her!  Burn her!”

The girl screams.  It is the high, thin scream of a child, and it seems to go on forever.  Even after she stops, Tamsin imagines she can still hear the sound ringing in her ears, louder than the howling wind, louder than the madding crowd, drowning out her thoughts until there is nothing but that endless, deafening scream.

A celebration will follow.  People will dance and sing praises to the gods for protecting them, for rooting out this evil before it could infect this sacred place.  Bryce sees an opening and ducks back toward the side street, pulling Tamsin along by the elbow.  The heavy-cloaked watcher takes note of them, but something tells her she need not follow.

Tamsin and Bryce bolt down the side street and out onto another before they slow their pace, and even then they seem to have silently agreed among themselves not to linger.  They walk quickly and huddle close together.

“I feel it’s my fault,” Bryce murmurs.  “I should have known there’d be a burning today.”

“She looked so…young,” says Tamsin, subconsciously wrapping her arms about herself.  “I wonder what could have happened.”

Bryce falters.  He imagines he knows the answer, but it’s not something a lady should hear.  “It seems to me they’ll think of any excuse these days.  I hope you’ll be careful until the weekend?”

Tamsin’s features contort slightly.  “You make it sound like I’ll be above suspicion by then.”

Bryce doesn’t quite manage a laugh.  “Well.  I hope you’ll take care even after that.  But still.”

“I appreciate the thought,” says Tamsin, not very convincingly.

They hurry through the streets until they turn onto the road that leads to Tamsin’s home, and only then do they slow their pace.  Both had hoped for a more pleasant outing, but their business has been attended to, and their spirits are decidedly soured.  They probably won’t find time to see each other again before the weekend.

Tamsin reaches for the handle of her front door.

“If there’s anything you need, you’ll send for me, won’t you?” says Bryce impulsively.

Tamsin holds, then turns back to him, surprised.  “What do you mean?” she asks him.  “What could I possibly need that I can’t do for myself?”  There is no accusation in her tone, but she is genuinely baffled by Bryce’s offer.

“Just…  I mean,” he tries, tugging somewhat awkwardly at the cuff of his sleeve.  “Look, I didn’t mean anything by it,” he tries again, with a sheepish smile, “just, if anyone gives you any trouble.  You or your mother.  Of course you can handle it yourself, just…  You don’t have to.  That’s all.”

Tamsin remembers, for the first time in months, why she used to like Bryce so much.  His words are sincere, she can see it shining in his eyes.  It’s not exactly his fault that she takes offense at the notion of accepting the privilege of his influence.

She smiles, and means it.  “Thanks, Bryce.  Really.”

He returns her smile, and gives her a small bow before he makes to depart.  “Take care, Tamsin.  Give my regards to Mrs. Burkow.”

“Give my regards to Natty, and Natty only,” Tamsin replies lightly.  Bryce’s sister Natalie is the only member of his family who has any interest in her regards, anyway.

Tamsin closes the door behind her and heaves a sigh.  She thought as time passed, she would just…naturally get used to the idea, but it hasn’t happened yet.  It still seems impossibly foreign, like something out of a disquieting dream.

“Back so soon?” her mother calls from the sitting room.

“It was busy in the Square,” says Tamsin.  It is a euphemism her mother understands.

“I see,” she replies with a sigh.

Tamsin’s mother looks almost nothing like her.  She has warm brown hair and broad-set shoulders, and a round face with the kind of gentle features people tend to read as kindly.  Tamsin, by contrast, is all angles, and even in her earliest youth always had a rather severe countenance, accentuated by the straight set of her brow and the thin line of her lips.

“Bryce sends his regards,” says Tamsin.  Tamsin’s mother is called Mrs. Burkow and not Mrs. Ward because Tamsin herself has no family name.  Mr. and Mrs. Burkow took her in when she was little more than a newborn babe, but she retained the name given to orphans and bastards.  She’s never thought to question their choice.  It’s only a name, after all.  Soon enough, she’ll have another.

Mrs. Burkow lights up at the mention of her future son-in-law.  “Oh, what a perfect gentleman!” she coos happily.  “And how did it go in town?  Everything’s taken care of?”

“Mhm,” says Tamsin, looking for something on which to focus her attention.  The errands were barely necessary, more of a formality than anything else.  The story is that they were to go around to the shop and the ceremonial hall and ensure that all is in order for the weekend, but of course there was no reason it wouldn’t be.

“Honestly, Tamsin, I don’t know why you’re not more excited,” her mother complains.

Tamsin feels a little bad for spoiling Mrs. Burkow’s good mood.  Someone ought to be having a good time.  “It’s not that,” she lies.  “Just, the business in the Square is on my mind at the moment.”

“And that’s another thing,” her mother continues, and Tamsin knows the battle is already lost.  “I don’t know why you let yourself get all worked up about these things.”

Tamsin picks self-consciously at her skirt.  “It’s just a little gruesome, isn’t it?”

“You know, I worked hard to arrange this marriage for you,” says Mrs. Burkow.  “You think it would have just happened all on its own?  No!  And you used to love Bryce!  Honestly, I thought you’d be overjoyed, and instead, this is the thanks I get?  Not three days out from your wedding day, and all you want to talk about is some nasty business in the Town Square?”

Tamsin has given up on finding something to do.  She stands with her hands clasped, contrite and wordless.  Her mother is right, after all.  Bryce is the eldest surviving son of the Davensay family, and thus heir to his family’s fortune.  He is by all accounts handsome and unfailingly kind, well-liked and respected by all their peers.  His prospects are perhaps the very best in all of Godsplace.

Until a few months ago, Tamsin and Bryce were close friends.  They went everywhere together, and told each other nearly everything.  Tamsin’s mother often warned her that she shouldn’t pin her hopes on someone like Bryce, because one day soon he’d be expected to marry, and then she’d be all alone and heartbroken.

But then, back in the spring, Mrs. Burkow had suddenly changed her tune.  It was like the Season of Flowers had bloomed right inside her heart, and she could do nothing but smile wistfully whenever Tamsin came home.

The news had come as a terrible shock to Tamsin.  She hadn’t even celebrated her sixteenth birthday yet, and already she was engaged to be married.  Mrs. Burkow was undoubtedly the happiest about the match, with the possible exception of Bryce’s younger sister Natalie.  Bryce’s parents were (and remain) decidedly skeptical on the matter of Tamsin’s suitability.  Tamsin remains decidedly unenthused.

Bryce himself was decidedly sheepish after the news broke, but it’s clear he has warmed to the idea.  Tamsin reasons that he is a couple of years older, and the eldest son of a noble family besides.  Surely he is simply more accustomed to the notion of marriage in general than she, who had not expected to have to think on such matters so soon, if at all.

Although she cannot be sure what was said, Tamsin thinks it’s very clear her mother has oversold her suitability as a spouse.  Tamsin cooks and cleans and tends to whatever needs tending for her mother not because it is her life’s calling, but because she feels it’s her due.  Mrs. Burkow didn’t have to take her in and raise her, and Tamsin doesn’t know what would have become of her otherwise.  In spite of her humble beginnings, Tamsin had always hoped she might aspire to something a bit different than the lot of a happy homemaker.

And anyway, it’s not like the wife of a nobleman would be expected to do those kinds of things on the regular.  Tamsin imagines she’ll be expected to…socialize, and hold events, a feat to which she is even less suited.  Tamsin is not particularly skilled with people or making pleasant small talk, and she knows perfectly well that marrying above her station won’t be taken kindly.

Indeed, the one who stands to benefit the most from this arrangement is Mrs. Burkow.  It is not she who has married above her station, after all, even if it was she who pulled the strings.  She may freely reap the benefits of her rise in fortune without facing half as much of the backlash.

If Tamsin were the sort of person who could ingratiate herself to the upper class, she thinks, she might know what she’s meant to say to Mrs. Burkow right now.  But she comes up woefully short.  She is not excited for the wedding, and she doubts she ever will be.  And the more she tries not to think about what she saw in the Square, the more it permeates every corner of her mind.  Somewhere just out of sight she’s certain she can still hear that high, thin scream.

“You’re right,” Tamsin tries, her gaze downcast.  “I’m sorry.”

“Honestly,” Mrs. Burkow sighs, but there is a certain note of triumph about her voice.  “You’d think a girl like you would show a little more gratitude.”

But the pitiful words, thank you, catch in the back of her throat.  She is not grateful.  Not for this.

#exciting tag for writing things #personal #nano nonsense #original fiction #v sorry to everyone hoping for updates on things you actually care about LOL #SOON i will be free of paper writing hell #long post

[theloveinc]

the ideas i'm having right now vs. my ability to express them and myself

#im the one in the toilet btw #i just have to be like this for a second i promise i'm not looking for anything and will likely delete this in the morning #but damnnnnn ... i guess to put it nicely (toward myself). i am not where i want to be with my writing at all right now #and i'm so FRUSTRATED #i reread something of mine the other day and i was just like. yuck. i hate myself. #and it's probs just a weird extension of this whole... dysphoria thing im going thru right now but #YEESH I WANT TO EVOLVE #i feel like a big fat caterpillar ready to become a butterfly but idk how the hell to make my cocoon #part of me thinks im in the cocoon but......... it's been a long *ss time in here if so lmao #anyway thats just to say i have two ... or three bomb *ss ideas that i just can't put on paper right #and im not really satisfied with the dabi thing either even tho. i really wanted to be #and it sucks bc all i wanna do is be on here BUT I'M SCARED #hence why my ask responses have been. ok i wont lie. nonexistent #but i think abt my ideas every day and then just fold them up and put them away bc i think if i wait they'll get better #AND THEY NEVER DOOOOOOO #arggggggggggggg its making me so angry #but that's all #hopefully i can write this idea out soon and be free #cuz thats my dream #among bettering my writing along with myself #but hehehe im probs just tired #sorry to be a downer!!! i go beddy bye now #caitie blabs #delete later

[fyorina]

ᡣ𐭩 HE'S THE SERPENTINE, HE'S MY COLLAR!

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: you're finally back in yokohama after spending three years abroad dealing with mori's foreign business. the last person you want is to see dazai osamu, the wounds of his abrupt betrayal still too fresh for comfort. unfortunately, he decides to take matters into his own hands by showing up at your office in the middle of the night.

(wordcount: 7.1k; ņsfw; fem!reader; port mafia executive!reader, f!receiving oral, gunplay, knife play (ish), spitting, pussy drunk!dazai (as always), light choking, overstim, office sex, semi-public/public sex, unprotected sex, switch!dazai, switch!reader, undertones of angst (happy ending). lmk if anything is missing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: guys. GUYS. i had so much fun writing this, this is finally usurping in paper rings and picture frames as my fav fic that i've written. HAHAHH. i hope you guys like it too!!

You hear the door to your office swing open, and you press your lips together tightly, irritation swimming through your head as your grip tightens on the pen you’re using to fill out your paperwork. It’s already late—you’re tired and your head hurts, but you can’t leave the building until Akutagawa comes to hand you the report for his failed mission so you can pass it up to the boss. And you know that whichever subordinate this is, it’s definitely not Akutagawa because the boy would rather claw his own throat out than walk into your office without knocking. 

Which means it’s some upstart new recruit who has no manners and is likely going to make your night worse. You think being away for so long did some real damage to your reputation—three years ago, the lower ranked mafiosos avoided your floor like the plague, they didn’t barge in like they owned the place, but then again, you also had a certain dark-haired executive (ex-executive now, you remind yourself bitterly) lurking around your floor constantly trying to get your attention, and if people weren’t nervous enough about you, they were definitely terrified of him.

“Five seconds to explain why you came into my office without knocking or I’m putting a bullet through your fucking skull,” you say, voice acerbic, not even bothering to look up, the fingers of your free hand closing around the gun you have holstered at your side. 

“There’s a few too many cameras in the hall for my liking to stand out there and wait for you to open the door.”

The fact that he manages to dodge the bullet shot in his direction is testament to his skill, but you’ve known Dazai Osamu long enough to know that when he dodges to the side, nine times out of ten, he dodges left, so you drop your pen as soon as you pull the trigger and swipe the knife laying haphazardly on your desk, launching it in his direction. You watch as his eyes widen just a bit when it impales the wall right next to his ear, just barely nicking his skin—both a warning and a threat.

“My, my, bella, you’ve gotten faster the past few years,” Dazai grins, unperturbed, smile as reckless and lazy as the day he left four years ago as he plucks the knife from the wall. “I’ve missed you too.”

“What the hell are you doing here, Dazai?” you ask, voice cold and sharp as your finger rests against the trigger of your gun. “How did you get up here?”

“Security’s gotten lax since I’ve been gone, I guess,” Dazai shrugs, but his eyes dance with mirth as he makes his way over to your desk. “You should probably do something about that.”

“Dazai,” you say, keeping your voice low and trying to reign in your temper. There are no cameras in your office, but the hall leading here is littered with them, hidden ones that were recently installed that he wouldn’t know about, if any one of them caught his face and it’s reported to Mori… “You think I won’t drag your ass to Mori myself? What the fuck are you doing?”

You’d have to, or it would be your head on the line for betraying the Port Mafia—you know better than anyone the treatment that traitors get, considering you were the one that dealt with them up until you were sent abroad three years ago to handle Mori’s foreign politics. 

“I don’t know, will you?” Dazai counters, head tilted to the side as he takes a seat on top of your desk next to you, a smile on his face that makes you think he knows something that you don’t.

“Maybe,” you answer, finger twitching on the trigger as you keep your gun pointed in his direction. 

Dazai is completely unbothered, leaning down until his nose is nearly brushing yours, lips tugged up in an unbearable smirk. 

“Then do it,” he challenges, and you glare at him, jaw tight and eyes hard. He reaches out, fingertips brushing your skin, and you feel like you’re on fire beneath his touch. You hate that your body still betrays you to him. “Don’t look at me like that, bella. I won’t even resist, I promise, as long as you promise to be the one to put a bullet through my skull, so your face can be the last thing I see. Ah, that would be a lovely death, wouldn’t it?” 

“You’re a fucking freak, Dazai,” you spit out, but make no move to get up or grab your phone. “What is wrong with you?”

Dazai doesn’t respond, only winking at you. Instead, his gaze shifts to the side and his hand drops from your face to his lap again. You hate even more that you miss his touch immediately. 

“You still have my couch,” Dazai notes to himself quietly, an odd tone to his voice as he stares at the dark couch in the far corner of your office, where he’d bundle himself up under blankets to avoid Chuuya, because Chuuya used to avoid your office like the plague when the three of you were younger.

“It’s my couch,” you say tightly, even though you know no one has touched it since Dazai left, and the ugly orange blanket he liked so much is still draped over the back of it, and it probably still smells like him. Your throat feels swollen, and you steel away your emotions and continue with, “I’ve hardly been back here since you left, anyway. What do you want, Dazai?”

“I heard you were finally back in Yokohama,” he says. “I wanted to see you.”

“Fuck off,” you say roughly. “So you decide to break into the main base of the Port Mafia and come all the way up to my office? You know where my apartment is, you could’ve shown up there. What do you really want?” 

“It’s the truth,” Dazai says easily, and his dark eyes meet yours—both of them, you note, and wonder when he decided to shed the bandages that covered his right eye. “I was at your apartment for a bit, I got impatient and came here instead.”

He’s telling the truth.

Oh, you realize—the clogged feeling in your throat is coming back, you force it away again and lean back in your chair, looking away from him to turn your gaze to the window. It’s well past midnight already, the moon is high in the sky and the stars are glittering above. In the distance, you can see the Ferris Wheel of Cosmo World glowing a bright purple color and a string of flashing red and blue lights as the police chase after someone.

“Why?” you ask finally, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over the two of you. 

“I told you,” Dazai says quietly, and your eyes turn back to him. He looks… happier, you can’t help but note. A sick part of you feels jealous—you’re not sure if you’re jealous because he’s free and you’re still stuck in this place, or if you’re jealous because he’s happier and he’s happier in a life without you. You think it might be the latter. “I miss you.”

“Don’t give me bullshit, Dazai,” you snap, still trying to push away all of the feelings you’ve repressed for so long. “Get out of here before you find yourself killed. I’m not going to turn you in, but I’m not saving you if you get caught.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Dazai tells you, voice sharp in a way that it only ever is when he’s starting to get annoyed. “I-”

A knock at your door cuts Dazai off mid-sentence. Both of you freeze, Dazai looks at you as if waiting to see what you’re going to do, and you can so easily finish this now, let whoever is at your door in and drag Dazai back down to the torture room where he belongs, but instead you find yourself reaching for him. Your hand intertwines with his hair roughly, and you revel a bit in the hiss that escapes his lips as you yank him off the desk and roll your chair backward, kicking the back of his knee so that he crumples to the ground and you can push him beneath your desk. 

You lower your gun to your lap so you can keep it pointed at him and then glance down at him—he looks caught off-guard and disgruntled at being manhandled, but you think it's a bit funny how cramped he looks under there. 

“Not a single word,” you warn before fixing your chair and raising your voice. “Come in.”

Akutagawa wastes no time stepping into your office, nodding his head in respect as he makes his way over to the chair on the opposite side of your desk, a bundle of papers in hand. He doesn’t hand you the pile right away and he looks uncharacteristically nervous, and you raise your eyebrows, wondering what the issue is. 

“I am… unsure how to fill out some of the report,” Akutagawa says, unable to meet your eyes as he stares at the windows behind you. “The operation was… not a failure but not a success. The whole mission was in disarray, I do not know who was doing what at certain points.”

You stare at Akutagawa. “What do you want me to say to that?” you ask him, leaning back in your chair. “It’s your job to know that as the field officer for the mission. If you can’t handle that, Hirotsu will take back the position on the next major operation.”

Akutagawa bristles. “I can handle it,” he says, voice clipped. “This mission was just more chaotic than-”

“Than usual?” you ask idly, watching as he stiffens as your interruption. “This was child’s play, it’s unlike you to make excuses, Akutagawa.’

“I’m not making excuses,” he says immediately, “but…”

Akutagawa continues talking, but your attention is ripped away when you feel Dazai shift beneath the desk. You press your lips together tightly, stiffening as his hands rise to your thighs, spreading them a bit so he can settle between them. You glance down, he’s already peeking up at you, dark eyes glittering in a way that has you on edge. 

Don’t you dare, you warn silently, but Dazai only takes it as further encouragement, pressing his lips to your clothed inner thigh, you can feel the warmth and wetness through your slacks. It takes all of your self-control to not inhale sharply when he starts trailing open-mouthed kisses up your thigh until his mouth is hovering right above your cunt. 

You press the muzzle of your gun against his temple. 

He smiles. 

Your jaw clenches as he licks a long stripe between your legs through your slacks, making sure to press his tongue down hard over where your clit is hidden through your clothes. Akutagawa is still talking, oblivious to what’s happening beneath your desk as he airs his complaints about the mission. You could stop Dazai, place your foot on his shoulder and push him off of you, but you don’t, notably—you don’t want to acknowledge that though. You only vaguely hear Akutagawa’s issues, something about interference from a third party—the SDUP? What the hell were they doing there?— and Kajii blowing up an escape route. 

“Give me the report,” you say, cutting him off mid-sentence, and holding out your hand. You’re grateful that your voice comes out steadier than you feel with Dazai trying to tongue fuck your through your pants. 

As you lean forward to rip the papers from Akutagawa, you tense, feeling something sharp press against your inner thigh. Sitting back in your seat and glancing down, your eyes cut down to Dazai, who still has the knife you’d thrown at him and is using it to cut open your very expensive slacks.

You have half a mind to drive your foot into his face, but you refrain. If only barely.

It’s a miracle that you can keep your breath steady, because as Dazai cuts your pants, he kisses every inch of open skin that’s revealed to him. His lips are warm, wet, familiar—so familiar that your legs are instinctively spreading for him, giving him more room to work.

Your eyes scan the report but the words are just jumbled letters and not making any sense. Every time you try to understand, you feel Dazai’s teeth graze your thigh as he marks up your skin. You tense when you feel him bring the knife much closer to your cunt, to finish cutting off the material—you press the muzzle of your gun harder into the side of his head, warning him to be careful. You glance down only to see a hazy smile on his lips as he winks up at you, as if he’s drunk just off of the idea of what’s about to happen.

He works efficiently as always, freeing your lower body of your slacks and panties as quickly as possible, and he wastes no time burying his face between your legs. Your lashes flutter and the grip you have on your pen tightens dangerously, you think it might snap. Dazai’s tongue slides between your folds, lapping up the slick that had begun to pool—you know that if Akutagawa wasn’t sitting a few feet away, Dazai would be making a snide comment about how he knew you wanted him.

Dazai’s tongue flicks over your clit—you can feel him staring up at you, watching for every little reaction, the way your lip tightens as you bite back moans, the way your eyelids unconsciously start to slide shut, the way your breath is just a bit heavier than it usually is. 

This is so dangerous, you think to yourself desperately. If Akutagawa of all people figures out that Dazai is here-

You nearly choke when Dazai shifts a bit underneath the desk to kneel at a better angle, grateful that Akutagawa seems to be too busy wallowing in his own mistakes to notice your struggle. Your gaze  snaps down again, his eyes have fluttered shut as he buries his face deep into your cunt, nose pressed to your clit as he pushes his tongue into your hole and you can feel the way he lets out a silent, but shaky breath, barely holding back a moan.

You notice his free hand slide from where it was propped on your thigh down to his beige pants, fingers fumbling with the button as he desperately tries to slip his hand beneath his waistband to touch himself. You kick his wrist hard, using your foot to pin it against the side of your desk, watching him wince and withdraw his hand, looking up at you with those big brown eyes you can never say no to. 

God, he’s pathetic, his lashes are wet and his cheeks are flushed, eyes glossed over with pleasure as he looks up at you and you know you’ll let go of his wrist if he looks at you like that any longer, so you turn your gaze back up to Akutagawa, who’s staring at his lap and waiting for you to finish the report.

“Get out,” you tell him, voice sharper than you intended. Akutagawa’s eyes snap up to you, brows furrowed in confusion. “Go, I’ll handle this.”

“But-”

“Your job is to take orders, not question them,” you bite out, watching frustration flash across the boy’s face as he rises to his feet. You’re not usually this harsh with the kid, but you’re not sure how much longer you’re going to last and Akutagawa cannot be in here when you cum. You can feel the heat pooling in your stomach and that familiar hazy feeling clouding your mind. “Out, Akutagawa.”

Akutagawa inhales sharply but nods, turning stiffly on his heel to leave your office. As soon as the door to your office clicks shut, Dazai is pushing the chair backwards until the back of it hits the windows behind you, shifting into a more comfortable position as he resumes fucking you with his tongue in earnest. 

He moans into you, wanton and shameless, any restraint he had because of Akutagawa’s presence is long gone. While he was careful to not make noise before, now the sloppy sound of his tongue dragging in and out of your cunt drowns out any other noise in your office, he sucks and slurps, he’s so disgusting, like he can’t get enough of the taste of you, a man who’s been starved for years.

The knife clatters to the ground as he reaches up with both hands to grab your thighs, sliding them over his shoulders so he can push his tongue even deeper inside of you. Only sheer pride drives you to push away the creeping fog as Dazai’s tongue slides back up between your folds to draw figure eights around your clit.

“I should pull the fucking trigger, pulling this shit when he was in here,” you spit out, head falling back as a breathy noise escapes your parted lips when Dazai sucks gently at your clit. He moans again, as if the idea itself turns him on—it probably does, he’s always talked about wanting to die between your thighs. “You’re a fucking freak, Dazai.” 

He lets out a puff of air, you can’t tell if it's a laugh or another moan, maybe a mixture of both, but he’s too focused on drowning in your cunt to respond. Four years without him and you’ve forgotten just how good Dazai is with his tongue, working your body as easily as he did when the two of you were eighteen and seeking each other out before meetings and between missions for a quick fuck. You hate it—you hate that he’s treating you as if nothing has changed and you hate even more that your body is this responsive to him. 

Betrayal, you think, your own body betrays you for him. Again.

“Fuck,” you gasp the word out when Dazai rolls your clit between his teeth gently, sending a jolt through your body that throws you off just enough for that fog you’ve been fighting off to finally win. You choke over a moan, head pressed back against your desk chair, forearm coming up to press against your forehead as your eyes slide shut. Your free hand finally finds its place in his hair, tightening around his dark locks, he lets out a whimper against you, tongue flicking over your clit. “Like that. Just like that.”

You can hardly keep your head on straight as he traces letters around the sensitive bud, you try to figure out what he’s spelling but you’re too far gone. Your head is light and your chest is heaving. You’re barely able to bite back moans as your thighs tighten around his head, hips rocking against his face. You don’t even know if he can breathe, you don’t think you care, so close to the edge that your entire body is tingling and trembling; you don’t think he cares either from the way he’s moaning into you.

It takes one last suck, one last swirl around your clit, and you’re crying out his name, spots dotting your vision as your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face impossibly deeper into you as you grind your hips against his face. God, it feels never-ending, a noise too close to a sob nearly escapes your lips as Dazai ardently laps up all of your cum, not letting a single drop go to waste. You can’t remember the last time you’ve cum this hard—with him, probably, you realize bitterly. None of the one-night stands you’ve had over the past few years have ever compared to him.

You’re still reeling even as you force yourself to straighten in your seat, not willing to let him know just how badly you’re thrown off by how intense your orgasm was. Your head is still spinning, vision still blurring, but you lift your leg and press your foot to Dazai’s shoulder, kicking him back and forcing him out from his position between your thighs. 

He grunts, looking thoroughly disgruntled as he falls back on his ass, pouting up at you as he tries to catch his breath. He looks debauched, lips swollen and wet, your cum smeared on the lower half of his face. His cock is straining against his beige pants and his eyes are still glazed over; he’s looking up at you with an expression that’s nothing short of reverent. 

God, he’s gorgeous. 

You hate him. 

You’ve missed him. 

You shift in your seat and Dazai is lifting himself to his knees, immediately leaning closer, a hazy smile on his lips as he angles his face up and pointedly parts his lips, sticking his tongue out. You know what he wants and the heat that had been slowly dissipating returns with a vengeance, breath catching as you look down at him.

“You’re gross,” you tell him, watching the corner of his lips quirk up even as he keeps his tongue out and waiting.

You don’t deny him. You never can. 

You shift forward, rising to your feet and reaching out to grab his chin, angling your face down. Your grip is too tight, it’ll leave bruises behind and you think that’s the least he deserves so you only tighten it a bit more as you lean over him. You don’t give him what he wants, not right away, letting the saliva gather on your tongue as you observe him, the way his pupils are blown wide and his chest is hardly rising and falling, as if he can’t even let himself breathe in anticipation.

Disgusting, you think again, but it’s fond this time, much to your displeasure.

You decide to put him out of his misery, letting the spit dribble from your mouth down to his. His eyes roll back as soon as it hits his tongue, and your hand slides from his chin to curl around his neck—not tight, just firm enough to feel the way his throat bobs as he swallows.

He lets out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering back open as he looks up at you, entirely blissed out. Your hand slides down more, curling around the ugly bolo tie he’s wearing in place of the black one you’re used to. You tug it hard, beckoning him to his feet; he acquiesces, albeit on shaky legs. 

Immediately, his hands find your hips as he pushes you against your desk, spinning you around to face it before his hand presses between your shoulder blades, pushing you down to bend you over it. Your eyes widen at the sudden change in demeanor, something you’ll never be able to get used to no matter how many times you fuck him; it always caught you off guard back then, it still catches you off guard now. He pulls off the remnants of your destroyed slacks and immediately is grinding his bulge against your ass, a low moan spilling from his lips. 

“How many people have you been with?” he suddenly asks, and you can hear him fumbling to unbutton his own pants. There’s an edge to his voice that you don’t like—something caught between jealousy and possessiveness, and you nearly want to scoff at it.

“What the fuck, Dazai?” you spit out, appalled and not expecting the question. “None of your damn business.” 

You turn your head to the side to rest your cheek on the desk, looking back at him from the corner of your eye. His eyes are still a bit hazy but there’s a tight expression on his face, reminiscent of the one that would be directed toward you whenever he stumbled in on you entertaining anyone other than him years ago. 

“Humor me,” he says, voice cold and eerily familiar. If you weren’t looking at him and if you couldn’t see the tan coat and bolo tie, you’d think you were talking to Dazai Osamu, Port Mafia Executive, and not Dazai Osamu, Detective. 

“A lot,” you finally tell him, feeling the way he stiffens behind you. “I don’t keep count. You?” 

You think he has some nerve asking when he’s probably slept around t-

“None.”

“Bullshit,” you snarl immediately. “How many? Don’t fucking lie to me, Dazai.”

“None,” he says again, gaze lifting from your back to meet yours, his eyes are dark—too dark, too still. Maybe he hasn’t changed as much as you assumed, because the way your chest swells with a confusing mixture of fear and arousal is far too familiar. “You’re the only one allowed to touch me.”

His gaze drags back down, with his pants unbuttoned, he lifts his free hand to caress the swell of your ass, a contemplative expression on his face as he stares down at you, his other hand still pinning you down to your desk. If your heart wasn’t thudding in your ears from sheer anticipation, you’d be irate over the fact that you were letting Dazai Osamu fuck you over your own desk in your own office, but you can’t bring yourself to care now.

“They never made you feel like this.” It’s a statement, not a question, and you want to scoff at his arrogance, but you can’t because he’s right. “They don’t know your body like I do.”

This time you do scoff. “You don’t know shit, Dazai. It’s been four years.”

Dazai’s eyes flicker back up to you, the way his lips curve up into a smile is dangerous.

“No?” he questions. 

A challenge. You never back down from one, not from him. 

“No.”

His smile sharpens.

“I know that after you cum for the first time,” he murmurs, rolling his hips forward. You bite back a moan when you feel the tip of his cock slip between your folds. “The second time comes right after.”

True to his words, your jaw falls slack and your entire body seizes as Dazai thrusts into you, splitting you right open on his cock. The moan he lets out is pornographic, and you wish you could see the way his head falls back and his eyes roll into his skull, but your own vision is white and you’re choking over a sob as you feel the familiar stretch of his cock against your walls.

“There you are.” Dazai has the nerve to let out a breathless laugh and another groan as he stills with his hips flush to your ass, feeling your walls spasm around him as you cum just from the feeling of him pushing inside of you. The hand he has placed between your shoulder blades slides up to curl around your throat. With a firm grip, he pulls you up so only your thighs are pressed against the edge of your desk, back flush to his chest as you gasp, reeling from the suddenness of your second orgasm. You can feel him smile as he nudges his nose against the side of your head, lips pressed to your ear. “The third time takes a bit after the second, but I’ll fuck you through it. Maybe a fourth too.”

“Dazai,” you gasp, eyes blown wide as your head falls back against his shoulder. You don’t know what you’re trying to say, maybe hold on, or wait, because you know you’ll embarrass yourself if he doesn’t give you a second to recover.

He hums in response, and the slow rolls of his hips, the drag of his cock against your walls, it has your head in the clouds, body trembling. Your lips part to speak but no words leave them, and right when you think you can finally force the words out, Dazai draws his hips back and snaps them back against yours hard. Your lips part in a silent moan, only the hand around your throat and the one pressed to your lower belly holds you up as Dazai fucks you at a brutal pace. 

His face drops to the crook of your neck, he moans into your skin, teeth scraping hard as he kisses recklessly up and down every available inch. He’s going to leave marks, you realize, and that’s dangerous now that you’re back in Yokohama because you don’t need any of the other executives to get suspicious, but even if you wanted to tell him not to, you don’t think you’d be able to. Whatever little coherency you had left in your thought process does not translate when you try to speak, the only things leaving your lips being shaky moans and gasps of Dazai’s name.

“Made for me,” Dazai groans. His grip on your throat tightens just enough to make the air you breathe in shallow, your head feels light and you’re not sure if it’s because of his grip or if it’s the feeling of his cock bullying so deep into you that you can feel his tip pressing up against your cervix. “Waited so many years for this, feels even better than I remember, pussy’s made for me, isn’t it?”

Dazai babbles into your ear as he fucks you, tongue just as filthy and unbridled as the day he left. Shameless. He’s so shameless. Doesn’t even care that anyone could walk into your office and catch the two of you; doesn’t care that if anyone does, he’ll end up executed. He’s fucking you in a building full of people that want him dead and all he cares about is how your cunt feels wrapped around his cock.

Your breath hitches as Dazai shifts you to bend over just a little more, still keeping your back flush to his chest but fucking you at a new angle—one that nearly sends you spiraling over the edge for a third time. 

“Gonna give me your third now?” he pants. His hand on your lower stomach slips down, lithe fingers dipping between your folds to search for your clit—your back arches against him when he finds it, a sob spilling from your lips, vision swimming with tears. Dazai laughs again, this one is strained, catching over a moan as your walls convulse around him. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so tight.” 

Unconsciously, his grip on your throat tightens, cutting off even more air. You can hardly breathe, you can hardly think—each thrust of his hips has your head spinning, ripping the little air you can inhale right out of your lungs. The tip of his cock rubs against that spongy spot inside of you every time he snaps his hips against yours, the quick circles he rubs on your clit are electrifying. 

Your cheeks are wet, breath ragged, vision spotty. One last thrust, one last circle, and you’re wrecked, sobbing out his name as your legs give out, only held up by the way he has your thighs pinned to your desk and his hand on your neck. You cum all over his cock so hard that you think you black out for a second, your mind fuzzy and pins and needles pricking all over your body.

Dazai doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your third orgasm, relishing in the way your body twitches and trembles, too sensitive for his touch. 

“Your fourth will come quick,” he gasps. His pace is erratic now, chasing his own release. Your ears are ringing, heartbeat thudding in your ears, the wet, sloppy sound of his cock driving in and out of you resounding through your office. “I don’t think I’ll last for five. Shit, shit, I’m close.”

You have to force yourself to move. You want to see him when he finishes. Your hand wraps around his wrist, nails digging into his skin to try to get his attention. It takes all of your will power to push the two words from your lips: “Flip me.”

He does. Without any sort of hesitation, his hand drops from your throat to your waist. His cock slips out of you for a split second and your cunt aches at the loss, but Dazai is immediately pushing himself back into you as he hoists you up by the thighs, sitting you down on your desk and wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Even through your blurry vision, Dazai is a fucking sight. His dark hair is matted to his forehead, pink lips swollen and wet, cheeks flushed. His eyes glazed over and half rolled back as he chases his high. God, he’s stunning. You’ve missed him. You’ve missed him.

You’re not thinking as you lift your hand to cup his cheek, sliding around to the back of his head to pull his face down to yours, moving on pure instinct. You drag him down to press your lips against his and Dazai is gone. The moment your lips touch his, he’s moaning into your mouth, hips stuttering against you as he spills his cum deep inside of you, and he’s right, because the moment you feel his cum filling you up, warm and thick, so much of it that you can feel it dribbling around his cock, the stickiness smearing against your thighs and ruining your desk, you’re pushed over the edge for the fourth time.

This one is weaker than the rest, not a single noise escapes you but your jaw goes slack and Dazai whimpers into your mouth when he feels your walls tightening around him again. But he takes advantage of your pliancy, pushing you back gently so that your back is flush to your desk. He follows you down, keeping his chest pressed to yours as he maps out your mouth with his tongue. He rolls his hips against yours, slow and deep, fucking his cum deeper into you as the two of you slowly come down from your highs. He slants his lips against yours to deepen the kiss, hand coming up to cup your cheek, his other sliding up and down one of your thighs. 

It’s too intimate. You tell yourself that you only let it happen because you’re reeling from overstimulation but you know it's a lie.

You don’t even know how long you stay in that position with him. It could only be a few seconds, a few minutes, it could’ve been an hour for all you know, laying on your desk with him pressed on top of you, kissing you so passionately that it makes your head spin as much as the orgasms did. 

Finally, you press your hand against his shoulder, signaling for him to get off of you. He does, albeit with a reluctant sigh. You stare up at the ceiling as Dazai shakily rebuttons his pants, making his way over to the closet where you still keep your spare clothes from when you have to stay over at the office to work. 

What did you do?

You’re hyper aware of how swollen your lips are, of the marks littering your neck, of the cum dribbling out of your cunt, staining your desk. 

If anyone finds out about this-

You don’t get to finish the thought, because Dazai comes back over to you. Neither of you speak as he takes a tissue to clean up his cum from your thighs and as it dribbles out of you, nor do you speak when he shifts you into a sitting position, helping you pull on a new pair of panties and a new pair of slacks.

He stands in front of you, dozens of indecipherable emotions rocketing across his face as his dark eyes search your expression for something. You don’t know what, and you don’t even want to look at him but you can’t draw your gaze away from him.

After what feels like forever, he finally speaks.

“I missed you,” he says, voice hoarse as he lifts a hand to cup your cheek. 

You turn away from his touch, ignoring the hurt that flashes through his eyes. 

“Why don’t you believe me? You think four years has changed how I feel about you? I thought you knew me better than that.”

“It’s been four years,” you say, and you hate that your voice wavers a bit. You blame it on still being hazy after your orgasm but you know it’s a weak excuse. You hate that he still has this effect on you after all these years. You hate that you always give into him, and you hate that you know you’ll never get enough of him. You want to hate him, but you can’t. “Knowing how to fuck me isn’t the same as knowing me as a person. I barely know you anymore. You barely know me. And it’s not like you were open with how you felt four years ago. So, forgive me if it’s a bit hard to believe, Dazai.”

“You wear the same perfume. You still shoot with your non-dominant hand for some god forsaken reason. Your lips still twitch whenever you get annoyed even though you do your best to stop it. You-”

“Stop.”

“You still talk to me like you hate me even though your eyes are all soft and you’re leaning in toward me.” Dazai doesn’t stop, and to your horror, he’s right—you had begun to lean in to him instinctively as he spoke. You try to shift away from him, but he follows, fingers grazing your cheek, chest brushing yours. You don’t pull away this time. “I still wear the same cologne you bought me for my sixteenth birthday because it reminds me of you—I spent two months trying to figure out where you bought it when it first ran out. I don’t carry a gun around as often, but when I do, I still try to do that stupid flipping trick you tried to teach me when we were seventeen—I still can’t do it, almost shot myself in the knee last time I tried.”

The laugh he lets out at the last sentence is hollow. He hesitates, as if he wants to continue but isn’t sure if he should. You can feel his blunt nails scraping gently against your skin, his palm warm against your cheek. You want to pull away but you’ve missed him, no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, and you find yourself sinking into his touch. You’ve always questioned why Mori sent you away for so long, angry because you figured he thought you were weak when it comes to Dazai and he didn’t want to risk anything. 

Only a few days back in Yokohama, and you’re already proving him right.

“I’m not the same person,” you tell him, something desperate edges at your tone. Desperate to convince him, or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I still love you,” he rasps, voice quiet as if he’s scared to admit it even to himself, and your heart is suddenly lodged in your throat as you stare up at him with wide eyes, the words he refused to tell you back when you were teens ringing through your head over and over again. “I’ve always loved you. Thought about you every day. I missed you so much.”

“I should hate you,” you say, swallowing thickly, unshed tears blurring your vision. “You didn’t even say goodbye. When Mori said you defected in the middle of a mission, I laughed in his face. Not because I didn’t think you’d never betray the Port Mafia, but because I didn’t think you’d ever leave me without saying anything.”

“If I said goodbye to you, I never would have left,” Dazai tells you quietly, the admission echoing in your years. “And I had to leave. I had to.”

“I should hate you,” you repeat, voice a bit weaker now, and you feel pathetic for falling apart like this in front of him. But it’s Dazai, he’s always had this effect over you. You suppose some things haven’t changed, because that certainly hasn’t. 

“I know,” he murmurs. 

You inhale deeply, shaking your head as you push yourself off your desk and straighten out your clothes, trying to get your head back on straight. You should’ve known better than to think you’d be able to come back to Yokohama and pretend that Dazai Osamu didn’t exist, for better or for worse, the two of you would always find your way back to each other. Mori was right to send you away, although you suppose the man is rarely wrong anyway.

Dazai doesn’t say anything, watching you with an unreadable expression as you search through the ruined piles of paper on your desk for the report that Akutagawa had handed you. Your eye twitches when you realize that it’s stained, realizing that you’re going to have to rewrite the whole thing because you can’t submit a cum-stained report to Mori.

Dazai snorts behind you, as if realizing your predicament. The look you give him is lethal, he silences himself quickly. 

“Don’t get yourself killed on the way out,” you tell him, grabbing your black jacket off your chair and swinging it over your shoulders as you look back at him. “If you make it out of here alive, I’ll see you at my apartment later. Then we can talk.”

His face twists. “What? Wait, don’t leave me here,” he panics, nearly tripping over his feet and your desk chair to follow after you. “Help me sneak out.”

“You got in here yourself,” you say dismissively. “Get out yourself.”

The noise he lets out is pathetic. “You do hate me,” he accuses. 

“No, I could never,” you admit quietly. His expression softens a bit, but you give him a sharp smile. “But I’m definitely not going to make things easy for you. Akutagawa is still out here prowling around. So is Chuuya, actually. Said he’d be at the office all night today. Good luck, you’re gonna need it.”

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai smut #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu smut #dazai osamu x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs x you

[elliespassagerprincess]

house wife reader x mean ellie 👀 ellie works long hours on the weekdays and takes out all of her anger on her docile wife who cooks all her meals, does all of her laundry, cleans the entire house, and make sure ellie’s satisfied 24/7.

Satisfied - (ellie williams x housewife reader)

hi anon! mean ellie? hell yeah. I hope you don't mind, but I added my own twist. I hope you enjoy <3

Pairing: mean ellie x housewife fem!reader

requests are open, feel free to leave one!

HUGE warnings: toxic relationships, murder, gore, violence

Summary: in which you were the perfect housewife

authors note: I'm literally trying to empty out my request inbox, so be ready because there's a bunch of fics coming your way!

"so when last have you seen her?" The police officer asked as he sat across you.

"well she went out yesterday and she never came back"

you saw him look at you and Ellie's house as he was taking notes.

"Any arguments?"

"No"

once again you saw the pen write something on some paper. You wanted to know what exactly he was writing about.

What was talking him so long? You wanted him to fucking leave.

"Thank you for answering these questions, we'll call if we need anything else" the officer said as he stood up.

"Thank you for your hard work! Do I need to walk you out?" You asked with smile

"no, I'll show myself out" was all he said as he walked towards the front door.

As soon as he was out of sight you got up and ran to window to check if he was gone. You watched his car pull out the driveway, and you let out a sigh of relief.

fucking finally.

You ran to you and Ellie's shared room, and between heavy breathes you said "she almost caught us baby".

You walked towards the bed, where Ellie's decomposing body lay. Flies circled her body, her skin was pale and cold to the touch.

You put some of her hair behind her ear "it's ok now, they'll never catch us" you whispered

You loved Ellie. And you would anything for you. Anything including quitting your job and becoming her housewife.

In the beginning you hated it, staying home, cooking, cleaning. But when Ellie praised you, you fucking loved it.

And soon after you became the stereotypical housewife. Cute outfits, aprons that matched whatever you wore. You always woke up before her, to prepare her favorite breakfast. You cooked her dinner.

You fucking did everything.

The two of you were happy. Until Ellie got a promotion. She got more work, the pressure was getting worse for the poor girl.

Ellie came home late and most nights she barley even slept. You tried supporting your wife as best you could. You tried cleaning the house before she came come. You did all her laundry, you even chose her outfits most days.

But it was never enough for her.

One night you cooked Ellie's favorite meal. A prideful smile was on your lips as you put the plate in front of her.

This would cheer her up. You knew it would.

Ellie glanced down at the plate, and she looked back at you. The dark circles under her eyes looked even darker than they did yesterday.

"You are so fucking pathetic" she started.

"I work all fucking day to come to this shit? And look, this table is dusty" she added.

Ellie got up from where she was sitting and she threw the plate filled with food onto the floor. "You have cleaning to do, and don't fucking serve this shit again" she walked out of the dining room and you sat there mouth agape.

This was the first time she's ever said anything like that to you. You sobbed in the kitchen that night. You felt sick to your stomach.

Everything you did was for Ellie and for the first time she wasn't satisfied with you.

Your main mission in life became to serve. To serve her. But what do you do when the one you did everything for, wasn't satisfied?

The next morning you woke up bright and early, and you cooked Ellie a widespread of breakfast. Fruit salad, bacon, eggs pancakes and so much more decorated the table.

You heard the bedroom door open and you saw her walk out, she glanced at the table

"I'm not hungry" was all she said and she walked out the front door.

You were shattered.

Since that day everything you did was wrong.

You couldn't clean right.

Her fingers ran along the cupboard, and she looked at you with a frown.

"Can you not clean right? Should i get a maid? Because you cant do shit"

you couldn't do the laundry right.

you stood in the doorway watching Ellie fit on her suit. She looked herself in the mirror before she made eye contact with you.

"It's still wrinkled and there's a stain" she pointed out.

"fix it" was all she said before she threw the clothes on the floor.

You couldn't even cook right.

Ellie only had one spoon of her food before she pushed her plate to the side

"what's wrong?" you asked

"this is disgusting"

it hurts. Every insult Ellie hurled at you hurt.

You knew she was stressed but it didn't give her the right to take her stress out on you.

One night you tried talking to Ellie. But she didn't want to. She didn't have energy for this.

"Don't you have a house to clean? Oh wait you can't even do that right" she said through a chuckle.

You snapped.

You let out a scream as you grabbed the lamp on your side of the bed. You jumped onto the bed, and you shit her over and over again.

"I"

*hit

"am"

*hit

"the perfect"

*hit

"housewife" you yelled.

Blood littered the walls, and your hands. Heavy breathes left your mouth as you looked at the scene.

"Oh Ellie I'm sorry! This room is filthy! I'll clean it"

you scrubbed the walls, you changed the bedding and you gave her a bath.

Everything was back to normal. It was all clean.

You looked at her decomposing body. She looked peaceful and she wasn't being mean anymore.

This was the girl you fell in love with.

You gave her a kiss on the forehead before you muttered "its time for breakfast" and you left the room to start making your girl breakfast.

You weren't sure how long you were going to get away with this, but for the time being you were happy.

She was better dead anyway.

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou x reader #ellie tlou2 x reader #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams imagine #ellie #ellie x you #dark! ellie williams #ellie miller #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams hcs #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams one shot #ellie williams oneshot #ellie williams promlt #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader

[yanderestarangel]

HIGURUMA HIROMI X FTM READER

A/N: I hated the end result but I decided to post it anyway, I love Hiromi and I needed to write about him lol ✧⁠*ᜊ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᜊ.

TW: porn plot, praise kink only, soft!dom hiromi, blowjob, masturbation, v!sex, cumshot, smut, daddykink, age gap, dilf!hiromi (+43 y), dirty talk, fingering, aftercare, vulnerable!kink

"I'm old enough to be your father... I don't know how you agreed to go out with me."

The words were out of his mouth before he realized ── He was your lawyer, but also your friend, Hiromi was forty-three years old and you were young in his eyes, you were still in college! But that didn't take away the fact that you were an attractive and intelligent boy in his eyes.

And he... He was an old man with a midlife crisis.

You just smiled saying that you had no problems with his age and that he was a gentleman with you ── which was true, Hiromi already had white hair appearing in his locks just like his face was marked by age, but he was still extremely charming, Mainly the lean muscles behind the expensive suit the lawyer always wore, inside or outside the law firm.

Which made you have all kinds of thoughts, except the pure ones.

You arrived in front of your hotel giving him a seductive look, smiling behind your lip gloss as you faintly saw a shy erection in his pants; you softly spoke a sweet excuse for him, inviting him to go to your suite to discuss some papers for a new process that you needed his opinion on... Obviously it was a polite lie.

He was left speechless as he looked at you. The way you said it was really seductive, almost like you were giving off a sweet yet lustful aura to him. He wanted to fuck you. He was so attracted to you, perhaps because of how cute and pretty you looked.

He gulped, and he finally spoke once more:

"Y-Yes... I'd gladly come in so that we can discuss it..."

While your heels made noises on the marble floor, the old man followed you as he looked at your ass in the short silk dress you were wearing. He couldn't resist any longer. He needed your touch, your warmth, your sweetness... The elevator's small space made it easier for him to lean in and kiss you fiercely. Your lips felt so soft, and the feeling of your body against his made him even more aroused.

The lawyer then used his finger to tease your clit while kissing you passionately, enjoying the sensation of your wet pussy against his hard cock.

"Such a naughty boy..."

He whispered in your ear, loving the feeling of you grinding against him and the taste of your lips.

"Goddamn baby boy..."

He then slid his finger in... Oh, it felt so good. You were so tight and wet, it turned him on even more.

"Are you sure you want this?"

You moaned into his lips, feeling his clothed cock against the damp fabric of your panties, you whimpered like a desperate puppy as you begged him in a muffled voice.

"Holy hell, you're so tempting..."

Higuruma was taken aback by how submissive you sounded. He loved it...the way you sounded like you wanted him to do whatever he wanted to you. Especially since he knew you enjoyed being dominated.

"Alright... Let's go inside...soon, you'll have my dick deep inside your pussy..."

He growled at you as he followed you into the room. As soon as he closed the door, he kissed you deeply and roughly, dominating the moment. Your silk dress was ripped off by the older man's rough, calloused hands, you were exposed and vulnerable to his hunger ── His eyes wandered down to the seam between your thighs, your cunt glistened in the dim light of the hotel suite as you whimpered to be touched by him, you were a pretty and submissive little thing to him now.

In the confined space there was no more rational and polite Hiromi; but rather a man who needed release. You saw him quickly take off the belt that held up his pants, lowering them next to his underwear and making his member spring free in front of your face ── it was long with a medium thickness the base of his cock had trimmed hair while along the shaft the veins pumping blood pulsed, a faint pink color adorned the pulsing tip and already dripping with pre-cum ── as you felt the lawyer's fingers tangle in your hair and bring you closer to his crotch.

"You're so fucking hot. Suck it, now baby prince."

You wrap your lips around the cock of the man in front of you, tasting the musk that makes you moan and vibrate against his flesh ── you sucked his cock slowly, looking deep into his eyes. It was an intense experience for him.

"Good boy... Keep going, baby prince... Make sure my cock is clean."

He demanded, watching as you looked up at him. The sight of you sucking him off drove him insane, but he wanted to make sure his cock was clean first. After all, you deserved the best he could offer.

"Fuck ya', take it all in... Suck Daddy's cock...you love it, don't you?"

He pushed his entire dick at once, hitting your throat and making you choke, he grunted softly, pulling himself out of your oral cavity again and forcing you to look at him.

His digits dug into your cheek, making you let out a slightly low moan of discomfort.

"Now... Spread your legs wide open for your old man."

He groaned as you obeyed him, spreading them and showing off your wet pussy. He was almost ready to fuck you hard, but there was something else he wanted to do first.

"Touch yourself for me, doll boy, I want you very relaxed for daddy's dick ya?"

Hiromi couldn't believe how much you turned him on. Seeing you masturbate while lying on the bed was enough to make him explode, but he knew he had to hold back. He wanted to make sure you would cum, too.

"Spread your legs wider... That's it... F-Fuck, you're so sexy..."

He praised you, rubbing his cock slowly while watching you touch your pussy. The sight of how wet you were just made him harder.

"Keep going... Make yourself cum for Daddy. Oh- fuck- God, I want to see you squirt for me..."

But you couldn't bear that torture, you needed to be penetrated by him soon, to feel every inch of the older man's cock in your body ── So, you started to beg pathetically, rubbing your fingers even harder on your clit, desperate for him to grab you hard and make you cum; "please" requests came out of your mouth they sounded throughout the room making Hiromi smile and pin you to the bed with his weight, his lips attacked yours in a raw and hurried kiss.

"Alright, little boy."

He growled before he positioned himself above you, his dick already at your entrance. He took your hand and removed it from your pussy, admiring how red and swollen you were. You felt his fat tip enter your overstimulated hole with a pleasurable burn that made you arch your back and hold onto him tightly ── thanks to the suit top he still wore you held onto the rough fabric of his blazer, as you felt every inch of his shaft fill you and kiss your uterus.

He groaned as he slowly thrust inside you, feeling your pussy muscles squeezing his cock, it was as if it were heaven. He knew he wouldn't last long, he hadn't had sex in years and you were so beautiful and tight, like your body was made for a good fuck with him.

"God, your pussy feels incredible. I won't last long if you keep grabbing me like that boy... fuck-! Open that pussy wider for daddy."

The man with spiky black hair took his hand to your little cunt opening your labia with both fingers and watching how his cock was moving in and out of your body with difficulty, even though you were extremely wet for him. The sight made him moan and look at you beneath him even more desperate for an orgasm ── he captured one of your soft breasts in his mouth as he hammered hard on his hips his cock into you lightly biting your nipple at the end with a wet pop.

"Fucking hell- you're so cute when you're desperate to cum. That's it, baby boy... Be a good boy for Daddy..."

He moaned as he continued thrusting into you, feeling your pussy contracting around him. He loved the way you responded to him, the way you surrendered to him.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good, you won't ever want to leave my side."

He whispered in your ear, his voice filled with lust and desire. He knew he was in control, and he wanted to make sure you remembered this night forever.

"Cum for me, baby... Cum hard, you deserve this ok? Pretty boys don't think about making a mess, they just cum, cum for me please."

Hiromi's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more intense and powerful. He wanted to push you over the edge, to bring you to the brink of your orgasm. You felt a strange burning in your core, much more intense than normal, then you felt your body shake and your pussy squirt on his cock and abdomen, getting a little dirty on the dress shirt he was wearing.

Hiromi on the other hand couldn't hold back any longer as he heard your sweet moans, feeling your pussy tighten around his cock. The sight of you squirting on his cock pushed him over the edge, finally pulling out of your pussy, his cock slick with your juices ── his hand caressing his throbbing member. His eyes locked with yours as he started stroking himself, his breathing becoming heavier.

"Look at these pretty tits of yours... They're just begging for my cum, just begging to be fucked."

He continued to stroke himself, his hand moving faster and faster, until finally, he reached his climax. His hot cum sprayed onto your breasts, coating them in his release. He saw your skin painted with sweat and his sticky cum, leaning down to take one of your breasts in his calloused hands.

"You did so well, lad, you truly deserved every drop of your orgasm for being a good boy for me."

The lawyer leaned over you and gave you a calm kiss on the forehead, carefully wrapping you in his arms and closing the distance between you.

You really didn't know what your relationship would be like after such an intense encounter... But it didn't matter at that moment, At that moment you were just his boy, and that was what mattered.

© All rights reserved to @yanderestarangel on tumblr.

#yanderestarangel #afab reader #tw smut #higuruma hiromi #higuruma hiromi x reader #hiromi jjk #ftm reader #higuruma x reader #higuruma x you #hiromi x reader #hiromi smut #higuruma hiromi x male reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #male smut #hiromi x you #hiromi higuruma #hiromi higuruma x reader #ftm!reader #male reader #male reader x male character #jjk x male reader #jjk x ftm reader #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x ftm reader #transmasc reader

[slvttyplum]

✮⋆˙ oil change | toji fushiguro

synopsis: this mechanic wants to get paid, but in another way

contents: lowercase spelling, not ethical, car sex, fem nicknames, smut.

getting an oil change was hell; it always ended in you paying extra for something you didn’t need. you couldn’t even speak up because you weren’t sure about all the parts.

that’s why you started going to stanley's; he’s a friend of a friend and works on the dirt road with three other friends.

he never scams you and even gives you little touch-ups for free.

“you’re a pretty girl; let me do this for ya.” he’ll say it every time, and you’ll always oblige. as long as he didn’t touch you, all is well.

it was that time again—the oil change. as much as you appreciated this new place, the drive down was hell.

the road was extra rocky as you pulled into the parking lot. a man outside pouring something on the ground, his head turning, and your eyes meeting.

shit.

you quickly divert your eyes and turn off your car. your eyes slide back up, and you notice his attire.

he works there; oddly, you’ve never seen him.

grabbing everything out of the car and walking inside the small building, the smell of garage and gasoline.

miles, a long-time worker, flashes you a smile while tapping his pen.

“didn’t think i’ll see you so soon. what do you need, princess?” his eyes flicking to the computer, then back at you.

“i’ve been on the road a lot, and i realized it’s time for another oil change.” a sweet smile on your face.

tapping his pen some more, he writes something down, then begins typing on the computer.

“stan’s out today, so i don’t think he can do it.” a sigh releasing between his lips, you’re almost devastated until you remember he gave you a voucher.

“ah, he said i can get it free this time since i helped his daughter with something.”

miles looks at you, then back at the computer, a smirk crossing his lips.

“mm, you’re a sweet girl. i hope you’re not lying.” shooting you a wink, he rips off the piece of paper he was writing on and walks outside.

just the basic information and what not, you begin walking to the side of the room where the chairs are, but a tap on the shoulder stops you.

“oil change for pretty girl?” a deep voice sending chills down your body, for who?

you turn around, looking face-to-face with the man you saw outside; his build is strong, and he has a grumpy look on your face.

awe, how cute.

“sorry?” you say, your hand balling up the paper and the other slipping in your back pocket.

“miles, he said that’s what they call you."

your eyebrow lifts up, and you chuckle to yourself at the name. how corny can men be? but hey, free service is free service.

“oh yeah, here, i’m sorry.” you quickly unball the paper, giving it to him, his big, rough hand sliding over yours.

he slides his thumb over yours as he takes the paper, his eyes squinting and reading it as he looks back at you.

“aight, give me 15.” he says, walking off, his broad shoulders and back pressing through the uniform, he was fine as hell.

you walk over to the seats, flopping down, crossing one leg over the other, and resting your elbow on the small table beside you.

the bell rings from the garage door as the dark-haired man walks in. your eyes flicker to his face, then to his name tags as he walks closer.

“toji…” you mutter out. he’s standing there holding out the paper, a black streak on his face and his hands covered in debris.

“here, i heard this one is free, but i don’t know how i feel about that.” his hand running through his hair as he stares you down.

your mouth is open, and you’re stunned, not really planning on spending money and not really wanting to, but then again, he was the one who did the change, not stanley.

“that’s fair, toji, was it? i can give you a twenty.” you take your purse from around your arm, digging in it, and he shakes his head.

“nah, nah. you can me in another way, mama.” his body coming a little closer, hiding all the light from the window that was in front of you.

your eyebrow lifts up when you see he’s a little too close, shifting up in your seat and clutching your purse.

“like what?” your voice echoed off the walls of the small enclosed space.

a scoff escaping his lips as he puts a hand in his pocket and leans down, his lips near your ear.

you’re so nervous that you’re almost shaking.

“you look too good to pass up; i just wanna have a little fun, yeah?” the silence after his words sends a chill down your spine.

your eyes were staring at him, and a tiny sparkle could be seen setting in your pupil.

a pen could be heard dropping; did you even want that? clearing your throat, you quickly stand up.

your body is directly pressed against his. startled. you try to step back, but his hand is too fast, sliding around your waist.

the silence between you two is suffocating, but yet again, it was arousing. a light scent of his cologne whiffing by.

"okay," you say, your back straightening as he slides his hand down. a smirk can be seen if you look closely.

“after you, princess.” his voice was low and deep. you move his hand off your waist and into your hand as you walk to the parking lot.

you slip your keys out of your purse, unlocking the car door. his body hangs over the door as you slide in, his elbow resting on top of the car.

“car sex, classy.” he chuckles, getting in after you, slamming the car door, and immediately unbuttoning his attire.

the windows were tinted, so it calmed your nerves, but the fine man in front of you made your heart race.

sliding off your shoes, you feel your pants unbuttoning. looking up, you see toji undoing them for you, sending butterflies to your stomach.

“i can do it," you say, pushing his hand off and unzipping your pants.

he laughs, pulling off the t-shirt he had on under, revealing his greek-sculpted body.

with his skin glistening from sweat and his abs sitting up just right, clearing your throat, you finally slip off your pants.

“knew you had something nice under there.” he blurts out, pushing off his jumpsuit, now completely naked with nothing but his briefs.

“i could say the same.” you say, slipping off your shirt, completely forgetting you had on no bra.

his mouth hangs open but quickly returns closed when you cover them, he licks his lips, leaning forward.

“no need to be shy; i’ll take good care of you.” his quiet whisper making you feel tingly, like a waterfall forming in between your thighs.

damn, were you that easy? no, no, no.

his hand comes up, caressing your sides, slowly inching towards your hips, leaning closer towards you.

your face moves on its own, and before you know it, your lips are connecting, your soft lips hitting his instantly and moving in sync.

his head turning to the side as he kisses you deeper, his tongue swiping over your lip and instantly moving in.

a sensation between your legs being made, and you let out a moan into his mouth, your eyes darting down seeing his hand in between your thighs.

quickly shutting your eyes and getting immersed in the kiss again, his large, rough hand gripping your hip.

spreading your thighs out, letting him in. his finger swipes down your slit, then to the side of your panties pushing them to the side.

he disconnects the kiss, sighing, leaning up, and picking up both your legs, causing you to gasp.

“these are getting in the way.” he puts both your legs up, having them lean on his hand as he slides your panties off.

the air instantly hitting your heat as you let your panties fall on the floor, the warm heat hitting your cheeks with embarrassment.

maybe this was a bad idea. you try to lean up, but toji leans down, placing a kiss on your lips, then your jaw, wet kisses all down your body.

he stops at your stomach, looking directly into your eye; your throat is dry with nervousness.

he pushes your thighs back, looking directly at your cunt, sliding a finger down your wet slit, causing you to let out a tiny moan.

“a little taste can’t hurt, right?” before you could even answer, hes leaning down and placing a kiss on your warm pussy.

even his kisses felt good, the butterflies swarming in your stomach. he takes a swipe of your pussy causing you to shiver.

sliding a finger over your slit a couple of times, then sliding it in with no warning, a moan escaping your lips.

“don’t wanna be too loud; that’s if you don’t wanna get caught, princess.” his words sent a pleasurable tingle down to your heat.

your hand arm reaches down, and placing your hand on his head, he looks at you, smirking, before swiping a long, wet stripe over your slit.

he leans in some more as his tongue swipes over your clit, pushing his finger into you some more.

taking another swipe of your slit, he curves his finger up and pushes it further back, his lips pursing and forming an o shape as he sucks on your clit.

“fuck…” you moan out, your hand balling into a fist as you grab his hair.

he keeps sucking your clit for a few seconds before leaning up, his body almost pressing against the roof.

leaning down, he grabs his uniform and digs in the pocket, pulling out a condom. you squint your eyes while reading the wrapper.

XL

you swallow hard, eyeing him down, his black hair hanging low and his dark eyes looking down at the wrapper as he pulls it to his mouth and bites off the top.

he quickly slides his briefs down, his hard length plopping on his stomach, the tip passing his stomach.

toji laughs when he notices your shaken expression, carefully lining himself with you and slipping on the condom.

“no need to look like that; i told you i’ll take care of you, yeah?” your eyes flicker at him as he leans down and slowly pushes himself into you.

“wait…” you try to finish your sentence, but he’s already pushing himself into you. he leans down, placing a kiss on your lips.

you wrap your arms around him, and he puts one hand on your waist, the other balancing himself on the side of you.

you can feel him getting deeper inside of you, his warm lips taking you in whole.

he slowly disconnects from the kiss, placing a kiss on your jaw and then your chest, sliding his tongue over the same spot, then sucking.

a soft moan escaping your lips as the tingling sensation from the sucking and him getting fuller inside you.

his eyes never once left your face, making you nervous. no hesitation, he slides out of you and thrusts into you with full force.

“FUCK!” you scream out, your arms sliding off his neck and your hands gripping his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

that doesn’t bother him; he continues sucking your chest, taking all of you in and pushing into you deeper.

he slides his tongue over to a new spot on your chest, sucking there, another moan slipping out of your pretty mouth.

when he slides out of you again and pushes back into you, your eyes bulge out, feeling a sharp sensation of pleasure deep inside you.

“go harder, toji.” you whimper out, he doesn’t hesitate, and he goes even harder, pushing into you deeper.

your head pushing against the car door, he grips the seat as your nails dig into his skin.

he leans up, a spitstring from your chest and his lower lip connecting, his eyes sliding down to your lips.

he leans down, pushing his lips into yours hard as he pushes into you deeper; this time you could feel it even better.

the pleasure heightened, your eyes sliding back, nothing but darkness and blank white spots scattering around.

you couldn’t see anything, but you could feel how close he was—your lips connecting, his wet lips combing with your soft ones.

“you feel so fucking good," he grunts out, pushing deeper inside you. the car slightly shaking, causing your head to push into the door.

his pace gets faster, your walls clenching around him, taking in everything he’s giving you, and your body feeling light.

his body slamming into yours and his flesh combining with yours was everything; your body felt like it was on fire, getting drenched out with water.

pushing into you again, your walls clench around him tight, your body jolting, and a knot deep in your stomach falling.

a loud moan ripples into toji’s mouth as he pushes deeper inside you, giving your sweet spot a kiss.

“tell me… tell me you want him.” he grunts out, trying to slide out your tight, wet pussy. the grip he had on your hip tightened, his fingernails digging into you.

a soft moan escaping, you squint your eyes and open them, his still on you. he places a kiss on your jaw and leans into your ear.

“i want you… so tell me you want me.” he says, his voice still deep. he slides out of you, then back into you, a cough erupting from your throat.

he leans back to your face, pressing a sloppy, wet kiss on your lips. your eyes are low and dark, and a tiny tear drop in the corner of your eye.

all you can do is nod. you felt too good; you couldn’t ruin the moment with words. he was close; you could feel the veins on his dick pulsing against your slick walls.

all he could do was laugh, but he couldn't. the pleasure bubbling inside of him couldn't, and a final thrust sends the both of you over the edge.

your toes curl, and your fingernails dig into his skin, along with his whole dig into your hip. he places a final kiss on your jaw before pushing his chest against yours.

his grip on you loosening, your body shutting down, your hands falling to the side, and your eyes closing.

the silence was sharp but comfortable. you slowly opened your eyes, and his head was laid against your shoulder.

his hair was disheveled and his breathing heavy; you could see his eyes closed and no discomfort in his body language.

he looked cute. before you could get any more thoughts out, his eyelids flickered open, and your eyes diverted elsewhere.

laughing, he slowly leans off of you, pushing his hair out of his face and picking up your panties and handing them to you.

the both of you get dressed up in comfortable silence, stealing glances at each other.

“when you come back, i’ll give you services for free.” he says, buttoning back up his uniform, his eyes locked on you.

your eyes lift up in surprise as you flatten down your hair, a smile sneaking on your face.

“no need. thank you for the oil change." you say, putting your purse in the front seat.

you’re about to open the car door before he grabs your arm.

“let’s grab a bite, dinner, whatever; let me take you out.” desperation coating his tone. you smiled and let out a chuckle.

“sure, toji, text me; my number should be in the system.”

with that, he went back to work, and you went back home with a stupid grin on your face. whatever happens, happens.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #x reader #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji smut #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #toji fushiguro #toji x reader

[weird-is-life]

Hiiii, I saw your post that you reopen your request. Can I please request Aaron Hotchner x reader where he found out that your seeing a guy in another department after he rejected you. It depends on you if you want a happy ending or not. Thank you so much, I hope you'll see this.

Ty for the request🥰! I changed it up a little to a accidental rejection🤭hope that's okay. Warnings: use of y/n, accidental rejection, swear words, jealous Aaron, happy ending(1.2k)

Aaron just randomly passes your office and notices you're not alone. There's a man leaning over your table, blatantly flirting with you, it's so obvious, that Aaron doesn't even need to hear it to know it's flirting. And seeing your shy smile at that makes it even worse.

He overhears a word 'date' and Aaron's face goes white. Some weird feeling raises in his chest, one, that he hasn't felt in a long, long time.

He can't look at it any longer, so he spins around on his heels and storms into his office. His usual frown deepened like 10 times.

Aaron is aggressively writing reports, slapping papers down onto the table and swearing at the 'stupid pens', that keep spilling under the pressure of his intense writing, the whole afternoon.

The team, of course, notices his sour mood, but they choose to simply let Aaron cool down, not wanting to be the ones under his deadly gaze.

It's almost evening, most of the people already left home, that somebody comes to check up on him. It's Penelope.

She nervously knocks on his door, " you can come in, Garcia." Aaron murmurs, not even looking up, from his paperwork.

"Thank you, sir," she steps awkwardly inside and stays quiet, trying to come up with the right words.

Aaron sighs and looks up at her, when he realises, she won't say anything if he doesn't encourage her, "what do you need, Penelope?"

She smiles at him sheepishly," sir, I just wanted to ask if-if you're okay?"

Aaron should have known, that that's why she's there.

But to answer her question? No, he doesn't really feel okay.  There's jealousy boiling in his chest. He likes you, like a lot and-and he'd thought, that the feelings were mutual. That you liked him too and if he'd asked you on a date, you'd say yes.

Aaron's been trying to gather the courage to ask you out for weeks now. And seeing you with another guy just makes him wanna either punch something or dissappear somewhere for a long, long time.

Maybe he should have seen it coming, you've avoided him this whole week and Aaron didn't want to press you for an answer why. So maybe the guy is the why.

Aaron sighs for a second time and mutters," I'm fine."

Penelope raises her eyebrows, she obviously doesn't believe him," are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. You should head home, it's late," Aaron says and dives back into the paperwork, even if his mind is still on you. It has been the whole day.

"I will, sir, but you should go home soon, too," then she adds softly," and even if you are really fine....-I just want you to know, I'm here, always."

Aaron doesn't say anything in response, so Penelope wishes him a goodnight and turns to leave.

Something suddenly comes over Aaron and he stops Penelope as she nears the doorway," Penelope?"

"Yes, sir?"

Aaron hesitates, overthinking it," you're friends with y/n, right?"

Penelope's smile grows into a cheeky one, "best of friends, she's the best. I love her, why do you ask?"

Aaron runs his hand across his face," I just happened to pass by her office earlier and saw a guy there," Aaron hopes he won't regret asking her this in the future, " is-is she seeing him?"

Penelope, weirdly, glares at him, " and what if she is? Why do you care? You rejected her, sir, she's free to date anyone she wants to."

Aaron frowns so hard from the confusion, that his face might permanently get stuck that way from now on. What the hell is Penelope talking about? When did he reject you? Why would he even do that? That's impossible. He rakes his mind for an answer.

"What? Penelope, I didn't-" Aaron suddenly stops himself, remembering what she's talking about. He did it.

He did reject you. He's such a fucking idiot, he can't believe it. Last week, you and Aaron were just talking in the Bau's cafeteria. And out of nowhere, you asked him, all shy and nervous, if he wanted to grab lunch together. To Aaron's horror, he replied 'I don't have lunches, I don't have time for them' and he can remember your little, sad 'okay', and how you just quickly excused yourself and left.

He didn't fucking realise, you were asking him out. He was too distracted by your shy, pretty smile and also the current case they were working on, that he didn't catch on.

"Shit," Aaron curses, " I messed up, I gotta go." Aaron basically runs out of his office towards your, hoping you're still there. Penelope, on the other hand, stands there, smiling happily to herself.

To Aaron's luck, you are still there, packing your bag. Aaron knocks on your door to let you know he's there and let's himself in.

"Hi...-," you turn around with a smile, but it drops immediately after you see Aaron," Oh, h-hello, sir."

Aaron is a little hurt, that you are back to calling him 'sir' and not Aaron," hi, c-could we talk? Do you have a minute?"

You look uncertainly at him, but seeing him so desperate to talk, you nod a yes.

"Thank you," he says out of breath," first of all, I just want to say that I'm the biggest fucking idiot there is. I completely didn't realise that you were asking me out on a lunch, like a date. I was too distracted, but I'm not making excuses. I fucked up and I know that."

Aaron takes a big breath before he continues," I've been meaning to ask you out on a date myself for weeks now. And you did it before me and I completely missed it. I'm really sorry, y/n. I'm such an idiot. I wish I could go back in time and slap myself for it. Because I like you y/n, like a lot," Aaron confesses," but I know, I'm too late and that you're already seeing somebody else. I just....I just wanted you to know, how I feel."

You stand there with your eyes wide and your mouth a tiny bit open in shock. You thought, you were just imagining Aaron's feeling after he rejected you, but turns out you weren't. They are just as real as yours are.

You break a small smile," ask me."

Aaron looks baffled at you, "w-what?"

"You said, you've been meaning to ask me on a date. So....ask me."

"What? But what about the guy?"

"There's no guy, if you mean the guy from earlier, I rejected his invitation to a date. I'm not interested in him," the only guy you're interested in is Aaron," ask me?"

Aaron, finally, feels like he can breath normally after hearing your words and he even smiles at you, " y/n, would you like to go on a date with me? Only if you want to of course."

You bashfully look at him," I'd love to Aaron, but only if you make some time to have lunch with me."

Your cheeky smile is everything Aaron needs to know, that he's forgiven.

"I'll always make time for you, " Aaron reassures you, even if you both know that with the work he has, he can't promise that, but he does it anyway.

"Then it's settled," you smile at him happily and stand on your tiptoes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Call me later, yes?" and with that you're gone, before Aaron even has the time to recover from your soft lips on his cheek.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner angst

[anna-does-a-fandom-thing]

nothing serious.

professor! anakin skywalker.

a/n: hiii! so, @fuckmyskywalker came up with the idea for this concept, and I've decided to write my own fic on it! LOVEE me some starwars boy. But put him in a SUIT?? drool worthyyy.

tw!: smut. lots of smut. ahem. p in v sex, sort of breeding kink? it's small but it's there. use of the name pet!! unprotected sex! do not attempt! dumification kink? also miniscule but there. big big sir kink. Anakin loves asserting the fact that he's the top here.

Disclaimer: 18+ only please! I'm not responsible for the media you consume as an adolescent!

description: Attending the most sought after university definitely was the best decision you'd made regarding your college career, but one perverted professor almost makes you want drop out entirely. Anakin Skywalker, was in no short terms, egotistical and a hard-ass. At least that's what you knew, so why is he asking to see you after class?

Ah, Corscuscant University. One of the most popular STEM universities in the country. The same STEM university you attended. Being a biology major, it was a no brainer for you come here. When you arrived as a freshman Corscuscant felt like your dream school, but like every dream, reality had set in. Your painful reality was Anakin Skywalker; your math professor. Professor Skywalker was one of, if not the most attractive man you had ever seen. He knew he was good looking, too. Almost every person in school had a crush on him, one of those people being you. That's not to say you didn't find him annoying as hell, but you could appreciate a good complexion when you saw one. Despite his good looks, it didn't change the fact that Anakin Skywalker was an egotistical hard ass, whose courses were next to impossible.

It was easy to ignore his big mouth and jabs at any poor soul unfortunate enough to get a question wrong in the beginning, focusing on your studies and logarithmic equations. However, as the class began to get more difficult, your counselor started suggesting attending his after school lessons. Something you couldn't be bribed to attend. But alas, hell hath no fury like a college counselor.

The good thing about Anakin's tutoring is that it's only on Fridays. The bad thing, is that it's a ghost town most days. if he's lucky, Anakin might get 2 or 3 students. So by the second semester, it became just you and him.

Anakin Skywalker was now aware of your existence. He was aware you sucked at math, and he was probably aware of your attraction to college professors who made even Pythagoras hate math. So now here the two of you were.

Just earlier that morning, you'd been notified that the tutoring had been canceled, so your plans for the evening were to go home and sleep. But, before you can walk out of the classroom, Professor Skywalker calls your name. Leaning against his chair, he looks at you piercingly. "Come to my office as soon as possible. We need to discuss your grade in my class."

"Yes professor. " You stuttered, sending a questioning glance to your friend. You walked towards Anakin's office, knowing he'd already be in the room. You hesitated to enter, dreading whatever miserable information he had to bestow upon you, in private. You noticed while peering into the room that he's got a paper in his hand. 'please don't be mine,' you pray.

Once you entered, you moved to stand in front of his desk. "Are you free to stay awhile? I have some questions about your last exam." He says, seeming relaxed. You DID have plans, no, you were not free. Ugh. You guess you can't deny your teacher, so you nod politely. "Great to hear." He says, motioning for you to walk around the desk.

Anakin rolls out his seat, and moves to stand. Now standing in his personal bubble, per his suggestion, you fidget with your hands. "So, what about my exam? Did I fail it, sir?" You start to get worried. "No, no, nothing like that. You actually made top of the class once I graded it." Anakin praised. "I'd actually like to offer you some extra credit."

Anakin motioned for you to take a seat on top of his desk. "What kind of credit?" You asked, now level eye level with his chin. "Just some extra course work and a few more sessions in the week." Anakin shrugged, almost distracted. You hesitated, "I suppose I can, uhm, do that." Anakin smiled at your stutter. He placed his hand under your chin and lifted it to meet his eyes. "You're certainly obedient. I like that." You felt your brain screech to a halt. "Excuse me, what?"

Is Professor Skywalker hitting on you? This has to be a dream. You look up at him, and lo and behold, he's staring right back. He looks hungry, like you're a delicious piece of meat. "You behave when and how i tell you to. Has anyone ever told you that's attractive?" Anakin clarifies, placing both of his hands on desk, trapping you under him. You bristle at his statement. "Sir! that's inappropriate!" Anakin just laughs, and leans in. He says, quietly, "That's alright, pet. It's only inappropriate if someone finds out. I don't intend on telling a soul."

You feel your nose subconsciously scrunch up in confusion. "Pet?" Where did that come from? "You're my little teacher's pet, aren't you? It'll be our little secret." Anakin places one hand on your thigh, the other further along the desk to prop himself up. You can feel his hand wander to your hip, and you're not sure you want to stop him. You didn't know someone's hands could feel that good, with his feather like movements. You're about to let him continue, until you remind yourself that you didn't lock his door. Anyone could walk in.

"Wait, not here. Someone will see." You try to push Anakin away, but he grabs your wrist to restrain you, gently. "Yes here. I can't stop myself." Anakin ducks his head below your chin, and places butterfly kisses along your throat. You hold it in, but you want to moan at his touch. Anakin pulls away, "I'm going to give you your first extra credit assignment. Answer these 3 questions."

You try to focus on his words and not the pooling heat between your legs. "Yes sir." You're pretty sure Anakin noticed you squeezing your thighs together like no tomorrow, and he's just saying these things to rile you up. He quietly moans at your obedience. "Good girl, keeping doing that." You look at him, "What, calling you sir?"

Anakin nods, giving your hip a squeeze. "Yeah, baby. It means you know who's in charge here."

Clearing his throat, Anakin begins. "Now, question one. are you aware of how tempting your body has been to me?" You can feel your cheeks lighting on fire. He's certainly been bold. "N-no sir."

"That's okay, beauty, I'll show you. Question two: will you let me kiss you?"

Oh fuck. You knew that was coming. Oh well, you only live once. "Yes sir." As soon as the words left your lips, Anakin had cupped your cheek, pulling you into a passionate kiss. Anakin was a good kisser. You'd figured that was probably true a while ago, but now? To feel him? It was overwhelming. He pushed against your mouth, using one hand to lift your leg against his hip. Using the new angle, Anakin deepened the kiss causing you both to moan against each other.

You can feel Anakin get more and more aggressive in the kiss, to the point he's pushing the desk a little. You pull away from him for a moment, causing him to chase your lips. "Anakin.." You start, but he cuts you off with a growl. "Who, pet?" You should've expected that one. "You, sir. You're pushing the desk apart." You correct yourself quietly, murmuring your concerns into his ear. Anakin frowns in thought before donning a sultry grin. "I've got a better place for us to continue, dear pet." Before you can question him, Anakin wraps your legs around his waist and takes your mouth in a kiss. He lifts you from the desk before walking towards the couch in the corner of his office.

You yelp as Anakin gently throws you onto it, and you're once again locking lips.

"Mm, sir.." You moaned into his mouth, feeling him crawl on top of you. Anakin smiles, looking down at such a pretty sight. "Such a good girl, pet. You gonna spread f'me?" Anakin tapped your thighs, and you pulled them apart at his request. Anakin settled himself between your legs. "For the last question, pet," Anakin pulls up your skirt and hooks his fingers into the hem of your underwear. "How badly do you want me to fuck you?" Feeling your heart speed up, you replied shaking, "So badly, sir. Please."

"Good girl. you've earned yourself an A+." He rasps, sitting up and undoing his belt. Craning your head, you watch as Anakin unzips his trousers. You almost gasp when he pulls out his dick. You're not even sure you can take him, with how large he is. "It's alright, pet, no need to look scared." Anakin cooed, kissing your jaw. He lifted up your skirt, and pulled on the hem of your underwear. Discarding them, you were now bare for his eyes to see. "We'll go slow, baby." Anakin reassured you, lining himself up with your entrance. Gently as Anakin could be, he pushed into you. Whimpering, you felt tears well up in your eyes. It was both painful and overwhelming, and you instinctually pushed at his chest. "Relax, little pet, relax." Anakin grunted, already being squeezed like a balloon waiting to be popped. Anakin finally bottomed out, after what felt like forever. It felt so good. "Tell me when, darling." Anakin refused to move until you gave him a sign. Taking several deep breaths, you nodded. "No, pet. give me words. Use them, baby."

"Please, sir."

"Please what, my girl?"

You knew Anakin was getting impatient, but you were so overwhelmed with pleasure it was hard to form words. You him growl in your ear. Feeling his hand touch your soft flesh, Anakin gripped your waist and moved without warning, "I'm not going to wait anymore, little pet." You couldn't help but let out a guttural moan. Holy shit. He was so big, and you've never felt so filled in your life. "Sir..!" You cried, pulling him down and kissing him. Anakin begins to kiss you passionately, pressing you into the sofa. His mouth meets yours in a loving and desperate kiss as he starts to move faster, causing your loud whining to be muffled. If you weren't blissed out, you'd die of embarrassment at the lewd noises the two of you created. Anakin, on the other hand, loved it. Feeling him speed up, you pulled away from his mouth and almost screamed. You knew you were close, and you told him so. "Sir, please! Close, close, please.. mm," You were practically crying from how good he felt. "I know pet, I know." Anakin replied, grunting when he felt you squeeze him harder. "God, keep squeezing and I'm gonna burst, baby, fuck."

Hooking his hands under your thighs, Anakin lifted them onto his shoulders, pressing you in half. The new angle made your insides burst with pleasure, making you scream. "C'mon pet, you can do it." Anakin encouraged, hitting all the right spots harder. "Cum for me baby, cum all over my dick, yeah?" His words sent shivers through your spine, and your eyes rolled. It was too much. The coil in your tummy snapped, and you finished with a moan.

However, Anakin didn't stop. Despite your release, Anakin moved even faster. "No, no, sir! I can't!" You cried, already overstimulated to high heaven. "Don't be selfish pet, i know you can do it," Tightening his grip on your thighs, Anakin grunted over, and over, and over with every thrust. "Don't want my cum, baby? huh? Don't want your teacher to fill you up till you're full?"

Too fucked out to use your brain to respond, you squeezed around him again. It was too much for you, and now, the last straw for him. Letting out an animalistic growl, Anakin buried himself as far in you as he could, bottoming out fully. Your tummy felt so warm, being painted with his load for what felt like forever to you.

He collapses on top of you, panting softly. "Such a good girl f'me, baby. M'so proud of you." He coos at you, still out of breath from the intensity of the moment. After a few seconds, Anakin lifts his head and chuckles. "Poor thing, too dumb to respond to me?" He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze. You whine at his teasing, pouting at him. He leans to your ear and whispers, "Don't be shy, baby. You did so good f'me."

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker imagine #god hes so hot

[ivy-plays]

Hello!

Since you write for Helluva Boss, I thought I could request something for it! It's just that this one is pretty specific so you don't have to write if you don't want to! It was just a fun little idea I had while I was watching a movie.

I was wondering if I could request for 'Blitzø x Jessica Rabbit like S/O' romantic headcanons?

Hi!!! I'm so glad you sent In a request. I immediately got ideas as soon as I read your request! I hope you like it and have a good rest of your day/ night!.

Warnings: none really. If I missed any let me know

Paring: Blitzø x Jessica Rabbit! Reader.

Relationship: romantic

Okay so starting off with how the two of you would have met.

You would honestly probably work out of the lust ring mostly because they just seem to have a higher quantity of singers and performers that fit the vibe.

Anyway

The two of you meet during the events of the episode where moxie takes Millie to Ozzy's.

You were performing that night and Blitzø couldn't help but not look away from you as the stage lights hit your red sequence dress just right creating an effect that made it seem you were glowing. That coupled with your sultry singing voice the man was hooked deep.

Blitzø had caught your eye while you were on stage as you noticed a goitcia prince sitting across from him.

That peaked your Interest. And throughout the rest of your set you observed the imp rather closely,and you would be a liar if you were to say he wasn't good looking.

After you are done with your set and made your way off stage and towards the bar Blitzø had managed to slip away from Stolas and made his way over to the bar and over to you.

When he introduced himself you turned your head ever so slightly to look at him and a soft smile graced your ruby red lips.

The two of you talked for a while until your stage manager came over and called you back stage to prepare for your next set.

You wave off your Manager with a promise to follow behind shortly.

Turning back to Blitzø you gently cupped the side of his face and leaned in promising to see him again while secretly slipping a slip of paper with your number on it into his jacket pocket.

It would be a few weeks later that the two of you would meet in person again. The two of you had been talking over the phone during that time just getting to know each other,but tonight the both of you were free so you were taking the opportunity to meet up.

The two of you would meet at a nice ( but not fancy. Just not dirty and has a good health score) restaurant.

The night went well and the both of you had lots of fun and that would end up being how the two of you got together.

Now for the actual relationship

Blitzø would be very protective of you.

Not because he didn't think you were weak by any means, but just because you were pretty famous across hell .

Whenever you weren't busy with practices or performances you would spend your time at I.M.P. .

You got on pretty well with Millie the two of you finding plenty of things to talk about. Moxie didn't mind you either and actually would be extremely reluctant to believe that Blitzø had managed to get such a famous and beautiful person to date him.

And as for you and Loona we'll. Loona took a bit to warm up to you but after you actually got her to have a conversation with you she realized you weren't as bad as she thought. Epically after you told the young hellhound that if she wanted she could get her into most parties/ higher class places without a reservation.

Blitzø didn't initially tell Stolaz about your relationship ( though he did tell you about the arrangement he had with the prince and was surprised that you didn't really mind).

And with how attached Stolaz is to Blitzø sometimes it wasn't long before he found out that the two of you were together.

He was upset at first but ultimately just wanted Blitzø to be happy. Stolaz of course knew who you were and had seen a few of your performances before.

(it's up to you to decide whether or not y'all become a thruple. But since it's not in the request I won't specify.)

Over all your relationship would be pretty solid. You would shower him in love and affection and he did the same to you.

And you already know the bedroom life is 🤌(y'all probably had a threesome with Stolaz a few times. 👀 )

You would use your connections to help I.M.P if they ever needed Intel,and you would spread the word about their business around which brought in a lot of New clients.

With how often you performed at Ozzy's you had formed a close friendship with the king of lust and his jester boyfriend.

So when the giant blue chicken burst into Ozzy's with a worried expression on his face you quickly grew confused.

Ozzy went on to pick you up and rushed back out the doors and back to his palace, and while on the way he explained to you that Vizz and Blitzø had been kidnapped by Crimson and Striker.

(everything that happened in the episode happens and after Vizz returned to Ozzy, you and Stolaz left the palace and you ,as fast as you could, made your way back to your shared apartment.

When you saw Blitzø you immediately brought him into your arms and buried your face in his neck as a few stray tears slid down your face from the relief of him being safe and back home.

After Blitzø recovered from momentary shock he firmly wrapped his own arms around you , resting his head atop your head.

The two of you spent the rest of the night cuddled together.

I hoped you liked it! It got a little longer and a little more rambling than I meant it to lol. But it's my first time writing In a few months. So the word vomit is real .

#helluva boss ozzie #helluva boss #blitzo x reader #blitzø #striker #moxie #helluva millie #millie x moxxie #x gn reader #fanfics #request #fizzaroli x reader

[the0racl30fd3lphi]

More than friends, less than lovers. x.t

pairing: xavier thorpe x gn!reader

summary: the whole hyde ordeal has faded slowly in the background as life carried on, the student body ready to grasp onto some new drama. luckily for them, a love triangle is exactly what they needed to fuel the gossip.

warnings: fluff, angst, love triangle (kinda)

a/n: y'all this idea literally came to me at 4 in the morning so please bear with me (as i also wrote it at the ass crack of dawn) i am so obsessed with percy and xavier and wanted to write this desperately, he is all i can think about.

word count: 1,727

part 2 part 3

——————————————————————————

You hated this. This, stage, between what you were and what you could be. Xavier was your best friend. He always had been, truth be told. Yet as soon as he broke up with Bianca your relationship had a shift. Suddenly somethings had a deeper connotation, a hidden meaning. You didn’t hate it. In fact, this was exactly what you had been waiting for for years. Until She came along.

You didn’t hate Wednesday, unfortunately. She had done nothing to spark your anger. It wasn’t like she was purposely making Xavier adore her. It looked like she would rather be without it, being honest. But did it annoy the hell out of you that he was so enamored with her so quickly, when she did nothing to give the idea that she would reciprocate? And yet he seemed to not want to give up on her? While simultaneously leading you on, making you believe you might have a romantic future with him? And being oblivious to the pain it caused? It was the only thing you ever thought about.

Genuinely, you wondered how he could still be so obsessed with her to buy her a phone, after she wrongfully got him imprisoned. If that wasn’t a walking red flag you didn’t know what was.

You and Xavier had stayed close throughout this internal turmoil you went through. It hurt like a bitch, but you’d be damned if you lost him over a girl he liked. Suppressing your feelings wasn’t anything you were stranger to, there were other ways to get out your thoughts.

Something you did often, that you’d never tell him was how frequently you abused mimicking his ability. At first he had found it interesting and expressed he had no problem with you copying his habits. But if he knew what you used it for he’d probably be mad.

Each night, after leaving his dorm and sneaking back into yours, you drew a photo from that day. What he looked like when he smiled. How he laughed. Taking into extreme detail his face, scrunched, while watching a show together. Though you weren’t really watching the show so much as watching him.

You kept these drawings in a box, under your bed, all the way in the back. It was hidden enough to never be seen or touched by anyone. So you used the late Rowan’s telekinesis ability to bring it out and put it back. Was this a healthy coping mechanism? Oh not at all, seeing as some drawings that originated from the latest of nights and most intimate moments, would have made Wednesday blush. Of course it's all innocent, right up until you put it down on paper.

"Drawing lover boy again?" Your best friend Val, barked at you from across the room.

"Lover boy? That's a new one," you softly put the new drawing of him in the box, and back under your bed in the furthest corner. "Not such an accurate name this time, you're losing your touch my friend."

"Well you wish it was, so close enough in my book," She shrugs and jumps onto your bed.

"Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades," you pull your laptop on your lap, and press play on your favorite show to watch together.

"You sound like your father," She gags and you playfully slap her arm before shushing her and cuddling into her side.

——————————————————————————

It was lunch the next day, you had a free period the class before so you were waiting for Xavier to show up at your usual bench in the quad. He was taking a little bit longer than normal so you started early on your homework.

"If it isn't Xavier's little girl," she paused. "friend."

"Bye Bianca," you waved and put the volume up on your phone.

“Where is he this time? With Wednesday maybe?" she crossed her arms and smiled maliciously. "It's already started!" She laughed.

You tried to mind your business, she only ever wants to cause problems and you know this. "What's started?" you kept your eyes on your work, putting the volume lower to hear her better.

“He's bored of you. Just like when he got bored of me and you two got closer? He's onto Wednesday now, and done with you." She raised her eyebrows and put on an innocent doe-eyed look. "Well, anyway, have a good lunch!"

She walked away and went back to her friends. You didn't want to believe it. Would Xavier really replace you with Wednesday? He couldn't, he wouldn't. Even when he was dating Bianca, sure you hung out less, but you were still in his life. She was just trying to get in your head right?

“Sorry I'm late, got a little held up in class," He put his stuff down next to him and grabbed some food from the lunch you packed for the two of you. Cooking had become a stress habit for you, so nightly you sneak into the kitchens and prepare something for the next day.

“What kept you?" You put your stuff in your bag and grabbed a snack from the pile.

"Class, I said that didn't I?" He talked through a mouthful of food.

“Yeah but, what kept you? The teacher? Extra work?” you tried to press while eating your half of the lunch.

“Uh, just some extra credit work, wanna bring my grade up you know?” His answer was strained, and his eyes looked anywhere but at yours. So you followed his gaze, to Wednesday.

“Yeah, for sure,” You mumbled and went back to eating. Even if you wanted to escape him for another hour, to try and calm the thoughts in your head, you couldn’t. You two had the same class next period and you always walked together.

——————————————————————————

The day felt strained, any conversation with Xavier fell off track and eventually died out too soon. It’d been too long since this pattern started. Ever since she came to Nevermore, things slowly got worse between you two. You weren’t as close as before and it killed you.

So like every night, afraid to break habit, you snuck out of Xavier’s dorm to hang out. Right before you were going to knock on the door you heard two hushed voices in the room.

“You can’t keep doing this Xavier, you’re hurting her.” a voice pressed him for answers, sounding upset.

“We’re fine, Ajax.” Xavier fought back, offended anyone would accuse him of doing anything to hurt you.

“How dense are you that everyone can see it, but you?” Ajax stressed the end of his sentence still trying to be quiet.

“See what!” Xavier was getting increasingly agitated.

Your grip on the handle faltered and it wiggled just loud enough for both boys to notice it. Suddenly the door was opening and you smiled sheepishly at Xavier, “Hi.”

“I’m gonna leave,” Ajax looked between the both of you and you moved out of the way for him to exit. He sent one last glance Xavier’s way before he closed the door and went back to his dorm.

“Sorry, did i interrupt anything?” You apologized, still feeling the tense air.

“No,” He ran a hand through his hair in the same manor that always drove you crazy. “Nothing important.”

And just as quick as your conversation, Xavier went to sketching as you made yourself comfortable in his bed with your book. How quickly he could make your heart speed up and then break it felt like a world record now.

——————————————————————————

It’s been two weeks now since you accidentally overheard Xavier’s conversation with Ajax that night. Things hadn’t changed between you two, and you can’t figure out if that’s a good thing or not yet. Val had been pushing you to just confront him about your feelings. She knew letting them simmer inside was doing no one any good.

So on a night similar to that one fateful evening, you mustered up the courage to finally ask him what you meant to each other.

“Hey Xavi,” you asked, leaning slightly to the side now as he turned around from the mural he was painting on his wall to look at you. “What do I mean to you?”

He seemed to freeze, face tinting slightly rosier, whether it was blush or anger you didn’t know yet.

“What do you mean?” He dipped his brush in the cup he used to clean them, going right back to his art. It made you study his face, his posture, before continuing your question.

“I mean, I know what you mean to me. I know what i feel for you,” you felt emboldened by seeing him try and play off his nervousness watching him tense and straighten his back. “But I don’t know what I am to you.”

He paused and blinked, it looked like he was going to say something but he made no move to speak. After two minuets he finally opened his mouth, “Where is this coming from? You’re my best friend, you’re.. I..” He trailed off.

“But it’s more than that. More than friends,” he flushed pink, taking in a large gulp. “But less than lovers.” His grip turned white on the brush as he slumped slightly. Still he made no move to speak, so you turned away and went to collect your things. Nothing was said between you two as you packed up what you brought and slung your bag over your shoulder.

As you slipped out the door and into the shadows, mimicking a poltergeist you had once seen and turning yourself almost completely invisible. No one could even hear you breath and you floated through the halls back your dorm.

And in the faint night hair, before you left the wing his dorm was in, you could’ve sworn you heard him call your name and try to get your attention. But it was futile as you just sped up and got back to your dorm quicker.

Val said nothing as you slumped into your bed, rolling your stuff off the side and curling up with a blanket in your arms. She must’ve been able to infer what happened, and she climbed in next to you to hold you as you silently wept. Not even a shake ran through you as the tears fell. No one could hear the sound of your heart shattering that night.

#xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday #peter hynes white #xavier x reader #xavier thorpe #im so in love with him #i wanna shift for him so bad

[love-toxin]

jump - cha hyun-su

a/n: sweet home is giving me serotonin for midterm season u know i had to do it <3

(cws: gn pronouns, minor sweet home s1 spoilers, suicidal reader + suicide attempts, puking, failed OD, trauma bonding, mild lewd mentions, omg they were neighbors, dark meet cute)

wc: 3.2k

August 1 - 2020

1410 - Cha Hyun-su.

Otherwise known as your unofficial, non blood-related, possibly-separated-at-birth-twin. Why? Because for a year and a half, you've been living as the official Green Home recluse. Now a second recluse has moved in right down the hall.

“Maybe we dedicate the fourteenth floor to up-and-coming college dropouts now.” You've heard that spoken under the breath of neighbours in the lobby, heard variations of it giggled between nosy ladies that have gotten too old to call it gossip. If they're resorting to gossip about two residents who have turned hikikomori, they're wasting their breath. Not much goes on in your apartment that anybody would want to gossip about.

As for Hyun-su? You're not sure. Sometimes you hear the tinny sounds of gunfire through his metal door. Other than that, nothing. So he games and eats ramyeon, and that's it? If it is, it's a little surprising. He doesn't look the type at first glance. In fact, he looks like he'd fit in with the popular guys you went to highschool with. The bulk box of instant noodles he ordered lies askew in the hallway, which you suppress the urge to kick as you walk by.

Your stomach rumbles. Wish I had the money to order ramen in bulk. Your life's savings jingles pathetically in your pocket: a few won scattered amongst pocket lint. The flickering of the lights overhead should be enough of a cue that you've fallen far in life. This apartment complex is a shithole, and aside from the odd cigarette or two you can snag from the convenience store there's really not much you get joy out of at this point. Food, sex, music, it's all the same. At least touching yourself is free. Not for much longer if I don't come up with rent next week. You absentmindedly kick a crumpled ball of paper down the hall. Unlucky as ever, your sandal goes flying with it, and tumbles right through the door and down the steps before you hear it hit the landing.

“Son a bitch,” You sigh under your breath, and with a moment of hesitation you hop along on one leg. No way are you gonna touch that filthy floor with your bare foot. Each step you take with help from the railing, and by the wall at the end of the landing lies your abandoned shoe–lying on its side like a piece of trash someone couldn't be bothered to throw away. You hop forward and wiggle your foot back into it, toes first. “Home sweet home.” You sigh sarcastically. Each step downstairs after that feels just as dooming as the last.

August 8 - 2020

I think I might have to die soon.

The blue-white glow of your phone screen is all the light you've seen for days. You missed the rent payment. Your application for an extended due date was denied. You're getting kicked out at the end of the month.

Am I in hell already?

A frustrated huff escapes you. Your phone clatters as it hits the wall, but if it's broken or not, you don't care enough to get up and check. What's the point in writing out your feelings if you aren't gonna survive long enough to reflect on them?

You pull the covers higher over your head. I'm doomed. The world is over. You stick your hand out from beneath the warm covers to reach the dial of your CD player, and turn it. Click. No power. They cut off your electricity already.

You fall asleep to the sounds of silence and your own breathing under the smothering covers.

August…something.

You kneel hunched over your toilet, expunging every ounce of fluid and bile from the hellish depths of your stomach. You've been puking for over an hour but there's still stuff coming out. With a loose, loud grunt you bury your knuckles into your stomach in a swift thud, forcing out one last expulsion of acid and chunks of food you probably ate ten years ago in the process. With a heave of laboured breath you sit back and slump against the cold tile wall of your bathroom.

Bad idea. If you work up the courage to try this again, you're sure as shit never using pills for it after this. You swear you could feel each one as they came back up for vengeance, the burn in your throat harkening to the amount of dry-swallowing and gagging it took to get them in there. You'd rather just jump out the fucking window at this point. Sorry to whoever has to clean up the mess.

A pass over your face only smudges the tears drooling down it. This is seriously pathetic. Your sniffles echo off the grimy tile like the chimes of a bell, they sound far-off but they hurt your ears with the vibration. Everything hurts. Your chapped lips burn and your stomach aches with every clench around empty air.

Can I just die now? Am I allowed to die? Your knees hit your chest and you sob your questions out to nobody. Nobody's here and nobody cares. If you weren't a coward, you would've jumped already. You would've jumped two weeks ago when you knew you didn't have the money. You would've-

Ching ching. The doorbell. Ching ching. Right now? Seriously?

Ching ching. Ching ching. Ching ching.

“I'm coming,” You rub your tears dry with an aggressive touch and get one last sniffle out. A single splash of cold water on your face in the sink is all you have a chance to do. Fucking landlord, probably. Probably looking for one last chance to hassle you about the money. Nobody wants to move here, it's easier to keep a tenant than find a new one–or maybe he wants to kick you out early. If that's the case, it'd be the icing on the cake for this absolutely wretched excuse for a life you've ruined.

Ching ching. Ching ching. Without bothering to check the doorbell monitor on your way by, you head for the door and reach out to brush the handle. It's only by sheer coincidence that you pause, and in a moment of clarity, bow your head to peek through the peephole before you turn the handle.

“What the shit-” The rug trips you up as your steps hustle backward, a yelp escaping you as your back hits the floor and you scramble up to sit and stare back at the door in horror. Whatever that was, it…it wasn't…

You swallow dryly. Your hands feel numb. You flick your gaze from the door to the handle and back again, watching with intent fear as whatever it is that's outside keeps ringing the doorbell until it stops. That's the moment the world itself goes quiet.

“I…hear you…”

Your heart itself ceases its erratic beat in that moment. The grin curling up at the creature's dark lips is palpable in its voice. That head of exposed, honeycomb-like brains that you spied through the peephole comes alive in the squishy, spongy sounds that emanate from the other side of your front door.

Bang.

A bulb-like protrusion explodes out from the metal, leaving behind a deep indent that will forever mark the spot where the monster tried to get in. Bang. Bang. Two more in succession show up in the squealing steel of your door. It's trying to get in. It's not going to stop until it does.

“I hear you!!” It shrieks in tandem with your terrified screams. “I hear you! I hear you!!” The cackling of its cracked voice burns holes through your palms and into your eardrums, your hands not nearly enough to block out the horrendous screeching of metal on metal. In a bid of panic, you scramble to your feet and away from the bending frame of your door. Your toenails scrabble against the carpet and nearly catch on the loose threads as you close the distance to the window. You left it open to let the stuffy air out, but now it's an escape hatch. A way out. Your palms grip cool metal as you raise yourself up to the sill and crouch on it on the soles of your feet, perched like a bird pre-flight as you look out into the mid-morning sky and back to your battered front door.

This is it. This is the last chance you'll ever have to look out into the world you're leaving behind. The sky is clear today, oranges and light pinks streaking across the scattered clouds and dissipating more as the sun creeps into the air. The breeze tastes cool and crisp on your tongue, a stark contrast to the warmth that the glow casts over your trembling body. God, I don't wanna jump after all. I just want to look at this view for just a little longer.

Fresh tears chill themselves against your skin in the breeze, but your last, wishful peace is broken by a sudden clang. Like something brittle thudding against a solid surface. The sound draws your head sideways in an instant. The wind whips your hair away to frame your distraction in perfect view, hanging halfway out of his window two doors down.

He stares at you with brown eyes, once blank, now deep with urgency and fear. Hyun-su has a broken mop in hand that he's since stopped smacking against the wall once he's got your attention. He swallows and you watch his adam's apple bob in his throat.

Sorry, I've got to die right now. Those words that you feel brimming at your lips fall silent as Hyun-su motions to you. But you just stare with glossy eyes and a pained smile, because what can he do? There's a monster breaking down your front door, and the last hinge is barely holding on. You want to mouth the words “I'm sorry”, but he suddenly disappears.

It's only a moment before you hear the banging. Like a door swinging open and shut on its squeaky hinges, the shunk shunk shunk shunk resonates through the whole complex and just about vibrates you off the sill entirely. But you cling on this time because the thuds and squealing at your door are growing softer. Soon, the noises stop altogether as you hear a screech and the heavy pattering of the creature's footsteps leading away. In just as much time as it took to decide to throw yourself off the fourteenth floor, you've been left in peace again.

It takes about a half hour before you're ready to move from your perch, to step down on the freezing floor and brace your shaking legs by leaning against the wall. You keep checking all day to see if Hyun-su reappears. You don't see a thing, save for the sunset that marks the dusk of a day you didn't think you'd ever survive.

August ??? - 2020

If Hyun-su comes back, I'll sleep with him. On my life. Or I'll kill him. I haven't decided, honestly.

Your phone's battery is almost dead, and the screw that holds the hinge is so loose it's practically flopping all over the place. It's gone from a flip phone to a flop phone, realistically. Without the internet or cell service, all it's good for is a brick to hold your thoughts inside. Maybe it'll be all that's left of you once you're gone.

Is Hyun-su dead? That thought has been cycling round your head like it's circling a drain for about a day. The more you think about it, the more sure you are that he must've led the monster away to try and draw it from your door. The brain monster hasn't come back since, but neither has Hyun-su. You've tried everything from calling him to aiming a mirror out your window to get a glimpse into his apartment, but nothing. And if you knock on his door and he's not there, what will you do?

You've laid in bed awake all night, and with your stomach growling painfully you sit with your back against the mangled front door and wait. Your eyes shut at the tenth hour of the morning. Come back, Hyun-su. Please come back. Why'd you save me just to leave me alone again? You better not have died for me. The thoughts give you distraction for a while, as long as a while could feasibly last in these circumstances…

Shu-unk.

What the fucking hell was that?

Shunk. Shunk. Shunk.

You blink awake and stagger up to your feet in a rushed scramble. In the distance, just barely audible, is a soft voice echoing off the walls of the empty corridor.

“1412?” You're tempted to press your ear to the door to hear it closer, but the myriad of dents and fist-sized creases left protruding from it don't exactly leave a lot of space for you to listen. “1412?” The sound that had startled you awake, you now realize, is the sound of doors quietly being opened and closed. You're tempted to disbelieve, but the low coolness of that voice desperately makes you want to believe it's Hyun-su. And as terrified as you are of guessing wrong and paying your life's price for it, your fingers shakily clasp the door handle and it turns with a click. The squeals of metal make way for harsh scraping as the ill-fitting door fights the pressure of your body weight as you put everything you have into forcing it open.

It passes the threshold and swings open. You stagger into the corridor and catch yourself on the door frame, your fingers scraping dented steel from the pounding it took at the hands of that monster.

It is. It's him. That soft jawline and those big, brown eyes, the mane of fluffy hair and his unkempt clothes splattered with blood. He stands there lean and awkward in the hallway, lanky and ruffled and looking like he's been through a good bit of hell. His mop handle's got an upgrade but you don't care, really. You just feel a well of happiness surge up inside you that you figured had completely disappeared by now.

Hyun-su hurries up to you. When he gets close, he falters, however. His expression dims as he suddenly seems unsure of himself, and fidgets with the newly-crafted spear that suddenly seems too heavy in his hands.

“Are you okay?” He pants. “The monster-”

“You led it away.”

“Yeah.” He nods. “But you're okay, right?”

“Mh.” Your ears burn a little. This is my saviour, huh? So soft-spoken and meek? “Didn't get me at all. Thank you.”

He nods back, his scruffy locks forming a curtail around his neck as he does so. An awkward silence blankets the empty space. It's broken, however, by a deep gurgling in the pit of your stomach.

“Are you hungry?”

You lay a hand over your stomach as if your touch is going to make it stop rumbling. It's pretty humbling, to say the least–you hadn't realized how weak you'd become on two days without food. Hyun-su doesn't wait for an answer; he reaches into his pocket and pulls out something crinkly and wrapped in foil. It's still warm when he places it in your palm, yet his fingertips carry a chill as they graze your skin in the process.

“You should eat. We need to get going.”

“Where?” Hyun-su points down the corridor, and despite his urging you slip the candy bar into your pocket while you peek out where he's indicating. The door is busted-up and boasts a reinforced exterior from the many bumps and scrapes of a wheelchair coming in and out. You know it well. “1408? Where Mr. Han lives?”

He nods. “There's kids there, and some other people. I, um…I was going to come earlier, but they-”

“I get it.” For the first time in a long time, you crack a smile. “Had to go play hero again, huh?” If he was willing to drive away a monster from a stranger's door by using himself as bait, you can only imagine what he must have gone through to save some poor kids in peril.

“N-No, I-”

“You're a good guy.” You pat him on the chest. “I don't know why a good guy like you came to live in a place like Green Home, but I'm glad you're here.” Hyun-su looks down on you with a raised brow, but his surprise melts slowly into gratitude as he adjusts to your playful jabs. There's not many other ways for you to cope in an absolutely bizarre situation as this.

“...I'm glad, too.”

“Yeah?”

Hyun-su tilts his head down. He's a little hesitant on meeting your eyes, even though you owe him so much. “I'm…glad you didn't jump.”

“Me too.” The sentiment slips out of you so easily. When did that happen? Wanting to live? “I'd be a pretty shitty damsel if I threw away my life after you saved it.”

In the wake of another, now less-awkward silence, you stroll ahead of him towards Mr. Han's apartment. You only glance over your shoulder to make sure he's following, and to quietly reassure yourself that he hasn't disappeared again. When you do, that's when he hustles along to catch up, the smallest of smiles peaking his lips.

“If..”

You turn to look at him beside you. You can't help but pay him your full attention when he speaks–he does it so little, and he's so quiet, you fear you might miss what he says.

“If you feel like you want to jump again..” He extends his hand out to you. Despite the callouses on his long, lithe fingers, his palm looks soft and even…inviting, in some strangely enticing way. “..You can hold my hand. I'll keep you from falling.”

“Oh.” Your feet halt in their tracks. The air feels a bit heavier than it did before–but only in the space that separates you from Hyun-su. His hand lingers there, and beneath the cuff of his sweater's sleeve you spot for the first time those scars. Cuts, slashes, deep and intentional down the length of his tanned skin. Intersecting lines that point towards a past of hurt and harm.

So you and I are the same. Have you now, finally, come to that thought that Hyun-su had when he saw you ready to jump out your window?

“...Yeah.”

You place your palm delicately over his. Your fingers slide together like ivy on a window. They clasp into each other, squeezing like the grip of a latch on a closed door. And you feel at peace for real this time, because from this moment on you won't ever get near a ledge again–not to take a step off, at least. But maybe to see another sunset if you manage to survive that long. A smile perks at your mouth at the thought. God, I hope so.

“Let's hang in there together. Promise.” You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes yours back. The two of you make your way towards the apartment. And when this door opens, it'll close behind you for good.

#sweet home #cha hyun su #cha hyun su x reader #hyun su x reader #gn reader #ellie writes #3k

[koolades-world]

Hello is hug deprived anon again (this might be becoming my name oh no) and I’ve had an idea

I’m sure we can all agree that mammon deserves all the love, especially because his brothers are too mean to him, they pretend they don’t love him too constantly

So, what if Mammon is away for a week, doing photoshoots or dealing with witches or something, and MC is moping because they miss him,, like, they keep turning to their side to whisper to him and then like deflating when they see no Mammon,, and like, reaching out on that side to hold his hand and then being confused when there’s nothing there, and then they realize :( maybe they stole his blanket from his room because it smells like him, so it’s the best substitute for Mammon hugs while he’s away

Maybe Beel (idk if any of the other bros would be nice enough to tell him) is texting him like “your human is too sad come back soon” and sending him pictures of MC doing this stuff

When Mammon returns MC jumps on him for hugs like “you’re home!!!!!”

Idk I think he’d cry

I think he would feel very loved and probably also cry abt it

What you think? What do you think he’d do?

(If you choose not to write anything about this no worries obviously) (but I eventually might lol I think it’d be very cute and make him very happy to have someone who really misses him when he’s away)

HI!! haha if you want and plan to request more, feel free to pick an anon name! or I could just call you something like hug LOL

wayyy back when I first got into obey me in like 2021, there was this one specific fic I read kind of similar to his idea where mammon was upset at be mistreated and mc stood up for him and it was this cute bonding moment, and this request kinda reminded me of that!! gonna try to channel it a little bit

this idea is literally so cute and I'd be happy to write it! it makes my brain like a cat who has the zoomies hehe enjoy :D

How Ironic

You watched agonizingly as the clock ticked by even slower than usual. You'd been trying to do some sort of work, or anything other than stare at the damned clock forever now, but you just couldn't focus.

It had been exactly four days, six hours, and fifteen minutes and counting since Mammon had left for a week long promotional photoshoot in another ring of hell. You had your sad, but sweet send off and you promise yourself that time apart might be good for you. After all, it always felt like you could never get anything done with Mammon around. Yet, here you were, staring blankly at a clock with a blank piece of paper and pen in front of you.

Finally deciding to throw in the towel for now, you got up from your desk in your room. A walk to a local convivence store was in order. Snacks and fresh air wasn't a combo you could pass up. On your way out, you passed the door to his room which was slightly ajar. You briefly had the thought to poke your head in and ask him if he wanted to come, before remembering that he wouldn't be in there. You continued your walk to the front door, where you put on your shoes and grabbed a bag that had a few necessities in it for the short journey.

Thankfully, you hadn't passed any of his brothers on the way there, meaning you didn't have to explain yourself or have them ask to tag along. While you enjoyed their company, they weren't Mammon. If you needed help, you could always summon one of them thanks to the pacts, but you needed this short walk to clear your head.

The air was unfortunately stifling and overly humid outside, making you glad you were dressed light. It was basically just your pajamas but when you went out with Mammon, the two of you did this every time. As you autopiloted to your favorite corner store, your thoughts wandered back to Mammon again. You wondered how he was doing and if he missed being at home. You couldn't blame him if he didn't and hoped he was enjoying his time away from home as much as you wished he was by your side.

Once you got to the store, you wandered around for a bit, debating what to get. After grabbing a small basket, you began to pile in various things that sounded good. Once the basket was full, you came to the realization that all the snacks were Mammon's favorites; hell sauce flavored instant noodles, Chaos Devil Cider and ginger ale to mix, Devilbee honey popcorn, and a variety pack of Devildom gummies. This is what he introduced you to the first time you did a snack run together. You decided, in light of this discovery, to buy extras for him for when he got back. You figured he would enjoy it and it was the least you could do to thank him for introducing you to so many tasty things you would've not tried otherwise. Once you checked out, you returned back to the House of Lamentation with a new skip in your step.

You made your way back up to your room, and passed the ajar door of Mammon's room again. Memories of the two of you together flooded back again, and you couldn't help but step in. Just being in his room was like he was really right next to you again. You couldn't help but sit on his sofa and think about how much you missed him even though it hadn't even been a full week. His absence made you realize how much you missed his presence. After a moment, you decide to leave the snacks you bought for him on his bedside table so his brothers were less likely to wander in and find them before him.

As you were setting down everything you'd gotten for him, you something caught your eye just about to fall off the end of his bed. After you picked it off the edge of his bed, you realized it was the hoodie he always wore around the house. It was faded from lots of usage and the strings were fraying. You knew it smelt like his cologne and his shampoo from all of the tight embraces he'd given you while wearing it. You for sure thought he would've taken it with him, but it looked as if he had thrown it off last minute and thrown it on his bed without looking back.

Looking around as if someone might be watching (which could very well be the case since Lucifer was notoriously quiet), you pulled it to your chest and deeply inhaled. Of course, there was the chance that it was dirty, but you couldn't care less. It wasn't anything you hadn't seen of him before. Since there really wasn't anything stopping you, you took it back to your room with you. You weren't even really that cold, in all honesty. It was more of the idea that he was right next to you since it smelt just like him.

You continued your night like you had before you left, just with his hoodie on. You were magically much more productive wearing it and you managed to get several things done. Usually, you would be chatting with Mammon on the phone at about this time to talk about how your days were, but he was unfortunately busy with something work related. Instead, you decided to send him a sweet goodnight text and send a picture of your set up with the food and the show you've been watching one episode at a time. Not expecting a response before you called it a night, you turn your phone off and focused on eating and watching tv.

Beel wasn't sure what woke him up first: his stomach or Mammon blowing up his phone. Sitting up in his bed, he peered at his screen, squinting at it. He had at least twenty texts from his brother asking him to check on Mc for him after they hadn't responded to his texts. He wasn't sure if Mammon knew they were probably asleep or if he was just worrying for no reason. Either way, he decided to check on them for him anways. After his kitchen run, of course.

After letting Mammon know, he got out of bed and left his room. On his way to the kitchen, however, he ended up following the smell of cup noodles to Mc's room. There, he was able to complete both of his missions. He snapped a picture of Mc fast asleep with a couple half finished snacks, then took the snacks. Mission complete.

Mammon was only halfway through the only kind of dumb business dinner when he spammed Beel about Mc. He was more worried than he would admit to himself about them. He knew it was probably nothing and that they had fallen asleep, but Beel was usually awake at this time eating anyways. The food was nice and he was the star of the show, but the dinner was much too stifling for his taste. Most importantly, it was cutting into his precious time with Mc, something he looked forward to at the end of every day. He loved getting to hear their voice after being away from them for so long. He missed getting to see them in person, but getting to hear them was next best.

As he was poking at his food, he finally got the response he was waiting hand and foot on. Beel had responded with just an image at first, so he scrambled to open it. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was a picture of his beloved Mc fast asleep in their bed. You looked so peaceful but your face was barely visible because of the hood pulled up over your eyes. After squinting, he realized the hoodie you were wearing looked oddly familiar. He realized that that was his hoodie, the one he'd left on his bed when he was late the morning he left.

He could barely contain his excitement and it must had been evident on his face since those around him glanced at him, and then between each other a few times. He saved the photo to his phone, and texted Beel back a thanks. As everyone talked around him, he debating asking to leave the shoot early right then and there. If he left right now, he would be able to make it home before you woke up. While he entertained this thought for a while, eventually he decided to stick it out since there were only a few days left. As soon as he was allowed to leave, however, he would buy you something with the paycheck he'd be given. Something nice, maybe a gold bracelet that would remind you of him when you see it. He spent the rest of the night thinking, then dreaming about you. He could only hope you were doing the same. (you were <3)

After those final two and a half agonizing days and many texts later, it was finally time for Mammon to return home. For now, he decided to leave his car parked just outside the house, since he may or may not have been planning to take you out to dinner later that day. As soon as he walked in the door, one of his suitcases in tow, something, or rather someone, attacked him with a flying hug. At first, he was processing the situation as Mc began to squeal and squeeze him as tight as they could into a hug. He wasn't really sure where they had come from, but he knew who it was as soon as their arms were around him.

"MAMMON!" Mc swung the both of them around, buzzing with excitement. "Diavolo, I missed you so much. I don't want to let go of you. If you don't take me with you next time, I might die of sadness and loneliness!" Their arms were around his neck, and their face in his chest. He finally let go of his suitcase and hugged them back. He held them close, shutting his eyes for a moment to take it all in.

"I missed ya too. 's good to be back." He, again, couldn't stop the smile from growing on his face. His brothers never expressed themselves the way Mc was to him in that moment, so he wasn't quite sure how to feel. They never seemed excited to see him, so it was so refreshing to see Mc visibly excited and made him feel truly loved. All their time apart was worth moments like these.

As MC was squealing, a few of his brothers began to gather around the foyer around them. Perhaps they heard them, or maybe they knew he'd be back today at around this time. Either way, he waved at them, still keeping an arm around Mc.

"Guys! Mammon is back." Mc nuzzled his neck, still holding onto him.

"We can see that." Belphie remarked, sounding unamused. Mammon's smile faded a little. So, they didn't care that he was back, did they? He should've expected that from them. Actually, they probably wished he'd been gone for longer with the way they treated him sometimes.

"I talked to you guys about this. I don't expect you to do what I'm doing, but you need to show him you're happy he's back. You can't lie, he's irreplaceable! I don't know what I'd do without him, and I missed him so much." Just like that, Mc's words lifted him back up. Suddenly, he was no longer upset that his brothers didn't care. He had the attention and care from the person he thought about the entire time he was gone. "Shame on you all. Don't expect me to talk to you for the next few days. Let's get your things from the car, and go upstairs. We have so much to catch up on!" Mc only let go of his neck to grab his hand instead. They dragged him back out of the house, shutting the door with their foot behind the two of them.

"Mc, ya didn't have to do all that fer me..." Mammon glanced back at the shut door. His brothers didn't open it, or try to follow them.

"But I did! You're my first man, after all. I really can't express how much I missed you and just saying it doesn't feel like enough." They reached into the trunk of his car to begin taking out his suitcases. Mammon moved them aside gently, not wanting them to do even more for him that he felt as if he didn't deserve.

Mammon was silent for a moment, then decided to go digging through his backpack for the bracelet he'd bought for you. He hoped it would make it easier to tell you how he felt. "Here, this is fer you." He presented the small, black box to them. Looking caught off guard, they accepted it and opened it carefully. Your mouth dropped open as you saw the golden piece of jewelry he bought for you on the drive back.

"Mammon! This is beautiful. Thank you so much! But, I don't understand why. What's the occasion?" You removed it from the box and held it up to the light to study it. Several small charms hung off of it.

"That's the thing. There isn't one." He took a deep breath and looked down at his feet before continuing. "I just... yer so good to me. Ya texted me daily, called me daily, thought about me while I was gone, and even waited fer me like that so ya could surprise me when I got back. Ya care, and I know I'm not the best with showin' I care and it makes me feel shitty. Thank you, fer everythin'. I really missed ya." He couldn't see how Mc reacted, but was essentially tackled into another hug again by them.

"Mams, you show me you care in little ways. Just because you don't say it, doesn't mean that you don't. You just being back here with me is more than enough." He immediately thought about how ironic the entire situation was. He never actually told them how he felt and treated them like garbage sometimes, and he thought it might've been pushing the person he cared for most away, but really, he never had to worry about that. he'd never considered that they could see past his inability to admit his feelings. He hugged them back, savoring the moment since this time they were alone.

"Thank you Mc." He held back happy tears.

"No, thank you! Thank you for always being by my side. Now, instead of actually unpacking, let's just lock the car and sneak back inside. Maybe they'll eventually feel sorry and come looking for us, but we'll actually be hiding right under their noses. It'll be like a spy mission." Mc giggled leaning back to see his face. Mammon let them look him in the eyes, glistening tears and all.

"Yeah, let's do that. We can watch that movie ya wanted to watch and just share headphones." He found himself joining in with the quiet laughing along to something he wasn't sure either of them really understood. Something he did understand however, was that he knew he was loved back by the one he loved the most, and couldn't ask for more.

#almost published this unfinished and with all the notes I leave to myself #wouldve been so embarrased #if i have a million ideas but no time i just kinda word vomit it all out so later me can use the ideas in the way now me intended #and so i don't forget lol #i'm very forgetful lol #hug deprived anon! #obey me #obey me! #obey me x reader #obey me beel #obey me mammon #grr had a whole battle with the divider the entire time I wrote #not proofread lol #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me mc

[spider-man-199999]

Paris to Tokyo

pairing: college!Peter Parker x Reader: 18+; academic rivals to lovers

word count: 5K

warnings: smut; slight angst; unpotected sex

summary: You start your new life at college, expecting it to be the most exciting time of your life, only to be met with Peter Parker, who decided to dedicate his free time to making your life a living hell

a/n: I've been dying to write an enemies to lovers type of fic, it's also my first time writing anything with suggestive content in it, so bear with me please. The heading is the most random thing I could come up with I'm sorry

College was the place you were looking forward to the most since you graduated high school. It was supposed to be a place where you met people with similar interest, went out with them to have fun and engage in intellectual converstaions. And it was exactly like that, for the most part. Growing up as a natuarally intelligent kid had you been putting little to no effort in school and always got you good grades. This quickly escalated into you trying a bit harder with each test and striving for more academic validation. At some point you even managed to become the best student in your class. But sitting hours on end on a desk and studying was still something very foreign to you. Sure, you would revise from time to time on topics that were harder to remember or things you couldn't recall from class, but it never went further than that. And maybe a degree in Biophysic was not the wisest idea given that backgroung. So, when college came around and you started the new classes on topics your common knowledge could barely help you keep up with, things went downhill very fast. For the first time you were faced with faliure, hard work and putting hours on end to study. It felt like everyone around you was more knowledgeable, more prepared, more educated on literally any topic that was discussed in and outside of class. Being at the bottom of the academic foodchain was mildy infuriating, to say the least.

And after the first few months of sleepless nights, filling up all of the holes so you could catch up to speed, you finally did it, and it felt more rewarding than anything else. This assisted you into making casual conversations with so many people from your different classes, one of them even inviting you to a study group that had been going on for months. You happily agreed to that idea, thinking it would be the best way to keep up with everyone in the class, not only academically but socically as well.

The day of the study group finally arrived on what seemed like the most normal, yet the most exciting Tuesday. They added you to a groupchat, everyone texting back and forth until all of you had agreed to go grab a coffee before heading to the library. You had tried your best to look presentable for this study date, putting on some white wide-leg dress pants and a neat navy blue t-shit that hugged your body very well. You hair was in a sleek bun, having a white buttonup because the weather was slightly chilly. Almost everyone had arrived there on time, which took you by surprise since you were used to being the only one being on time. After the cheerful greeting and formally learning everyone's names, you went inside and grabbed a coffee, returning to them promptly. You stood by the door, since the group had formed a circle around the entrance of the small shop.

"Was I the last one?" You asked concerned, looking around and counting the people.

"Actually, we're waiting for Peter" Someone said, everyone giggling softly and shaking their head.

"Who's Peter?" You asked, and as soon as you did, you felt something push againt your shoulder, sending you a step forward so you wouldn't come crashing down from losing your balance.

"I'M SO SORRY" you heard from behind you, turning around to see a boy with a worried expression on his face, paper cup in his hand. He was handsome, hair pushed back, warm eyes and nervous smile, leather jacked over a black t-shirt.

"That's Peter" someone stated, pulling you out of your trance. Peter chuckled, moving past you and motioning for everyone to go, since he was the one you all had been waiting for.

On the walk there you kept staring at the back of Peter's head, annoyed that he pushed you with the door, frusrated because he didn't even bother to introduce himself to you. Not that he really had to, you already knew well enough who he was. The guy who always came in rushing because he was late, somehow still managed to sit directly in front of you, blocking your view, no matter where you sat. He was the guy that would beat you to every question, the one who would always have the best grade on the tests. He leaned way too back in his seat, back pressed to your desk, pushing it, as you would try to keep up with writing everything down. And he would always ask you for a pen, every single time.

The study room was spacious and bright, it had a big round table for everyone to sit at, as well as two whiteboards and plenty or outlests for chargers and what not. It looked like the perfect place to study with a large group, excluding the fact Peter was there as well. You all took random seats around the table, Parker sitting across from you, almost as if it were on purpose. You held back an eye roll when he smiled at you cockily, making you look away and take out your laptop and notebook from your bag. The screen managed to block out most of Peter's face if you sink into your seat low enough. The conversation in the room flowed naturally, it was so interesting and engaging and you were having a blast speaking to these people. Soon enough all of you had solved the first homework questions, you quickly grabbing a pen and writing it down in your notebook. As you were in the middle of writing, an outside force closed your laptop. Your eyes looked at the laptop, seeing a pale male hand, fingers spread. You stared at it for a few seconds, noticing how pretty the hand actually was, long and straight fingers, follwed by a slim wrist and a muscular forearm. Your gaze trailed the hand up to Peter's face, looking into his eyes with annoyance already.

"Hey, do you-" before he even managed to finished his sentence, you had taken out a pen from your pencil case and placed it on your laptop, next to his hand.

"Thank you" he muttered, you not even looking back at him. This routine, as much as it was annoying, gave you some kind of comfort as well.

"How come you never have a pen with you?" You asked after a while, your curiosity getting the better of you.

"Oh, well actually I do have one, it's easier to just use yours"

''Unbelieveble"

"Come on, like you would ever need a second pen for anything"

You hovered over the table and grabbed the pen from his hand in a swift motion, he looked a bit taken a back, as well as the few people following your interaction.

"Actually, I need it now" you said, putting the one you were using away and continuing your writing with the one you just got back from him.

"You're being unbelieveble now" He said slightly irritated, reaching to get his won pen from his backpack.

"The two of you, cut it out, you're acting like children!" someone shushed you, making you blush when you realised it wasn't just you and the curly-haired boy in the room.

You gulped softly, mummbling a sorry to everyone as you kept writing down.

"Us cut it out? She was the one acting like a child, making a big deal out of a pen!" Peter whined and complained, starting to write down things in his notebook after he got a few angry glares from other people.

Around the time the group got to the third and final question for the homework you were feeling confident enough to try to contribute to the assignment.

"So you're basically saying that principle of hemodialysis is the same as other methods of dialysis - it involves diffusion of solutes across a semipermeable membrane?" you asked, as you were brainstorming through the question.

"Oh come on, y/n, this is the easiest question so far!'' Peter said, leaning froward, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Ever since the pen situation, he's been worse than ever before, taking every opportunity to show of how much smarter he was, followed by a cocky smirk.

"Intermittent dialysis therapy is used in chronic uremia to re-establish body water solute concentrations that cannot be achieved by the natural organ. In this sense, the dialyzer becomes an artificial kidney and it is through the transport of substances by this device that chemical and biophysical control consistent with continued survival is achieved." He explained, solving the question for you.

"She had it figured out, you could have let her be" Someone you didn't remember the name of said to him, making Peter's head turn in that direction.

"She obviously didn't, keep in mind her highest grade is my lowest" He snapped back.

You could feel the tension in the atmosphere thicken with each second, things were about to escalate very quickly. His words stung a bit and you felt something like a ball stuck in your throat after he said them. He didn't know how much work you had put in and he was incosiderate enough to just assume the worst of you. Before things managed to get any further, or worse, out of control, you slammed your thick notebook shut.

"Since Peter was kind enough to solve the last question, I think I'm going to call it a night" you said, fighting back the tears. Your voice gave you away as it wa slightly shaky, earning a few sympatheric looks.

You shoved your things in the bag as quickly as you as possible and walked out, trying to get as far away as possible. You were trying not to break down the whole walk back to your dorm, bitting your lip, brushing away some stray tears that ran down your cheeks with your sleeve. You were mentally blaming yourself for everything, for not walking fast enough, for not knowing enough, for deciding to join the study group, for even deciding on this degree to begin with. By the time you made it to your room, your phone was already blown up by text messages from Natalie, the person who originally invited you. She was a small blonde, blue-eyed beauty that was just as smart as she was pretty. You could bet on your own life that she was class president and the prom queen in high school. She was more than kind to you this whole time and her text messages suggested that she was worried about you too. With a quick click you deleted all the messages from your notification centre and threw the phone on your bed, followed by your bag. Hot tears ran down your face, breathing heavily as you were preactically sobbing at this point. You sat down on the floor, not being able to hold in the frustrstion anymore as you finally broke down, letting all of the shame, pain and anger flow out of your system through your tears.

A couple of hours had gone by, your tears were dried up on your face and neck as you lay on the floor and stared at the ceiling. Your phone kept buzzing from time to time and you finally gathered the emotional strenght to reply to the messages. Sitting on the bed, you unlocked the device and scrolled through the unred chats. The groupchat had sent the written solutions for the questions. Natalie had probably sent you 20 messages apologising and asking if you were okay. The guy who defended you had also sent you a message. His name was Brad and he looked like any normal person did. You texted him first, thanking him for standing up for you even though he did not need to do that. After him it was Natalie, who called you immediately after you hit send to reply to her first message. You picked up hesitantly, since you knew your voice was definitely going to sound like you had been crying.

"I am so sorry for everything! If I knew you and Peter were on bad terms I wouldn't have done this to you" She immediately spat out

"It's okay, I we aren't on bad terms, well... weren't"

"Have you been crying?"

"No..."

"I'm really sorry! I spoke to him after the whole thing, he's usually nothing like this! He himself couldn't explain why he acted like this"

"Nat, I really, really don't care"

"He said he wanted to make it up to you! He asked me himself for your number and your dorm room!"

"Please tell me you didn't give him any of that information"

"Well..."

"Oh my god now he knows where I live" you whined, bringing your knees up to your chest and hugging them.

"He wanted to apologise! He looked very sincere and worried"

"Yes, all the psychopaths do, that's why they're so hard to recognize!"

"I'm sure he wouldn't just show up at your door trying to make amends, you'll be fine, plus he's a really cool dude, give him a chance to prove he's not an asshole"

"He had his chance, it was today"

After you two said your goodbyes and hung up, you deicided it was finally time to take a relaxing shower. As you walked out, you heard a knock on your door. Still wrapped in a towel, one hand holding it in place, you opened the door to a Peter Parker, leaning on the doorframe. You blinked a few times rapidly, trying to process what you were seeing.

"Why are you here?" You asked, after carefully calculating your tone and your words

"You weren't picking up your phone" he replied, trying to step a foot inside. You blocked his action with the door.

"I didn't say you could come in"

"Can I come in then?"

"No, good night Parker" With that you tried closing the door on him but he grabbed it, not letting you close it.

"Look, I'm here to apologise for what I said earlier. You don't have to forgive me"

"And I don't, go Peter"

He looked shatter at your words looking into his brown eyes, you almost felt sympathy for him, like he really did feel sorry about what he did. Despite that, you kept your composure, looking at him with all the resentmet you had for him, a sigh leaving his lips as he let go of the door. He didn't need superpowers to know he fucked up, so he left. And you on the other hand, were more devistated than before, but your ego was bruised and your self-esteem ruined. The only person, no matter how annoying, you didn't want to think less of you, thought less of you. Yes, it was good that he wanted to apologise but this was not going to undo his words and the image he obviously had. You didn't even know if the apology really was his idea or was forced on him by the others in the group. You shook you head, dismissing the thoughts as you got ready to sleep. Sleep always helped with heavy emotions and you hoped you would feel better in the morning.

A few weeks went by and you still refused to forgive Peter for what he said. In your heart, you knew he was really sorry at this point but you enjoyed his suffering as you roasted him slowly on low heat. He tried all the cliché ways, buying flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals, buying you coffee before every study date. Your neighbours were convinced that the two of you were dating and would always ask about him when you gathered in one of the rooms to eat together or drink. You denied that but they rolled their eyes and never believed. In the mean time Brad tried to get closer to you, even inviting you on a date. You accepted hesitantly, since your heart seemed to be someplace else, liking all of the effort and attention from Parker more than it should. You told Natalie about the date, the two of you had become very close, spending a lot of time together, which often resulted in Brad and Peter tagging along. To say the boys were not getting along would be an understatement. Eyes throwing daggers at each other with every glance, snarky, rude comments were exchanged back and forth. But when you told the pretty blonde about Brad, she was more than excited about it finally happening . She would go on and on about how she knew he liked you ever since the first study session you had together and how he had a very heated fight with Peter after you left. You were grateful for him and what he did, and somehow it still felt wrong to be going out with him.

The night of the date had arrived and you were almost ready, putting in your earrings as you heard a knock on your door. You took a quick look in the full lenght mirror, fixing the long black dress you were wearing. It had a long slit on the left side, exposing your leg, no sleeves and a turtle neck. You had tied your hair in a ponytail, so your light make up would be more visible in the muffled evening lights of wherever he was planning to take you. You opened the door, still not wearing your chunky leather boots but just stockings.

"I thought we were going to meet in front of the library" you said as you opened the door but to your sursprise, someone else was standing there.

"You're not going on that date" Peter said firmly, almost as a command

"You're the last person that's going to tell me what to do" You snapped back at him "Why are you here Parker?"

He walked inside, closing the door behind himself. Peter seemed slightly distressed, looking you up and down with a dark expression.

"Do you really hate me that much?" he asked, leaning his back against the door, his arms behind him as he looked down at his feet. "Or do you just want to hurt me by going out with the guy I like least? Like really? All the guys are in your feet and you decide to go out with Brad, and look as gorgeous as this."

You could hear the annoyance and sadness in his voice, a bit taken a back from all of the things he just said to you. He just loved doing that, didn't he? Saying the most obnoxious things to make you feel bad about yourself.

"Wait, what?" was all you managed to say, taking a few steps back until your butt pressed agains your desk, making you stop. Books and make up palletes were scattred on it. Peter looked up at you, smiling weakly.

"I've liked you, this whole time" he confessed, staring directly into your eyes "Please, don't go on that date"

"Make me" you said faintly, surprised by how you almost whispered it. There was no way he could have heard that. But somehow he did, taking a few rapid steps towards and wrapping an arm around your waist.

"I'll make you forget everyone else but me" he whispered in your ear.

Feeling his hot breath near your face made your heart beat faster, one of your hands resting against his upper arm, looking up into his eyes. You were having a hard time processing what was actually happening, a sudden fear it was one of his games to make fun of you. You tried pushing him away after the realization, but his grip on your waist tightened.

"I'm serious, y/n" he said "I've liked you since I saw you, and I would make everyone sit away from you so I could be near, I would ask you for a pen so I could talk to you. And I tried to show off because I wanted to impress you, I wanted you to think I'm smarter so you could ask me for help in class."

For some reason you believed him, nodding lightly to let him know that. He lifted you up with one arm, sitting you on top of the desk. You were having a hard time vocalizing what you were feeling but you didn't want him to feel awkward because of your silence. Your arms wrapped around his neck, his hand falling on your exposed leg. You looked down at where his hand was, your skin burning with desire to be touched by him more. Your eyes met his again, his filled with hopefullness and lust. He got closer, titling his head to the side and he kissed you softly and sweetly. You returned the kiss, hands cupping his face and bringing him closer to you. Peter deepened the kiss, turning it in a heated make out session as one of his hands romed around your leg, going up your dress so he could touch more of you and the other one placed on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. You spread your legs, pulling him by the belt so he could position himself between them, your hands going to his hair and playing with his messy curls as your lips and tongues danced against each other. After what seemed like a forever of heated, hungry kisses and filty touching, you broke the kiss so you could catch your breath. You panted havily, chest rising up and down rapidly. Peter pressed his forehead against yours, both of you closing your eyes to collect yourselves.

"Should I at lest text Brad and tell him I'm not going?"

"Well, there goes my hard on"

You hit his chest lightly, both of you giggling at his stupid joke. He looked around, noticing your phone that was charging on the bed, moving away from you to grab it and hand it to you. You unlocked the phone trying to find your chat with Brad while Peter found his previous position, viciously attacking your jaw and neck with kisses. You tried your best to be concentrated and write a normal message, but made a few spelling mistakes nonetheless. Peter nibbled on your neck, which earned him a slight flinch from your side.

“Peter, please, we’re not 16, no hikeys”

He ignored your words, continuing his act the way he had planned it, kissing, licking and sucking on your soft skin while you begged him to stop. His hands were all over your body once again, touching everything that was exposed to him, one hand travelling further up your leg than before, almost landing on your ass but hesitantly stopping. You noticed his uncertainly, pressing your cheek against his so you could whisper in his ear.

“Don’t stop now, Peter” you breathed in his ear, your own hands exploring his body.

He didn’t waste a second after that, grabbing your butt in his hand and pressing his lips against yours. Your hands moved under his shirt, touching his toned stomach. Your were quite shocked to what your fingertips were pressed up against, not expecting him to be as muscular as he actually was. You knew he worked out because you had seen his toned arms in a t-shirt too many times for your own good, but you were definitely not expecting that. Hands quickly slipped him out of his jacket, reaching to pull up his shirt in the heat of the moment but he stopped you, moving slightly away. Your lipstick was smudged all over his mouth and it made you giggle.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked you, his hands finding their way back to your waist. You nodded, undeniably longing for him and his touch, his presence.

“Good, because if we keep this up any longer, I probably won’t be able to hold back” Peter muttered, removing his shirt and tossing it on the floor before he pulled you in again, kissing you.

You took that as a signal that you had to get undressed as well, reaching for the hem of your dress pulling it up. He grabbed your hands when he noticed the act, stopping you from doing what you had planned so he could do it himself. Suddenly you felt the cold air from the room against your skin, along with Peter's warm hands, making you shiver. You undid his belt, helping him pull his pants down, breaking your kiss in the process. You laughed soflty at how he was jumping on one leg while he was trying to kick his pants off, shaking your head.

"What?" He asked

"Nothing, nothing, I'm really missing a date right now for you jumping on one leg to get out of your pants" you bursted out laughing, him joining you shortly after.

"No, it's going to get so much better, trust me" He stated, grabbing you and lifting you up, throwing you on the bed. You squeaked softly from his actions, not expecting it. Soon enough he had your hands pinned down with his, hovering over you. A soft gulp at the sight from you made him chuckle, kissing on your neck once again. He had already left a mark there, starting to suck on a second spot next it.

"Peter really! It's going to be so hard to cover them up" you whined, secretly enjoying his lips and teeth on your skin like this.

He looked at your face, smiling viciously at you.

"I just want people to know you had a good time"

"Yeah, with Brad? I was suppsed to be on a date with him" you teased him, chuckling softly. His expression changed suddenly, he seemed almost angry. His hands let go of your wrists, travelling down your skin as he reached the hem of your panties. His fingers played with the hem of them before slipping in under the thin fabric, the middle finger going between your folds. He could feel how wet you actually were, making him smirk with that cocky smile he had, looking into your eyes. You were holding back a small moan from his touch, looking at his pretty face.

"Can Brad make you this wet baby?" He asked.

You shook your head no, keeping eye contact with him. His middle finger started moving up and down tesing your clit before entering you slowly. This time you couldn't hold back and you moaned, closing your eyes. His smile remained present as he insedted a second finger inside of you, starting to move his hand teasingly slow. Your body squirming underneath him, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, rocking his hips against your leg while he fingered you. You could feel his erection through his boxers, making you even more needy than you already were.

"Parker" you moaned out softly, remembering your hands were actually free and you could move them, immediately attaching to his shoulders, which was the closest body part besides his head. He looked up at you after you called out for him, grabbing your face with his hand and kissing you.

"Peter" you moaned again against his lips, feeling his skin shiver from that. I never considered what effect you actually had on him. "Please, I want to feel you."

After you begged him, he wasted no time pulling your panties down, unressing himself as well. His arms spread your legs forcefully, positioning himself between them. You didn't really manage to follow everything he was doing because you were too eager yourself, pushing up against him in hopes to speed up the process. He pinned you down by the waist, shaking his head in disapproval at your actions. Peter didn't like it when you disobeyed him, even though it was the only thing you were good at doing. He lined himself up to you, teasing you lightly with his tip as a warning before he inserter himself inside, both of you moaning from the act. You felt something like actual electricity when he did that, making you breath heavy from the ecstacy. His hips moved rythmically, along with yours. He was still holding you by the waist, standing on his knees while he fucked into you. You moved your leg up on his shoulder, making him smile and kiss it, one of his hands running up and down it while both of you looked into echother's eyes. You enjoyed the view, so much, his naked toned body, his messy hair, that gorgeous face, your leg on his shoulder while he moved. It was hypnotysing, breathtaking, made your legs shake alone. He could feel you tighthen up around him, making him laugh softly.

"So soon?" he asked, noticing how you started squrming more than in the beginning, legs shaking from time to time, moans becoming more freaquent

"Peter, I'm really close" you managed to say, hands gripping on the sheets around you. His grip on your waist taightened as he went faster and deeper, making you whines more prominent than before. You walls started clenching around him, feeling yourself already starting to cum on him. He placed a hand on your lower stomach, applying slight pressure on it which really sent you over the edge, whole body shaking, heavy breathing and moaning uncontrolablly. He had to hold you down while you came, leaning forward and pecking your lips after you calmed down.

"I need a moment too" he whispered against your lips "Can you handle it for me?"

You nodded, letting him continue rocking his hips into you. You were covered in sweat and so was he, bodies pressed against eachother as he moaned softly in your ear, your legs wrapped around his waist to stop the shaking from the overstimulation.

"Peter" you mumbled against his ear ''I think you're really hot... like, way hotter than I expected''

"Fuck" he replied, pulling out of you and stroking his lenght a few times before he came on your stomach, both of you panting. He lay down next to you for a second, kissing your forehead and hugging you.

"You did so well" he praised you, starting to leave small butterfly kisses all over your face. You laughed softly, cuddling into him.

"We should go take a shower"

"Are you suggesting a second round in your shower?"

"No! Well... maybe, okay, yes"

He laughed at your reply, shaking his head.

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[bbanghiitomi]

| your dreams are mine

synopsis: after graduating, you land your first job at a company and end up working with kim minji; the company's renowned grumpy, quiet, and mysterious senior.

—nonidol!senior!kminji × nonidol!junior!fem!reader

(⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡(⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡(⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)��.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡(⁠*⁠˘⁠︶

minji feels her fingers stiff as she pulls her hands away from the keyboard, minji groans and tries to stretch the bones in her fingers by moving but immediately feeling how frozen the tips of her fingers are. maybe it's the cold air of the office cubicle? could it be the hard surface of her table? or the stiff, old, and small keyboard? minji does not know anymore, she's been sitting on the swivel chair for so long that she doesn't realize how late it has been. the muscles in her buttocks are hurt, almost to the point she can't feel them anymore. minji's sat for so long that her calves are practically begging to be moved, her forearms are screaming for some rest.

it's been so long since the last time minji actually felt happy, where she felt like she's free. hell, minji doesn't even remember the last time she held a book in her hands, she never got the time to do something she actually loved after she had this horrible job of hers.

4 years ago, minji is a fresh graduate from college, free from the stress of university. the first thing she did was have fun and it lasted for a few months only before she had to find a job and eventually landed herself in a pretty decent company with a decent pay. everything was going well the first few weeks, everyone was nice to her, they're all smiling, it felt like minji actually found the place she really was meant for.

but oh was she very wrong, after a month everything started going downhill. her boss started to actually be a boss, everyone is stressed and are always frowning — people actually started seeing her as a kid and not an adult. and starting from that point, nothing ever mattered to minji other than finishing stuff and just going home.

her life revolved around waking up, taking a shower, breakfast, work for who knows how long? then home, less than 4 hours of sleep, then the same shit. again and again.

it's not like she was ever happy doing this, minji had always dreamt of being an author, writing a book and publishing one some day. minji is typing but instead of her thoughts, it's loads of emails and crap for her company. at this point, minji had never hoped she'd ever find herself again, maybe never? it's just later or never at all.

whenever minji finishes stacks of papers, tabs of report, analysis of data — she doesn't feel relief anymore, all she knows is she's going to do the same shit over and over again next time. company trips don't excite her, none of her coworkers are friends with her, and she refuses to make one. it's like living hell through the present. the time feels like a loop of the same things, she's always in the same space at the same time. spatiotemporally continuous lineages of the same events, the same expressions of bitterness shared by the employees and the same curses she mutters everytime she fucks up.

minji never had the time to even go on a date or dinner with someone, never had the time to be in a relationship, not even hang out with friends. it's like she's tied to the computer inside her cubicle, she's got no reason to escape the trap that is the working space. every night, minji grabs the chance to curse the world for how cruel it is, not having any reason to actually live like a human anymore.

"excited for ai, those scums are probably going to replace us anytime soon. great." as minji stands up to grab her flask and get a good amount of water, she hears her coworker in the other cubicle say. ignoring him, minji grabs a glass on the counter and fills it up with fresh, cold water — chugging it down almost immediately.

"oh for fuck sake, with how shit this work is, i doubt even a robot would last under all this pressure. probably would explode after an 18 hour shift." one coworker butts in, minji hears a few chuckles but still was uninterested and went inside her cubicle once again with her flask and sat back on her swivel chair with a sharp groan.

minji takes a few minutes trying to regain herself back and her consciousness by swiveling her chair a little, cracking the bones on her hands before starting to type away the rest of the papers she needs to print by the end of the day. it's only 6pm, which means she still has a few hours left before the end of her shift and it's probably a nightmare on her way back home too.

"the only bad side of having artificial intelligence replacing us is that we won't have anything to get money from. but other than that it's solid, we're treated like robots anyway, so what would be the difference?" the first guy chuckles, minji blinks her eyes and hears the ticking of her clock.

her eyes are once again glued to the screen, scanning every word she's typing on the paper, looking for any mistakes or errors before continuing. she's conditioned to do this and we'll be continued to keep doing it after a few more years, which should be equivalent to a tremendous hours of torture.

the office is once again quiet but loud at the same time, minji can hear the mixture of her clock's ticking, the sound of the air condition, the tapping of keyboards scratching the ridges of her brain and footsteps from other employees walking around.

it feels like they are in a jail, everything is dull and lifeless, with the brightest color being the lights and the white walls — everything else is dead.

everyone in the office feels like they have no personality other than the work they're doing, it sucks and they're no fun at all.

"everyone, listen! attention all on me!" the boss shouts, his voice echoing around the walls of the hell also known as their office. everyone turns their head, or stands up to see him — whilst minji just stops from what she's doing.

the boss clears his throat and speaks. "starting tomorrow, we will have a newest addition to the office working with us. aren't you all excited? she's a fresh graduate too, working under the graphics office. i hope you all welcome her with the warmest greetings." he stops abruptly, looking around the office before continuing.

"and may i remind you of all the papers needed today, if there are missing papers i will make sure that lazy idiot gets fired. understood?" he does not ask, more like demands with his stone hard tone and his killer glare. everyone mutters their reluctant agreement before heading back to what they were once doing again.

minji sighs and runs her luscious hair back, furrowing her thick brows in frustration.

another addition to this hell of a place, isn't that great?

everytime minji thinks about it, there's just nothing positive about another annoying figure inside the office who knows nothing. it''s sad that the poor girl might just end up getting her dreams crushed too.

but minji doesn't really care, does she?

of course not, at least that's what minji thinks.

on the way home, her brain is plagued by thoughts of the new addition. a girl, a new graduate too — great, how lucky the graphics office really are. it's safe to assume that she's no different to minji, just like every other girl. she must be someone enthusiastic to start a new journey — maybe one that isn't so good.

whilst minji watches the buildings from afar inside the bustling train, she thinks whether she should care enough and be that good senior, warning the younger girl to stay out and live a life somewhere else except this cruel city they call seoul.

ironic, for it's name — everyone seemed to have none of that soul, just a body without a clear purpose in this world.

why is minji even like this?

minji asks herself that question almost everyday.

when she arrives in front of the apartment complex she stays in, she lets out a small sigh, not even looking forward to her sleep as it just welcomes another day of suffering. minji steps a foot in the comfort of her home, pushing her shoes off and making her way inside the corridor to her bed when she laid and curled into a ball.

minji doesn't even know why she's so caught up, there's no reason for her to be feeling like this over some girl she doesn't even know — why is she so worried?

she hasn't spoken a word today, and maybe not tomorrow too.

it's best to just be quiet and keep things to herself.

that's how her life has been.

it's lonely inside an empty home,

not even her presence can fill the spaces.

maybe it's time for her to make a room,

inside her heart.

so someone can give her that emotion she's been lacking for so long.

and the night's so cold too, that the breeze of the cold air is embracing her just like it did in her office.

the next morning, minji finds herself partaking in the same routine once again. although it's tiring, there was no space for changes — no time for such commitments.

"loneliness is the capacity to love."

"that space left by loneliness can be filled by someone you will love. it's time to open that heart of yours."

minji scoffs when she reaches for the remote and turns the television off.

always the same bullshit, there's always a time when some kind of thing reminds her she's lonely, in need of help.

transcendence, they say, is when you overcome a challenge.

how will she achieve transcendence when factors of challenges find their way back to her, every single time?

vulnerability, loneliness, love, and it keeps going.

she wonders if her other self in the other universe goes through the same problems as she does in the current one.

to the office, she's locked inside her cubicle, stuck in her own world of emails and statistics. it's quite impressive how minji still has a great vision even after burying herself in loads of work, eyes practically burning in the monitor of her computer.

but she couldn't care less.

the same footsteps, but now two pairs make their way in the office.

minji assumes it's the new girl with their boss, minji pays them no mind and continues to type away.

"hello to everyone, i would like everyone to meet the newest addition to our family."

minji's eye twitches at the mention of the word, and she turns around to take a peek.

her eyes — she swore it was playing games on her.

the girl is a lot shorter than their boss, hair adorned by clips and neatly styled. her choice of clothing is… impressive, the blouse — the frilly collars. how does minji describe it?

it's cute and pretty, with her pencil skirt firmly hugging her figure.

everything about this girl screamed fresh, even the smile on her face.

such energy was like chugging water after walking on a desert.

"good morning! i'm l/n y/n! i will do my best and i hope everyone takes good care of me."

after that, minji finds herself nervous every now and then.

you walk around the office quite often, initiating conversations with other officemates every now and then. you're so peaceful but not in a way it's hard to approach you, considerate, kind and joyful.

you're like the water and the sun.

minji can't get you off of her mind,

and it's only the first week.

it's a torture.

the second week came.

like a game, when you spot minji getting a drink, you offer her the coffee you made, you watch as her eyes examine yours — her reddish ear tips went unnoticed but she slowly takes it from your hand and walks away. she starts to wonder whether you can read her mind, afraid you might read along her lines.

not only your coffee tasted heavenly, your voice is like the call of angels.

your outfits were always on the same level of cuteness, it seems like you're always ready for the day.

you go to work happy and go home the same.

everyone likes your energy and for the first time, the boss wasn't trying to torture a newbie.

she should be mad, jealous, insecure or whatever.

but she can't bring herself to hate you.

your eyes, your smile, your hair, your perfume — the flower patterns in your socks you wear every thursday. even the bear in your phone case and lock screen.

oh how bad it would be for minji to find out you're taken.

but she doesn't realize it yet, she doesn't realize that she's wishing you're single.

"hi ms. kim, i thought you'd like another cup of my coffee so i brought you one again." you peek from the walls of her cubicle, eyes burning on the back of her head as you watch her type in a steady motion.

minji stops and breathes a small huff before turning her head a bit. "just place it on my table, thanks." she mutters, eyes trying not to graze over your figure who walks slowly towards her cubicle and stops right in front of the table, gently placing the cup of copy on top of the wood painted table.

it's been 4 weeks since you've started. the office tried planning to conduct a small party to welcome you but you declined saying that all the time can be given to work so no one gets burdened.

how dare you…

how dare you snatch minji's heart just like that?

you're so understanding, caring and pretty. minji's mind whirlpools when she sees you, her heartbeat races in your presence and her knees fall weak at your smiles.

"ms. kim? you've been working for quite some time and you haven't thought of going out of your cubicle at all… is everything going out fine?" you ask her, your voice ever-so-lovely when those words slip out of your lips. minji pauses and leans on the table, her eyes everywhere but yours.

"i'm alright here, i don't really go outside. so i'm fine." she says, you couldn't help but nod yet you feel compelled, you really did want her to have a conversation with everyone as she's always alone in her own little world.

you nod in understanding, not forgetting to beam a smile at her.

when you left, it felt like there was a cold wisp of air blowing on her face— now, it truly felt lonely inside her small space. minji stares at the screen, wondering what you might be thinking right now as she turns around to see you talking to a male colleague of the same age. her heart clenches in worry, realizing how much she needed your presence to ease her tense feelings.

you continue on your own little job, working on designs and papers inside the office, printing posters every now and then and talking to the chief.

minji goes out of her cubicle, not forgetting to peek and she makes her way to the small kitchen of the office, where you were hanging out with other office mates during break. the others spot her, all being left in surprise when they spot the quiet, reserved and cold girl.

"o-oh! minji…" this was the first time they saw her out during the hour where others were out too. you can clearly see the shock written on their faces, you smile at minji and grin. "oh my, ms. kim good to see you!" you tell her.

minji nods at you before excusing herself for some coffee and you follow.

"hi, i can make the coffee for you and you can sit down for a moment ms. kim, i don't mind." minji and you stand in front of the counter, where minji holds a cup reaching out to the coffee machine. her eyes follow yours, feeling flustered. "u-uhm, it's okay." she mutters.

"no really! i don't mind, i'll be making your coffee as long as you want me to." you smile as you reach out to the cup in her hand, your delicate fingers touching hers.

truth to be told is that you like your senior, her presence puts you in a trance, you love her passion in her work but at the same time worried for her. she's so calm and collected, clearly not in a rush like the world is, she's so intelligent.

you love checking her cubicle to make sure she's doing well, like getting her to talk to you so you can hear her voice call your name.

you love doing things for her, that salary doesn't matter much when you're working — you just love her that much.

her hard work pays her well, but she's very lonely and you can tell that, hearing from the others that she often comes home to an empty house and does all the work herself.

that leads her to being independent about any stuff.

when both of you got promoted, the boss insisted on a party and a small dinner at a restaurant. you were happy but worried minji might not be up to it, so you decided to speak up and say.

"if it's fine, we can ask ms. minji if she's okay with it. i'm fine with whatever though." you tell everyone, turning your head to minji's office — now that she's promoted, seeing as she's busy once again.

your boss sighs and looks up at you.

"how about you ask her? she might not care if it came from us."

so you did,

you knock at the walls surrounding her office, peeking your head.

when your eyes meet hers, you feel your heart melt. you take a deep breath, preparing yourself before speaking.

"hi ms. minji, are you busy?" she only stares at you before standing up.

"not really… why?" she asks you, her voice patient.

you feel your face heat up at the intensity of her gaze.

"well, the boss was planning to hold a small dinner later to celebrate and i was worried you might not want to come. because i can postpone it if you want."

minji shifts her gaze.

"why? if you want to then go." she says, you frown and bite your bottom lip.

"no it's because… i want you to be there."

minji holds her breath before clearing her throat.

"oh, i — i guess, i'll come. if you want."

you couldn't help your smile as you hop, before laughing and putting a hand on your mouth.

"wait, really?" you look up at her, eyes glimmering in happiness.

she nods and gives you a small smirk.

"yeah."

the dinner was kind of awkward, almost everyone wanted to say something to minji but were all holding back in fear of pushing a button or two,

except of you of course.

you're sure she likes your presence, sitting beside her at dinner and asking her things — the type of work she enjoys, what's her favorite drink, food and more.

she answers them occasionally and sometimes just looks at you as you converse with other people.

you drank a little too much…

and minji excused herself to the restroom in which you followed, seeing her washing her hands.

"ms. kim." you call out to her, you see her turning her head — eyes recognizing you immediately. "hey, y/n." she says almost as soon as she sees you get closer.

you reach out to her forearm, caressing her as you lean to her shoulder, taking her off guard.

"u-uh… uhm. hey, ms. l/n?"

you huff, smelling her fresh perfume.

"ms. kim? do you like me?" you ask her in a hush whisper.

meanwhile you reek the smell of mixed alcohol with a peach scent, the scent wafts around the restroom and sends minji into an orbit.

she feels a sharp breath inside of her.

"w-what do you mean..?" she asks.

you laugh at her and clutch her arm, leaning closer.

she would like to lean in for a kiss but you are drunk.

maybe one would taste better if you were sober.

"you know what i mean, dummy." you giggle.

minji looks away, blushing — she clears her throat and tries to push you away but you hold her wrist. "no! ms. kim! answer me." you lean closer, this time minji reaches for your waist and squeezes the body under her palm.

the action made you weak.

"you're drunk." she reminds you, but you shake your head and put a hand on her shoulder, refusing to back down. "no, you just have to answer me." your persistence really shakes her core.

minji sighs.

"yes, you're really cute. that's all."

your eyes shift to her plump lips and you smile, leaning in but minji was quick to turn her head so your lips touch her cheek instead.

you can't stop giggling after, making minji frustrated.

"i'll accompany you home."

contrary to popular belief, you do remember what happened— it's quite vivid, the memories of that night.

you think maybe, she really just sees you as nothing but the cute junior in work and that's all…

you didn't want to make it that deep but it made you sad, quite.

at least she acknowledges you, but it really doesn't feel enough.

does ms. kim really just don't like me?

minji on the other hand, was weird because you didn't visit her office like you usually did.

did something happen?

well something did happen.

she makes a mission to reach out to you and when she sees you, you're alone in the kitchen — staring at the wall.

you don't notice her footsteps as she gets closer, stuck in your little own world where you imagine a different (maybe?) universe with her, living in one home, sharing stuff, doing the laundry together and cooking for her…

"ms. l/n." her voice is firm, you shoot up and look at her with wide eyes.

"ms. kim?!" you place a hand on your mouth before standing up. her eyes show worry, but she brushes it off and puffs her chest. "is something the matter? you're not your usual self today." she says, as if she knew.

well, she does.

doesn't she?

you shift your gaze with a small sheepish laugh.

"i'm just occupied with stuff on my plate right now, do you need anything, ma'am?" you ask her, in which she shakes her head and leaves, slightly regretting not confronting you about the last time when she just heard your small but vague confession.

"fuck." she whispers when she closes the door to her office, planting her face on her palms, feeling the slight sweat.

packing your things to head home, you bid your goodbye to your colleagues with a warm smile. you make your way to an elevator and when it was about to shut a hand sneaks its way inside, a rather familiar large hand by the way. when the doors were forced to open, it reveals your senior now turned into manager.

"ms. kim!" you were surprised, because she usually doesn't take the same route as you do.

minji looks at you with her round eyes and enters inside, pressing a button to the ground floor. it was quiet for a short amount of time only, with minji trying to gather all the courage inside her to talk to you.

"do you have plans tonight?" she asks, after she saved enough money to get a car (which she used to take you home last time), she's been wanting to take you somewhere else.

you look at her, clearing your throat as you smile and push strands of your hair behind your ear.

"no. not much." you answer.

"good, i want to tell you something." she says, exactly when the elevator opened.

you walk out and turn around. "about what?"

you notice how her hand flinches.

"something… about that night." your eyes widens as you shake your head — smiling at her.

"actually — i remembered i have something… up, tonight." you say, walking immediately away from her. minji noticed the behavior and followed suit until both of you were in the parking lot where the exit was found and her car was parked.

"ms. l/n, what's the matter? did i say something wrong?" minji asks, catching up quickly and you stop before shaking your head rapidly and frowning on her. "no! it's just that… i'm so sorry i put you in that situation and i'm so stupid for saying such things it's just because — ms. kim i love you. you don't have to love me back because it's okay. i understand that… but all i wanted was for us to be something — i wanted to be your girlfriend and do things for you, like i want to cook for you and do your laundry. make you coffee and fix your collar. everyday."

you pause and feel your cheeks heating up.

"but of course you don't like me that way and maybe i was so drunk and i really didn't mean to sound off putting but i did really like you. it's true." you add before looking down.

"i never said i don't like you." minji mutters, you slowly look up to her and see her approaching closely.

with slump shoulders, she continues.

"i said yes, you're cute."

you blink and reply. "but that's all, right?"

minji chuckles and shakes her head. "no, not quite. it's because you're drunk and you might not get it, but i do like you as much as you do, maybe more. yeah, i appreciate what you do for me and what you will do."

you feel tears prickling in the corner of your eyes, sobbing.

"you love me too?"

minji laughs, eyes turning crescents with her cheeks red.

"yes, i love you too."

with that, you rush towards her and embrace her in a hug, she catches you and wraps her arms around you.

your lips touch hers in a kiss, with her still holding you tight in her arms where you nestle closer for warmth.

feeling so happy, minji realizes she's never felt this type of happiness ever before — clearly missing out your existence. there's always been a space for you in her life, maybe she just didn't find it earlier — but there it is! with everything for you to have, she gives up the loneliness she's always had for a long time before you came into her life and makes a space for you to settle in forever.

she's not the same old grumpy, quiet, and mysterious colleague anymore.

well—

maybe still grumpy, but less sad and not lonely anymore.

#kim minji x reader #kim minji #kpop imagines #female reader #kpop #newjeans #newjeans imagines #girl group #newjeans minji #girlgroup imagines #minji

[kdyism]

STUPID CUPID. 

pairing. haechan x reader

genre + themes. friends-to-lovers, fluff, smidge of angst, christmas-themed, college!au.

wc. 5,342 / warning. christmas, mention of kissing, being drunk, dumb decisions, mistletoes.

synopsis. after being victim to jaemin’s cupid-ing last christmas, lee donghyuck has to figure out whether he wants to give up on you or go for it while risking the comfort of your friendship because he think you don’t remember last christmas.   

secret santa hosted by @neowritingsnet​ for @kthpurplesyou​ | hi bee! it’s me santa watermelon aka yunan <3 hoping i was mysterious enough and you are shocked, i hope this fic is to your liking! i switched writing between morning and night so it took longer, i wanted to drop it on dec 20 so that you’d have time before celebrations in case you do. crossing my fingers and sending this out to you, bee, i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it 💞💖💓

yunn says hohoho likes, comments + reblogs are appreciated, i hope everyone else enjoys this quick fic! 

Lee Donghyuck is known for his infectious personality. He can leave a mark of his existence within a few seconds, he knows way too many people and most people would just think he is someone with too much free time on his hands.

“Did you get a name from the box?” unfolding his paper while maintaining a neutral expression, he sits in his usual seat and you bite down on your lips, eyes sparkling as soon as your eyes fall on the unfolded paper in your hand. “Let me guess?” narrowing his eyes, he hums. “...Taeyong,”

Gasping quietly, you nod chaotically and show him the name. “How’d you know?” you ask, a smile crawling onto your cheeks and you twist in his direction, your eyes looking directly behind him.

“When you see someone’s face as much as I've seen yours…” Donghyuck pursues his lips, “I would be an idiot not to know,”

Rolling your eyes at him, you dismiss his comment and continue with your preying. “How’s your schedule for this month?” you inquire, slipping your phone out of your pocket and suddenly, you look determined and shift your eyes back to him. “God, are you that happy?” he churns his face, watching your shake excitedly and your lips barely holding down a grin.

You gush in response, “Of course! You know I want his number,” skipping away from him, all he could do was sigh.

Waving you off, Donghyuck tries to hide his disappointment; unsure whether it was directed towards his paper or because of yours. Lee Taeyong, your most recent crush-ish, is a post-grad whose taking the same course as you for the same reason, extra credit. Donghyuck is already familiar with your boy of the week kind of crush-ishes—it’s not quite a crush, more like surface-level infatuation but if he didn’t know you any better, that’s what he would’ve thought.

However, it has never bothered him. Not until a stupid thing happened last Christmas.

Last Christmas changed everything, no warning or heads-up was given. He still remembers the night, unlike most nights at parties. He was sobered up, mind buzzing with all kinds of things until he was finally asleep on your sofa at almost 4 AM. He blames Na Jaemin for what happened, from his needless matchmaking to his punch-worthy grin, everyone knows that Na Jaemin’s favourite hobby is playing Cupid, going to all sorts of lengths to get his couple of the month to date. Hell, Donghyuck has actively participated in the talking up of girls, spreading rumours and finally, getting the ‘Characters’ to go on their first date.

It was funny and oddly satisfying when they do end up dating, Donghyuck for one wasn’t one to interrupt the fun. Not when he was directly getting the kick out of it. Except, he realized, it’s not very fun when the character line-up had his name written in the main leads.

hyuck💞: im booked all month

hyuck💞: why???? did you have something in mind???

“I hate him.” you declare breaking the silence that he embraced, “He said, ‘Uhhh I don’t know you…’ and left! Ugh, I didn’t think—”

“You didn’t think what? That he would be a normal person and be cautious when a sophomore is asking for his number?” he cuts you off snarkily and you drop your jaws, putting your hands on his shoulder and asking, “And why would he be cautious?”

Cupping your cheeks with a smile, Donghyuck says, “One, you are not me.” raising his brows, you wanted to flick him but you let him continue. “Two, don’t you remember someone leaking Sehun—whose also from post-grad— his number was just spreading like disease between group chats, of course, they’d be more careful,”

Letting out an “Oh”, you pout, slumping weakly as you understand his reason. “Are they friends?” you wonder, Oh Sehun was also hot if your memory serves you well but he rejected you without hesitation and then you killed his memory along with your fascination with him.

“Yeah—we don’t really have that many post-grads,” releasing your cheeks, your face falls before you pull yourself up and you click your tongue at him and he shakes his head.

Donghyuck’s reasoning always changes your mind, he was the reason you were even in the social club, to begin with. He was friends with everyone, always making plans with everyone and you’d barely ever see him if not for your meticulous planning to match your schedule with him since you were naturally more free than he was with both his part-time and his “Hey, whose name did you get?” you ask, remembering that he was friends with Lee Taeyong as well.

“Why would I tell you?” he glares at you, backing away and immediately guesses, “I am not going shopping with you,”

Slapping your hand over your mouth, “How’d you know?” you splurt, your hands dancing in the air trying to show him your surprise. “Yeah, you’re obvious,”

Donghyuck could easily predict what was going on in your mind, not always but usually he could. From his second month of being your friend, he already knew that you thrived on being nosy. The way you made friends with people by letting them complain about their problems to having new crushes on every new person who you saw for the first time—there might be just one reason why Donghyuck would like some distance between the two of you.

“You know mine, why can’t I know yours?” you ask not looking away from him while he packs the study material he already knew you were going to ask that, so he scoffs wearing a smirk. “It’s supposed to be secret santa, not un-secret santa. Now,” he pauses, waiting for you to stand up again and he begins walking out of the hall as you follow closely beside him, mumbling, “That’s unfair…”

“To the cafeteria?” you ask and he nods.

“Yeah. so, I wanted to say but you keep shutting me up—Anyways, I am not going to see you until the Christmas party at Mark’s,” Donghyuck stops as soon as the elevator sounds, “I am blocking you and going on a detox,” stepping into the elevator, he leaves you behind stunned.

Just as the doors slide back, he smiles while saying, “I don’t wanna see your face anywhere near me, okay?”

To hyuck💞: you cant do this you hurt me 🤕🤕

To hyuck💞: im sorry what did i doooo??

To hyuck💞: unblock me plsssss 🙏🙏🙏

To hyuck💞: what will i do without you??? i need you bro

Message failed to send

There aren’t many nights where he quietly stays in his room, ignoring your text and pressing block on you. There have been times like tonight when the heart beating in his chest feels more painful than usual. He has never been the type to cry through the night. The ceiling of his bedroom is comforting, the mould collecting in the corners every winter, reminding him of his chores, and normally, he'd be on his phone scrolling mindlessly through social media and thinking about how he was going to be a better person tomorrow than today. Usually, they happen a lot later than 10 PM and only after he has spent his day with you already.

For one, he’s glad that no one could tell of his awful crush on you.

Christmas has always been easy, it's been pleasant, and unlike most seasons; the holiday season always gets him in the mood for a big gathering, cosying up with his friends and just enjoying their presence without having to mess around and it also makes him less of a troublemaker. He doesn’t follow Yangyang to the skating rink nor does he annoy Renjun in the library and he also leaves Mark to do his good thing of the day without bothering him about that club that opened a block away from college. He was even fine with you telling him that you’d be going out.

With someone who wasn’t him.

He was fine.

Until Last Christmas happened.

“I’m coming in!” Jaemin’s voice brings him back to his room and he sits up, sighing heavily. “Are you staying home tonight?” he asks as soon as the boy enters the room wearing his strawberry-patterned apron that a junior of his gifted him.

“Jeno has a project so he’s staying with his group at the library—I have been left behind,”

Rooming with Jaemin was a last-minute decision, when his dorm lease was up he was going to resign it, however, after your fingers held his hands this spring, shaking with excitement and your lips stretched in a smile, reminding him that you only lived ten minutes away from Jaemin. Before he knew it, he was signing a new contract with Jaemin who couldn't hide his mischievous eyes for him.

"Did you block Y/N?" Jaemin sits on the swivel chair in front of his computer, casually pulling the cord of his wired mouse. "I sent her back home saying you weren't here just now,"

"She came here?" Donghyuck bursts, eyes wide and Jaemin laughs, "Of course not."

Groaning, Donghyuck throws his head back in defeat. "This is all your fault. If I didn't kiss her at that party we wouldn't be going through this," he grumbles, closing his eyes and flashes of last Christmas pass by.

It was picturesque, so perfect and the heat of his lips on yours—he would've never guessed that you'd taste like wine.

You hate wine.

Jaemin rolls his eyes, dismissing the accusation. "It's not my fault you have a superiority complex about knowing where all the mistletoes are,"

Offended by that, Donghyuck gets off his bed and stares down at the boy who continues to grab his copy of the Forza Horizon 4 and strut back to the door. "You hang it up there knowing full well that me and Y/N always take that spot," Donghyuck said and he receives a loud hah from his friend who pulls the door open.

Jaemin looks him straight in the eye, his characteristic sweet smile on his face and he said, "Maybe you should've just been a big boy and kissed me instead,"

And well, he wasn't wrong, so Donghyuck resorts to slamming his face into his pillow and raging at it, screaming while swinging his legs recklessly until his shin stabs against his bed frame and gives him genuine reason to scream out. God, if you were here, you'd have a look of worry painted all over your face while you still laughed at his pain and to be honest, Donghyuck thought you would look nice against the background of his room.

Turning to lie on his stomach, Donghyuck wiggles in his bed to get comfortably under his sheets, and he unlocks his phone, your image glowing on the screen. He has an album full of just you. You love sending him pictures of yourself, outfit of the day, and once in a while, when you look really nice, you'll send him a decent picture that he would lose his mind about but all he responds with is an emoji, the one with two eyes looking sideways.

Gulping down frustratedly, he clicks off his gallery, and suddenly, his screen cuts with notifications.

leemark: u helping on 23?

leemark: please?? jisung broke his arm u know he can't help me now

leemark sent a sticker

you: you owe me one

Working graveyard hours, twelve-to-four, has its unexpected silver lining. Most people are asleep during this time and anyone awake usually just want to get home, aside from the hooligans who mind their own business if you mind your own because of the cameras placed inside the convenience store and the patrol team in the area from two-till-six because of recent crime level increase in the area. To Donghyuck, it was perfect for a decent-paying, low-effort job.

The one downside of this is, you live super close to Jaemin and share the same convenience store as them. Of course, he'd see you if you decided to visit the store at this time.

Donghyuck didn't think of you as someone hot before, casual dating was not his mind when it came to you and you were always busy being interested in whoever is new. Maybe you liked the unfamiliarity of them, the fact you didn't see them for consecutive weeks before they suddenly appeared in front of you, unlike the two of them, Donghyuck has been in your life consistently for the past two years and this year, something changed.

The pulsing of his heart, when the store's automated doors slide open and your familiar pyjama hoodie comes into his view, the way his lungs forget to breathe and he can't tear his eyes off of you until you make your way up to the counter with your BBQ pringles and cola on the side. "When are you gonna unblock me?" even your voice is so sweet now, his brain shooting fuzzy chemicals inside him and butterflies making his knees go weak.

Donghyuck doesn't want to like you.

"You know the schedule, wait until the party," scanning the codes of your items and billing you up, he takes your exact change, sliding your snacks to you.

"Can't you give me a reason? What did I do?" you ask, stuffing your snacks into your hoodie’s pocket and Donghyuck groans, you didn't plan on leaving, he could tell. "You saw my text and didn't reply, you could've just replied then—"

"That's just stupid, I blocked you as soon as I remembered I said I would," he argued back, clicking his tongue at your exasperated expression.

Giving up on that point, "Nevermind that then, just give me a reason then," you said, Donghyuck grumbling internally and you stare at him, waiting for a reply.

"Didn't I tell you I wanted a detox?"

Waving him off, you glare at him and ask again, "Am I toxic? To make you need a detox from me?" your eyes tingle, the heat making its way up to your neck and you mentally curse, you've never been able to argue without feeling the urge to cry.

"That's not what I mean by detox. I just need some time from you, my life is a mess right now you are at the centre of it," Donghyuck explains, his hands automatically holding your face and rubbing away the tears that brim in your eyes. "I don't mean to make you cry—with all the time away from me, you can go and try to snag Taeyong! Come on, you have a life without me in it too," he adds, his voice softer and fingers gently crease your cheeks, earning a pout from you.

You spit, "What's that supposed to mean?" you take his hands away from your face and wrap your fingers in his, "Taeyong isn't you, no one is you. You are not replaceable for me,"

Tears bubbling up again, Donghyuck shushes you and he doesn't want to feel this way; his chest clogs up and renders him breathless in front of you, and he feels guilty. "Hey, hey, come on don't cry," he frets, his fingers wiping away the tears and settling on your shoulders. If only the counter wasn't in between you, he knows for sure he'd have hugged you and given up already.

"You know, your touch always makes me not cry," you laugh, remembering the time when you almost broke down in class after getting an F and being required to repeat a course the next semester. He held your hand the entire two hours of the lecture and even stayed with you until you were back home. You didn't even know him too well back then.

It made your heart kinda race for him but the comfort of your growing friendship with him felt too precious.

"That's because you are like a baby, holding you will make you calm down," he exposes you, rolling his eyes as if it were an obvious truth and you scoff, "Just how many people do you think hold my face like I'm a chipmunk?" killing the mood, Donghyuck sighs, "Well, at least you are okay now,"

"Unblock me now," you said, regaining your reason once you've calmed down and he shakes his head without hesitation, suddenly regaining his previous determination. "Yeah, no."

A Y/N-detox isn't feasible if he thought about it, not when you've carefully matched your schedule to his because he is always working or has appointments with other friends, you work at the cafe down the fast food cabin he works at, take the same bus home as him and worst of all, you both share the same friend groups because of how much time you spend together as a collective.

"Do you guys like, hate me or something?" Donghyuck deadpans, slumping into the seat you were previously sitting at.

"You hate yourself," Renjun quips, his eyes not leaving his book and Yangyang nods in agreement while adding, "You didn't think it would be a good idea to tell us you didn't like her anymore? We would've not invited her,"

"We could've also made a group without you in it," Mark said, resting his head on the wall and dozing away. He had finished a shift and was supposed to work one more shift today because his junior broke his arm but thank the heavens, Donghyuck said okay and is covering the shift. Too guilty to go home, Mark has resorted to staying around until the end of the shift anyway.

Mark, unlike Jaemin, was Donghyuck’s only refuge. The one person who knew about his crush and the one person who told him, hey, she might like you. "Dude, just go home," he says, shaking Mark's shoulder and Renjun sighs.

Renjun says, "I tried already, he is just being stubborn," closing his book once he bookmarks it and crossing his arms on the table. "Now, you need to tell us what happened,"

Renjun has always been perceptive of his mood, always keeping up with the latest drama and the main provider of information to Jaemin's cupid hustle. Romance was just his forte. Donghyuck, though, was too scared to ask him his opinion on it in case he told him to just give up—as if he wasn't already trying in his own way.

"Promise me you won't laugh," Donghyuck gulps and Yangyang grunts loudly, "Dude, miss me with the suspense—We swear, now what happened?"

Inhaling, he blinks away into the distance. "I might be in love with Y/N and I am so ashamed to come out with it. I know it's stupid but you guys know how we are, it's always us together, Donghyuck and Y/N, we're friends.

Shit, I even blocked her to get over her but it's not working—I dreamt of her last night and it was so embarrassing to see her today,"

"Dreamt of her… like… like that?" Yangyang asks, his fists covering his dropped jaw and Donghyuck's face burns up at the suggestion but he doesn't deny it, much to Renjun's disgust, he gags and says, "Please don't give us the details,"

"She's been going insane on her own and constantly going on about you—this must be why." Mark nods as if a bigger picture was drawn in his head, he grins and goes on, "Jaemin wasn't joking when he said you liked her last Christmas. I didn't think the mistletoe trick would work,"

Gasping at him, "You knew!" Donghyuck points at him in accusation and grabs his collar, "That kiss messed up our relationship!"

Yangyang breaks them up, grinning at Donghyuck sleazily, and he says, "Dude, tomorrow's party, just fix it. There's nothing to lose—I can't believe you've dragged this on for a year, how adorable."

Two weeks without Donghyuck and you are but a shell of yourself.

It was so easy getting used to life with him, he came in and went out so nonchalantly. You hadn't realized how involved he was in your life until he was gone from your daily transit, he was gone from your walks home, he was gone from his shift at the convenience store and not a single text you sent him went through. No, your life didn't revolve around him but you include him in everything because, Donghyuck will think this is funny, you need to tell him about the stupid fight that happened in the café and Donghyuck will look good with this, you need to take him shopping with you.

Shit, you sent him a picture of random things that made you think of him.

There was only once that you thought you liked him, and you shot that down as soon as he said he liked a girl in his social club—you even joined the club for him, how could he like someone else… you gave up as soon as your heart latched on and to be honest, you were okay with that because well, he was still the closest person to you.

You didn't need the kisses to feel loved. His gentle hands creasing your cheeks habitually and his warm hugs because he feels like it, they made you feel loved. The way he makes time to see you in his busy schedule, you know he leaves hours in his day because you'll ask him for time, which makes you feel loved as well.

It didn't make sense for him to suddenly shut you out, not when he was leaving all these signs, he didn't do any of these with anyone else—last Christmas meant something to him.

You just knew it did.

"Have you guys seen Donghyuck?" you ask, holding your red cup of punch barely full and your head feeling dizzy.

Pointing towards a corner, "I THINK HE WAS WITH MARK," Yangyang screams at the top of his lungs, the earmuffs doing their work to shut out even his loudness.

Lee Mark throws the most exciting Christmas parties every year in his apartment building in collaboration with his neighbours. The shared pool and backyard were completely theirs to use, Mark would normally hang up mistletoes in the spaces between his apartment and everywhere else. The kissing begins as soon as you want to leave his front door anywhere else. And you never leave his apartment, so you never had to deal with the plant.

That wasn't the case last year, someone had hung up mistletoes inside the apartment and exactly at the spot you and Donghyuck always beeline to, that's where everything changed for him and out of nowhere, you had to be the one acting normal because he wasn't.

Stumbling your way into the living room, it wasn't too crowded in here and it usually only had Mark's closest friends loitering around. Your eyes immediately find Donghyuck, laughing loudly and he leaves his beanbag, and almost instinctively, you plop down on it as soon as you near it.

Fading out of consciousness, "Who said you could sit there?" he whined, his eyes half-lid as he grabbed your hand and you shot up, your head feeling clearer now.

You always steal his seat when he leaves to get a refill. "I was just keeping it warm. You don't have to yell," you said, jutting your lips out. Your cheeks painted in a flushing colour, Donghyuck guessed that you already had your share of drinks and made a mental note to leave the party soon because he was your ride home. Not that he'll be driving but even walking you home is considered a ride.

Well, maybe not this time because you guys didn't come together.

Letting go of your arm, you fall back onto the beanbag, and he gives you puppy eyes. "I wasn't yelling," Donghyuck grumbles, getting shoved to the side by someone and he turns to face them.

"Are you okay?" Jaemin asks, his lips almost meeting his eyes in a wide grin, and Donghyuck immediately has his guard up, feeling a wave of deja vu.

"You look tipsy, aren't you gonna go home?" Pressing his hand on your forehead, Jaemin looks towards the ceiling above you and smirks. "Oh, look here, guys," he gasps loudly. However, Donghyuck could hear the pretentiousness of it.

Donghyuck followed his gaze with narrowed eyes, right above him, wretched mistletoes greeted him in the dimly lit corner of the room immediately releasing a groan. "Ugh, not again!" Donghyuck cries.

Scoffing at Jaemin, he rolls his eyes. "What? You wanna kiss me this time?" he asks in a mean tone, and Jaemin giggled, moving away from the spot while saying, "Of course, not," Donghyuck felt his blood boil, if Jaemin was a cupid, then maybe that song about a stupid cupid was right.

Clearly, his arrows were faulty this time.

Last time, it didn't cross his mind that someone else would be hanging up mistletoes, Mark never hung them up in the corners of the rooms and especially not inside Mark's apartment because he was scared someone would make out on his sacred sofa or worse, inside his toilet. But he learnt his lesson, Na Jaemin goes to extreme lengths to pair up his couples after all.

You then ask, "Then—Are we going to kiss?" your eyes look curiously at him as you pointed at the plant. "It's you and me under it now,"

And from that point, it's never been the same. The last time, he kissed your lips, it was stupid. You were drunk and said okay for the fun of it, Donghyuck could only hope neither of you remember it.

But when his lips lightly brushed on yours, and he realized that tomorrow morning you'll be back to normal, your memory in fragments and he remembers it clearly, the regret that washed over him the next morning when he opened his eyes to the ceiling of his bedroom, the horror that clung to him when his phone was bombarded by his friends curious about how he felt now that he had kissed you.

He was in denial for a whole year.

Once more, "Are we going to kiss again," you ask, your fingers pulling his shirt, you bring him back to the present and guide him down towards you.

Donghyuck's knees go weak, and he falls onto the floor with his breath caught. This time, you are the one taking the lead. "You remember," he breathes out, looking away from you and you give him a tight-lipped look. "Yeah, I never forgot it," you said.

"Why'd you never say anything, I am so sorry about the kiss—" Donghyuck immediately says and you cut him off, —"I didn't say anything because I didn't mind, I actually liked it and I thought you did too because you kissed me twice…"

Perhaps it was the lighting in the room. Donghyuck never thought you looked hot but he did always think you were beautiful, but today, the lipstick you wore made him want to go crazy. "Don't you like Taeyong now?" he just had to ask to be sure and you scoff, rolling your eyes.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you said, "You know my fascination with all my crush-ishes dies after I talk to them,"

"But you were so excited for the secret santa," "That's because it's gift giving and that's fun,"

Donghyuck didn't get your name, so he thought you weren't meant to be. No matter how stupid he thinks that idea is now, he still thought it was fate that you got Taeyong's name when you liked him. "I thought you were going to cut me off this Christmas to spend it with him, that's why I came up with the detox… to give you time away from me and me time away from you,"

Biting down a smile, you place a peck on his lips. "Have I ever gone on a date with anyone since you've known me?" you tease, and he immediately says, "Yeah, Yangyang. The two of you go on skate rink dates all the time, I see you guys,"

"That's just you being picky—you don't know how to skate so, of course, I go there with him and not you," flicking his forehead, you click your tongue and went on, "Plus, you always come along anyway,"

"Because I come along, it's not a date anymore,"

"Wow, genius," you giggle, rolling your eyes and Donghyuck sighs into your side, he thinks, his arms are allowed to go around your waist now and he's allowed to keep staring into your eyes.

Your eyes don't leave him either, the thumping bass of the background blending in with the sound of your heart skipping beats and your toes curl, butterflies choking your breath when you say, "Hey, there's a mistletoe here—can't you just kiss me already?"

Dipping his head down, his lips catching yours and this time, you taste like berry punch, your favourite and his hands cradle your face, he still isn't sure if this is the right way to go with you but when your lips synchronise with his, moving softly against his with your hands desperately clinging onto his shoulders.

It took him a mistletoe and a whole year to realize his feeling about you, so maybe, cupid wasn't the only stupid one, he was stupid too. You've been right in front of each other and yet, "Does this mean you like like me?" you ask against his lips.

Smiling, "Just how many people do you think I block?" Donghyuck lets his head rest on your shoulder, the rest of his body going limp as well on the floor, and you pat his back. "Are we together now? Next Christmas, will I be your boyfriend?" he asks weakly, and you nod. Although he couldn't see you, he could tell there was a smile on your face.

"Oh, by the way, do you know who put this in here? Mark doesn't put mistletoes inside his apartment right?" curiously, you point at the plant on top of you and he grumbles, "Na Jaemin," tightening his grip on you. Donghyuck thinks he should give his thanks to Jaemin too because, without him, none of this would've happened.

"Aah, now it makes sense why he came here last year—doesn't he always stay at the pool area with Jeno and that Junior of theirs?"

Nodding, Donghyuck says, "Yeah. He even came up this time too," mentally deciding to spare him this time.

And you giggle, cheerfully saying, "We should thank him, he is kinda like our cupid if you think about it. It goes well with his reputation on campus," the sound of your humming makes him smile, agreeing with you, "Huh, you think so?"

BONUS:

Beknownst to both of you, starting next semester Na Jaemin’s position as campus cupid was solidified using a picture he took once the two of you knocked out in the corner of Mark’s living; Donghyuck’s head nestling on your stomach and your head tilted upwards in a way that looked like it hurt—His greatest masterpiece he said, showing the photo and relying on the great love story until “How come none of you tell me about this?” Donghyuck accuses his friends, shifting his weight to one side and scoffing indignantly.

Yangyang shrugs, “It’s funny. And you guys look cute anyways, what are you mad about?” he asks, his face genuinely looking confused, which makes Donghyuck click his tongue, and Mark asks, “Are you mad we didn’t share the photo with you?” his eyes narrowed, hoping his guess was right.

“How’d you know!” you clap, nodding your head. “Hyuck changed his wallpaper as soon as he got the picture,”

“How did it take this long to find out, though?” Renjun asks, “You’re friends with everyone on campus. It's unbelievable it took you this long,”

©KDYISM, 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

#neosecretsanta #neowritingsnet #nct-writers #haechan x reader #lee donghyuck x reader #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct haechan x reader

[godlygreta]

god is fair | j. t. kiszka

title | god is fair

word count | 7.7k

warnings | swearing, mentions of alcohol - nothing too terrible... yet ;)

author's note | i've had this in the chamber for some time now, i just lost the inspo to write, which is why i haven't in a long time. this isn't a promise that i'll post more fics as they come to me, seeing as i'm a senior in college who has a fuck ton of other things to do. there will be a part 2 to this fic, but i couldn't tell you when it's coming :)

also, very much so listening to god is fair, sexy nasty by mac miller while writing this & starting the next part, so take that as you will ;)

unedited as hell so pls excuse any mistakes !

You always had this rivalry since the beginning of freshman year. This guy, Jake, would never show up to any of the classes the two of you had together, but always got the highest grades on every single goddamn exam that your Intro to Bio professor gave out. It infuriated you.

You figured that in the spring semester, you would be freed from the disappearing boy, but you weren’t. While the teacher called roll, everyone shouted out here. She landed upon his name, calling out to the class and looking through the rows of students. He had been there for orientation, sitting in one of the middle rows, slouched in his seat.

You planned to confront him the next day you had class together, on Wednesday, but Jake was nowhere to be found. Your roommate and your friends had heard your exhaustive theories as to why he was never in class. “Babe, you sound insane. Just let it go.”

But you couldn’t.

Competition lived deep within your roots, having an entire competition with the second top student in your graduating class in high school. Though the rage held between each other was never taken far outside of the academic realm, the two of you never thought to be friends and encourage one another. Thankfully, the two of you resolved the competition when the two of you realized you would be going into two very separate fields of study in college. 

Camren, who knew she was going to be a chemist from the time she first learned about chemistry, had told you she loved the competition – made it fun and kept things interesting. And there you were, going to school for Pre-Med with the same feeling. The two of you kept in contact, updating each other on the strive for greatness in college as well.

You kept a close relationship with a lot of your teachers, making sure to get on their good side before classes had really begun. You emailed most of them, especially your Anatomy and Physiology professor, Dr. Sahnya Heinz.

She was incredibly skilled in her field, leaving the active medical field to teach the new and future minds of medicine. It was a cliche line she delivered on the first day, but it encouraged that familiar competitive fire that dwelled within you.

You don’t quite remember how you came to figure out that Jake was ahead of you, but you had found out somehow from your professor, although it was an accident.

It made everything in you burn with anger and frustration. Anytime someone mentioned him, or mentioned the fact that you were second, you clenched your jaw and your teeth gritted together. Your friends had an inside joke that you were only mad because you had a huge crush on him.

“I barely even know what he looks like, Mel! I fucking hate the guy. Don’t start shit.” You’d plead, beer can in your hand in the lounge of some fraternity floor.

Over the next few semesters, you kept trying your hardest, spending most of your free time in the library, reading everything that you could to prepare for every exam. You wrote papers early, having them done at least three weeks in advance. As soon as you would be told about a new one, you’d immediately start finding sources.

You sauntered around campus, thinking that you would be way ahead of him. He still never showed up to any classes, aside from orientation and exam periods. You’d stare at him for a few moments while the teacher passed out the exam, looking over his face as much as you could.

His long hair would obscure your vision on occasion, making it hard to catch any of his features at all. From what you could see though, he had nice, full lips. His nose was something you could have stared at the entire exam period.

You watched him as he licked his lips, whispering a thank you to Heinz before grabbing his pencil from his desk and getting to work. You looked away from him as soon as Heinz put your exam on your desk, offering her a small smile and a quick thank you before getting to work.

It was almost spring break, meaning some of your assignments had been slowing, some of them had been increasing. A group of your friends from different majors told you about one of the lounge parties a fraternity on campus was throwing. “Sigma Tau has the worst lounge parties, Tamia. You know this.”

“They’re joining forces with the Delta’s though, so it’ll be better than normal! You have to come, you’ve always got your nose in a book. You haven’t drank with us in so long, I forget what you’re like when you’re drunk.”

“I don’t know… I need to work on this Midterm paper I have in Kainz’s class, it’s due next week.”

“Babe, it’s been done for weeks! You just keep editing it trying to find mistakes and there are none! I’ve literally read it five times. Please, go out with us, just tonight?”

You looked between Tamia and Mel, knowing in the end you would give into them anyways. “Ugh, fine! Tonight, and tonight only, just this once. If I don’t like it, though, I’m leaving and going to bed early.”

“You’ll have so much fun, I swear!” Mel and Tamia looked between each other, sharing expressions of excitement and happiness on their faces. You rolled your eyes, standing up from your chair.

You let them raid your closet, trying to throw something together quickly. Most of the time, Tamia and Mel never obeyed the dress code for the lounge parties, hating the idea of giving into the male gaze of the fraternity brothers. Tonight, however, was a bit different. The theme was Western, meaning it was cowboy hats and very tiny shorts.

You looked over the outfit that laid out in front of you, straw cowboy hat that Tamia had bought from Amazon (one for each of you), a pair of short shorts that may or may not show your ass a bit, and a red bandana top that Mel let you borrow last semester that you forgot to return. “I don’t know about this. I don’t even have the right shoes.”

“You forget we wear the same size, bitch, you’re going. No backing out.” They joked, tossing you a pair of white boots. “Just put that shit on while we heat up the curling iron, okay?”

“Fine, fine, okay.” You peel off your shirt, throwing on the one they picked out. Next to go were your pajama pants, which were replaced by the shorts. You kept the same socks on, knowing that nobody would see them anyways with the boots going up to the middle of your calf muscle. “I look fucking ridiculous.”

“You look fucking hot, now sit down while we do your hair and makeup,” Mel spoke, pulling out your desk chair while Tamia smiled wickedly with the curling wand in hand. You were nervous, looking at the both of them, but the good kind that settled under your skin and was left hidden behind the smallest smile.

You talked about upcoming exams with them while they did your hair and makeup, much to their dismay. They attempted to fill you in on the various drama situations going on around campus while you had been heavily plugged into your textbooks. You gasped often, finding shock and awe in some of the things they had been telling you about classmates.

They spoke about Jake, letting it slip that he had been planning on attending the party, joined at the hip with one of the girls he had been rumored to have been dating. One of the many. “Ugh, he just sounds like a douche. Gives me even more reason to hate him.”

“We’re not feeding into your delusion that he’s some douchebag. Dropping it.” Tamia spoke, putting her hands up in a surrender. Mel laughed, pulling away from you with an eyeliner pen in hand. “Maybe we’ll get you drunk enough to admit you like him.”

“I don’t like him, and I thought we were dropping the topic.” You looked at Tamia in the mirror, watching her face deadpan as she looked back at you.

“I have something hot in my hands, don’t be rude to me.” The three of you laughed, getting back into the rhythm of getting ready. You let them do their thing to you, curling the last bit of your hair and putting the finishing touches of highlighter on your brow bone.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, marveling at the job they did. You thanked them for getting you all dolled up, watching them change into their outfits. It was mostly just them taking off the sweats they were wearing, throwing them over the back of your desk chair. You took a few pictures with them in your mirror before finally deciding to head out.

The party had started a half an hour ago, walking into the party late like most people did. The three of you got in easily with matching the dress code, immediately looking for the drinks table. The boys in charge handed the three of you a free shot of anything you wanted. Mel chose for you, starting the night out roughly with a shot of Svedka.

You grabbed a Sprite from one of the boys in one hand, the shot of Svedka in the other. The three of you tapped your glasses together before downing the shot. The alcohol burned as it slipped down your throat, trying to soothe it with the taste and coolness of the Sprite. You shook a bit, throwing the cup away in a nearby trash can.

“That was fucking gross, I hate you so much for choosing Svedka.”

“I could’ve chosen something even more nasty, like Jack.” Mel laughed, leading the three of you over to a section in the lounge where you could stand a decent enough distance away from one another, instead of being piled on top of one another.

“I would have rather taken a shot of Jack, Mel.” You spoke, sipping more of your Sprite. Tamia pointed out a few of the people they had talked about earlier, letting you put names to faces.

In the midst, two of the Sigma brothers decided to start a dance battle, capturing the attention of those around them. Everyone joined in, gathering around the two guys. Mel and Tamia joined too, but you had slipped out of their grasp by telling them you had to use the bathroom.

You were happy to escape the party, sneaking out with a bottle of Smirnoff the boys had left unattended. You walked outside, taking a deep breath in. You were thankful to be met with the smell of fresh air, not smelling sweat and booze everywhere. Your peace and tranquility was ruined by someone’s voice, “Well, don’t you look adorable.”

Your head snapped towards the voice, seeing Jake sitting up against the bike rack with a cigarette between his fingers. “Shut up.”

“What? I can’t compliment you?”

“No,” you started, crossing your arms with the bottle still in your hand. “No, you can’t.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I hate you.” Jake looked at you, up and down, taking a drag of his cigarette. You screwed off the cap of the bottle, taking a pull. You tried your hardest to not make a face, looking away slightly when the familiar sting settled in your throat.

“Why do you hate me? I’ve never spoken to you before.”

“Do I have to have a reason?” You asked, walking closer to him.

“Suppose not. But if I knew why you hated me,” he tossed his cigarette butt on the ground, stomping on it with his boot. “Then maybe I could find a way to make you not hate me.”

“Unless you flunk your next exam, I guarantee that won’t happen.”

“Oh, I get it.” He chuckled, standing up from the bike rack he was leaning against. He grabbed his cigarette butt up from the ground, tossing it into the nearest garbage can. He turned towards you, staring at you with his brown eyes. “You’re just mad because I’m smarter than you.”

“You’re never in class. You shouldn’t be ahead of me.” You glared at him, lips moving into a frown.

“Just because I’m never there doesn’t mean I’m not getting the information. I work five, sometimes six days a week. We only have class three days a week. Typically, I gotta work those days. Heinz sends me the powerpoints and the assignment notes so I never miss anything.”

“Oh yeah? Where do you even work then?” You asked.

He chuckled, fingers brushing yours that were wrapped around the bottle. “Now if I told you that, it would ruin all the fun,” he looked you up and down once more, licking his lips slightly. “Well, maybe I’ll see you and your bottle inside.” 

You waited til the doors closed behind him to roll your eyes, and huff outwardly. You took the bottle of Smirnoff, turned on your heels and walked towards your dorm hall. You hated Jake. You really hated Jake.

—

Your midterms came and went. The stress decreased slightly, but only to be raised again as the end of the semester loomed around. Assignments started piling up, various papers and presentations due all around the same week. Since the end of Spring Break, you had been holed up in your room, left to your mountains of homework.

Your Microbio class had a presentation due that coincided with the research project you had been working on all semester long. Human Anatomy and Physiology (or affectionately known as BIO 312) had a major cumulative exam on the entire semester, which stressed you out more than any other homework assignment or exam you had.

Thankfully, your school held an all day event that attempted to boost the morale of the students on campus. Filled with a bunch of free things, you took advantage of everything offered.

Lined up on tables were various student organizations set up, with their own little games and prizes. A few of them had speakers that played the music they wanted to listen to, all speakers attempting to outman the other. However, the one that ended up winning was a tie dye station located in the lawn, handing out free t-shirts to dye.

One of the guys at the tie dye station had a wide smile on his face while his hands were dripping with dye. Setting your prizes down at a table where Tamia and Mel had put their things, you walked over to him. He welcomed you over with a smile, “Hey! Lookin’ to tie dye?”

“Yeah, I’m a medium.” You smiled at him, blocking the sun with your hand. He called over to Benny, asking him to pull a medium out for you. Benny handed you the shirt with a smile. “I’ve never dyed anything before.”

“Never?! That’s a crime against mankind, darlin’, let’s get this shirt dyed.” He spoke, talking you over the colors in each of the buckets. He explained to you some basic color theory, although you had remembered that from your high school painting class, you didn’t stop him; he was pretty when he spoke.

The curls on his head stuck out from the shaved sides, the gold of his earrings stood out underneath the blistering April sun. He licked his lips often, using the back of his hand to wipe sweat from his forehead. He helped you pick out the style you wanted, making sure the rubber bands were placed exactly where you wanted them. “I’ll dip them in the bucket for you so you don’t get your hands dirty.”

“Thank you. I could’ve managed on my own, but I definitely appreciate it.”

“Of course. What’s your name?” You offer up to him, before he lets out a chuckle. You question him with a pull of your eyebrows. “Jake talks about you.”

“You know Jake?”

“Yeah, he’s my twin.” As soon as the word left his mouth, you could see the resemblance; you almost scolded yourself for not realizing it sooner. They were similar, especially in their features and their eyes, although the two of them had very distinct color differences. Josh, as he told you after dropping the bomb on you, had warmer eyes, filled with caramel colored hues of brown in relation to Jake’s colder tones; his eyes were a darker shade of brown, with the occasional gleam of flirtation laced within the reflection.

He spoke quite differently from Jake, mostly just with the sound of his voice. It matched their eyes, their personalities. Josh’s bright, bubbly stature followed in his voice, almost theatrical as he spoke. “I guess that makes sense, you two do kind of look alike. Minus the hair, of course.”

“Well, of course. Mine’s better,” you liked that about him - how kind his tone was. You attempted to grill him about what Jake was saying about you, curiosity flowing violently through your bloodstream as if it lit your body on fire. “He just says that you’re second in the Bio class you have with him, and that it makes you mad.”

“It does, Jake’s never there. I’ve seen him three times, and two of those times were for exams.” Josh wrung out the part that had been soaking in the dye for a bit, watching the water fall back into the bucket.

“Yeah, it’s cause he’s working all the time, if I’m honest. Jake stays home during the week to work at the nursing home in our hometown. We don’t really have a large CNA population, most of the people who work there are highschool kids, so Jake’s really been their guy. Especially since high school, as soon as he graduated he moved to full time. All the old ladies love him.” He snorts, dipping your shirt into the blue dye.

“I didn’t know that.” You thought he was lying about where he was, which is why guilt started to eat away at you. You felt terrible for making assumptions, but you couldn’t take any of that back now.

“Jake doesn’t talk to a lot of people, but we love him anyway.” You chewed at your bottom lip, rethinking your opinion of Jake. “You goin’ to the concert later tonight?”

“Hadn’t decided. Mel and Tamia want to, so I’ll probably end up going. Are you?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll probably go.”

“Do you know who’s playing?”

“Some local band I think? I’ve heard a lot of the girls think the frontman’s pretty handsome.” He spoke with a smirk. You promised him you’d go, just to see if the girls had been right. He handed you your t-shirt to hold while he grabbed you a plastic bag. He also handed you a piece of paper with instructions on how to take care of your new tie dye.

“Make sure when you wash it, you wash it by itself. Otherwise, you’ll dye all of your other clothes and believe me, you don’t want that,” he chuckled, as if he was speaking from experience.

You thanked him with a warm smile, waving to him before returning to your room. As soon as you got back, you opened your window, allowing the air flow to travel inside. It kept you cool, allowing you to walk around comfortably with a t-shirt and shorts on. You put your plastic bag in the closet of your room, writing on your white board to remember to take it out and wash it tomorrow.

You texted Mel and Tamia, knowing that Mel would probably have some smart comeback about why you want to go to the concert. It wasn’t that you didn’t join them on nights out, you just had a lot riding on your academic success. Not only because you were the first one in your family to go to college, but also because of your mass of scholarships that only continued to flow if your GPA was at a suitable level. Anything below a 3.2, and you would lose almost all of them.

To: The 3 Dumb Sluts

Are we going to the concert tonight?

From: The 3 Dumb Sluts - Mel

Are you offering to come with us without us needing to beg and plead for you to join?

To: The 3 Dumb Sluts

Don’t make me take it back, Mel

From: The 3 Dumb Sluts - Tamia

We’re absolutely going. Come to mine whenever you want to get ready :)

To: The 3 Dumb Sluts

The doors open at 8 right? I’ll be over about 5:30-6ish. Gotta finish up this paper for Heinz real quick

You locked your phone before they could scold you for doing homework on a day that was designated for relaxation and recuperation. You pulled out your Anat and Physio binder, pulling out the sources you printed off in the library. You ran through the last one with a blue highlighter between your teeth. 

You set an alarm on your phone for five o’clock, saving enough time for you to shower.  You were about halfway through the last page when your timer went off. You silenced it, attempting to hurriedly finish highlighting the page. The article was placed onto your desk, highlighter returned to the cup on your desk filled with various writing utensils.

You pulled out your shower caddy, putting it on top of your dresser before pulling out your robe. You laid it over the edge of your bed, removing all of your clothes. You threw them into your hamper and put on your robe. You slipped on your slides, grabbed your caddy and traveled to the bathroom.

Underneath the uneven streams from the showerhead, you thought about Jake.

Maybe your first impressions of him were wrong. When Josh told you about the nursing home back in their hometown, you felt instantaneously bad for assuming that he just never showed up. You knew from what Jake had told you, that he had work, but you figured that was just an excuse.

You bit at the skin of your lips, hands on your shoulders as you soaked the warmth of the water in. You were pulled out of your thoughts very quickly as someone flushed the toilet, making the water fade in from super hot to super fucking cold. You hated the school’s water system.

You finished your shower quickly, drying off with the towel slightly before putting your robe on and throwing your hair up into your towel. You walked back into your room, locking it behind you. You set your caddy back where it originally was.

You threw on a pair of jean shorts that hadn’t seen the light of day since early October, pairing it with a long sleeve shirt that you had gotten back in high school for Christmas. It was plain, brown, but hugged your body well. The sweatshirt debate lasted a few seconds before you remembered how hot it was going to be outside. A record temperature for mid-April, almost 80 degrees outside.

When you checked your phone getting back from the shower, it was just barely five thirty. You texted the groupchat again, asking if it would be cool to come over a half an hour earlier than you had originally said. You knew it was a dumb question, you would always be welcome in their room. You chuckled at Mel’s response of, “Are you fucking dumb? Of course you can come over. Bring wine if you have any left! No carry-in’s allowed at the concert.”

You put your phone down for a second and slipped on a pair of shoes that were comfortable enough for you to stand in for a long time. They used to be white, but had gotten progressively dirty from the years of use. You shoved your phone in your back pocket and slid a few different bottles of wine into your backpack, separated by extra clothing so the bottles didn’t clink together.

You walked down the stairs, out the door and over to the other dorm building across the walkway. You scanned your keycard to get into the building, walking through the hallways waving to the RA on duty, McKenna. She had been in a few of your classes and was always incredibly nice.

Her room this year was actually a few down from where you were living. McKenna was a great RA, knowing exactly how to handle the rowdiness of the floor while still keeping the resident’s respect. She didn’t bother them unless she needed to, and they didn’t bother her unless needed. She kept it underwraps about the underage drinking that would inevitably happen, mostly by telling the floor they could do what they want, as long as they were quiet by quiet hours (which was around ten thirty on the weekdays, and one in the morning on the weekends).

You took the elevator to the second floor of East Sunderland, getting off as soon as the doors opened. The booths that had previously been up had begun to dissipate, bringing the plastic tables back into the buildings they belonged in. You took a last glance at the people cleaning before heading into Mel and Tamia’s dorm building.

You knocked on the door, coming as soon as you announced yourself to Mel and Tamia. The girls laughed as you walked in, looking at a picture of Mel from when they were a kid. The two of them showed it to you as you settled your bag onto Mel’s chair in the corner of their room. “Your buck teeth! Oh my God, you were adorable, Mel.”

“Oh shut up, I bet you didn’t look any better.” Mel spoke to Tamia, making the three of you laugh. “Anyways, what wine did you bring?”

“The Barefoot we didn’t finish the other weekend, and then I still had some Rose, so I brought those over too. I wasn’t sure what we were feeling.” Tamia pulled some glasses from her shelves, passing them out to the two of you. You filled their glasses with the Rose you brought.

The three of you talked specifics on the plans for tonight, hitting up another fraternity party as soon as the concert ended. There were two separate ones going on at the same time, so the two of you weighed your options over which one to go to. “The Sigs are throwing one, but I’d rather die. Delta’s throwing one, too, we’ll go to theirs instead. And maybe see if anyone’s at the Sig party that we like and stop there before heading back to the dorms.”

You walked down with them to the Athletic Department, hoping to have gotten there early enough to get a good spot. As soon as the doors opened, you were filtered through the doors, making sure that you were students with the college. The three of you half ran to the barricade, settling yourselves against it on the right side, although still somewhat in the middle.

The show wouldn’t start for quite some time yet, the three of you talked amongst yourselves about upcoming finals, what you had to do for various classes. You also found a few people around you to chat to while you waited, hearing laughter roaring through various parts of the crowd.

A few students from the Admissions Office had taken the stage, playing a random playlist of music that matched what the band was going to be playing. Rock thundered through the speakers, filling audience members with anticipation. Rochel addressed the student body, “Hello everyone!” welcomed by the sounds of cheers and screaming.

“We’ve got about fifteen minutes before the band comes on stage, so help us warm them up to the stage!” Everyone clapped, although some of the girls around you looked unenthused as they stared down at their phones. You checked yours for any text messages from any family members. You had nothing, so you put it back in your pocket.

Around four songs played before Rochel turned the microphone on again. Everyone shouted before she talked. “Well, it’s that time! Please, give a warm welcome to Greta Van Fleet!”

Rochel and the two other students walked off the stage, passing by what you had assumed to be one of the band members. He sat behind the drums, smiling and waving off into the crowd. You cheered for him along with Tamia and Mel, cheering just as loud when their bassist walked onto the stage. Both of their hair was longer, goofy smiles on their faces as they got situated with their instruments.

Your mouth hung open as you watched the last two boys walk on stage, seeing the twins. Jake’s eyes scanned the crowd as he slung his guitar over his shoulder. He found you after a moment, sending a smirk your way. You closed your mouth, glaring at him. Mel laughed at you, noticing your demeanor shift. “How we doin’ tonight everyone?”

Everyone cheered. “A lot of you might know me and Jake, seen us on campus and stuff. It’s wonderful to see all of you here, coming to support us as we celebrate the onslaught of spring! It’s been a particularly warm one today, so make sure to drink water! There’s plenty to go around.”

Jake started them off, pick between his fingers as he strummed the beginning chords to one of their songs. Some of the girls had begun to scream, shouting at Jake’s response to Josh’s little speech before he began playing. His signature smirk formed, watching the girls go crazy, eyes scanning the crowd before he found you again.

As Jake continued to play, he looked over to you any time he could. It was hard to tear your eyes away from him, enthralled by the way he looked on stage. You tried your hardest, truly, to look at any of the other boys on the stage aside from Jake but you just couldn’t. He fit the stage just right, bringing the attention away from Josh and demanding to be seen by the entirety of the crowd. He belonged up there.

Jake went to the center of the stage during his solo. Josh lingered around the drummer, keeping to himself, drinking whatever was in his cup. They kept on playing as Jake took the spotlight, everyone cheering and screaming for him. You kept silent, wanting to hear him play. His fingers worked against the frets of the guitar, not before sliding down and up it quickly. 

You tried to hide the awe you were in, but your friends knew. They saw it written all over your face. The frustration and annoyance you felt when you first spotted Jake on stage dissipated the second his guitar solo began. You swallowed thickly, watching as his attention turned from his guitar to you, pointing it in your direction. Your cheeks flushed, and your thighs pressed together.

This was going to be a long night.

The second the concert was over, Josh thanked everyone for coming. His smile was wide as he waved goodbye to everyone, walking off next to Jake who had his guitar by the neck before he passed it off to one of the stage hands. Josh put his hands on his shoulders as they walked off stage.

You stuck around mostly waiting for the crowd to die down before trying to leave the building. Mel and Tamia talked about the show, saying that it was fucking dope, commenting on how excellent Jake’s playing was. You didn’t speak about Jake’s playing, mostly praising Josh for his spectacular performance. “I never expected that voice to come out of him, how heavenly.”

“Talking about me?” Jake cuts through your conversation, walking over to you with Josh not far behind. You roll your eyes. Tamia and Mel congratulate him on such an amazing performance, gushing about how sweet his guitar looks. “Why thank you, ladies.”

“Mel! I didn’t think you were going to be able to come.” He gushed, wiping his hands on the sides of his khaki shorts he had changed into.

“Yeah, well, Miss Quiet over here wanted to see her archnemesis, didn’t you?”

“I-I–” You turned your head slightly towards Jake, who had an amused smirk written all over his face. “I did not, Mellie, stop lying.”

“By the redness of your cheeks, sweetheart, I’d say she was telling the truth.” You had barely noticed that Mel, Tamia and Josh had slipped away from the two of you, leaving you alone.

“I didn’t even know you were playing.” You admitted shyly, hiding underneath a guise of innocence.

“Even if you did, you looked pretty hot and bothered by my playing.” You held the back of your arms, trying hard to maintain eye contact with him. You looked into his eyes, they were staring straight at you.

“Yeah, sure. I actually came because Josh said he was going. He neglected to mention that he was going to be singing,” you looked at Josh who wore a smile that read ‘guilty as charged’ before patting you on the shoulder.

“Hey, you didn’t ask. You just asked if I was going.” You rolled your eyes and chuckled slightly. “Anyways, Sam and Danny are gonna spend the night in my room, so I’ll have to find somewhere else to be tonight. Are you guys going to either of the frat parties tonight?”

“We’re going to the Delta party. The Sigs’ reputation is not the best, and I don’t feel like seeing whether or not it’s right.”

“That is completely understandable. I shall see you ladies there then. You coming, Jake? We still have a lot to put away.”

“Yeah, in a second,” he turned towards Josh who had begun to walk away, waving him off before turning back to the three of you. “I hope you guys enjoyed the show, maybe I’ll catch up with you at the party.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, actually, I would.” He smiled at you before joining the other boys cleaning up their amps and cords.

“Jesus Christ, the two of you just need to fuck or something. I don’t think I can handle another interaction like that,” Mel joked, making a gagging face when she finishes her sentence. You pushed at her arm, turning around and walking out of the gym.

Tamia and Mel giggled profusely about your and Jake’s rivalry. The two even started making bets on when the two of you would finally ‘get it on’, as Tamia put it. You just rolled your eyes at the conversation, changing the subject to something different.

—

The party, though filled with lots of fun and drinking, was a bust. While Josh had shown up with his younger brother and his brother’s friend, as you learned, in tow, Jake was nowhere to be found. You thought to ask Josh why he wasn’t there, but he was too busy dancing with Micah. Through the grapevine, you learned that Micah and Josh had been together since high school.

You stayed around the party for almost two hours before you wanted to go back. A small part of you had wished Jake had actually come. You wondered if maybe the two of you would get along if you put your competitive nature aside. You tried not to dwell on thoughts of Jake’s absence for too long, wanting to enjoy the rest of the night with your girls. But when you had enough of the party, you shouted in Mel’s ear to let her know you wanted to leave.

Mel and Tamia had made sure you got back alright about two hours into the party. Your legs were tired and your feet had begun to hurt. The two of them stumbled with you back to the door of your building, making sure you were inside before leaving to go back. They almost came in with you, until you insisted otherwise.

Laying on your bed with your head pointed towards the ceiling you started thinking about Jake again. What was his reason for not being at the party? Did he just make those comments beforehand just to rile you up? It seemed like the only valid reason your impaired mind could come up with.

You grabbed your phone, almost dropping it on the floor. You sluggishly opened Instagram, and searched for Jake’s profile. You scrolled through, looking at the few photos he did have on his page. Most of the pictures he had were of his guitar, or places he’s traveled. You were sent into a panic when you realized you had accidentally liked an older picture of Jake’s, one from freshman year of college. Hurriedly, you unliked it and immediately locked your phone.

That had been a few days ago.

Now it was Wednesday and your first final exam was here. It was for the class you shared with Jake, BIO 312.  It wasn’t exactly final exam time, but Professor Heinz was going to be away at a conference for a week starting Friday. You didn’t mind, though, since it spaced out your other finals enough to have a decent amount of time to study for them.

You sat at your desk, looking over your notecards one last time before the exam began. A frequent look around the room and you noticed Jake walking in, going to a random seat a couple rows in front of you. He set his bag down next to him, before bending down to grab his laptop. He noticed you watching him and sent a wink your way.

You looked away as you tried to hide the rush of rosy skin that fanned over your cheeks and heated up your ears. You tried to ignore him again until at least when the test started, embarrassed that you got caught looking at him. Your phone pinged and you pulled it out of your bag to look at it, as well as turn it on silent.

jacobtkiszka wants to send you a message.

You swallowed and hit the notification taking you straight to the message.

“Person who turns their test in last pays for coffee?”

Your lips curved into a small smile, feeling your fingers type the first thing that comes to your head.

“Hope you brought your wallet with you, Kiszka.”

You put your phone on Do Not Disturb and shoved it back into your bag. The professor walked through the door, setting her things down on the desk in the front of the room. Her coffee mug still had steam coming from it, freshly poured. A quick look of her watch after getting settled and it was time to start the exam. “Okay, everyone. It’s time for class. Take out your laptops and begin your exam. You may leave when you have finished. Thank you for a great semester, and good luck.”

The questions on the exam were all ones that you knew and had studied for for weeks. It was strenuous, trying to remember everything on the cumulative exam. You had hoped it would go quickly and you would answer them faster than Jake could. Occasionally, you turned to look at Jake, seeing if maybe he was trying to look at you too.

With one question left of your exam, you click the answer and press submit after a minute of debate. You had a bad habit of second guessing yourself occasionally; it was actually the bane of your testing experiences. You hated when you felt confident about an answer, until you really sat with the other possible answers it could be.

You put your laptop back into your bag, zipped it up and noticed that Jake had already left. You cursed to yourself, knowing that now you had to buy Jake a coffee. You waved goodbye to your professor with a smile and walked out the doors. Jake sat outside of the classroom at one of the tables they had throughout the building. “Whatcha reading?”

“Josh recommended it to me, but I’m going to be honest, I fucking hate this book.” He laughed, shoving it into his bag. “You know any good coffee shops around here? I’m kind of tired of Starbucks.”

“I just so happen to know the best coffee shop in town, but it is a bit of a walk, if you don’t mind that?” You asked, walking through the door that Jake was holding before muttering a thank you to him. 

“I could also drive, if you’re okay with that.”

“I’m more than okay with that,” you chuckle, letting him know that your dorm building had enough stairs; any chance you could get to use an elevator, or get driven somewhere, you would take that opportunity in a heartbeat.

The drive was short in comparison to the twenty minute walk it would have taken to get to the shop. Jake tried to offer the radio to you, but you let him play what he wanted to listen to. You didn’t know exactly who was playing, but the blues music that played through the speakers was a breath of fresh air.

Your typical shuffle had a plethora of music from differing genres, whether that be rap or old country. You hadn’t known much when it came to blues music, especially the difference between good blues music and bad. Eventually, you got the courage to ask who was playing and Jake answered, letting you know that the song was by Buddy Guy. “It’s called She Suits Me To A T. I tried for weeks to learn this song when I first started playing music more seriously.”

“This is the coffee shop, at the next corner.” You watched his hand as he made a right turn, noticing him steering with just the palm of his hand. Letting the leather steering wheel glide back to its original position in his hand, elbow propped on the door with the window rolled down.

It’s all you thought about on your way into the coffee shop, completely relying on autopilot. Your responses to Jake were almost textbook, one word sentences that could continue the conversation without much effort. “What’re you thinking of getting?”

“Oh, um, I’m not sure. I usually have them surprise me,” you admit, shoving your hands into your jacket. “Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s not. That’s the gamble you take.”

“I like that a lot, actually. I think I’ll have them surprise me too, if you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all.” You smiled at Jake before he went to order for the two of you. You found a place to sit in the meantime, offering a spot towards the windows so you could watch people come and go, each on their own paths of life.

By the time Jake sat down, both of the coffees were in his hand. After a few questions, Jake set the iced drink down in front of you, and the hot drink in front of himself. “Yours is an iced chai, with brown sugar syrup and vanilla. Mine is some sort of tea, I wasn’t really paying attention to what she was saying. I just wanted to remember what she put in yours in case you liked it.”

“Oh,” you spoke, bringing the cup towards you. “Thank you, that’s really sweet. Do you like your drink?”

“You know, it’s really not bad. I wouldn’t have gotten it otherwise, but it’s really not bad.”

“You hate it.”

“I hate it. It’s not good.” The two of you chuckled before you offered him a sip of your drink. “Mhmm,” he moaned. “That’s good, oh my God.”

The two of you continued small talk, whether it was over the classes you had previously taken, memories of parties from past years – anything. You shared previous high school experiences, mostly about the ridiculous things that were considered parties in your teenage years.

Conversation with Jake was surprisingly a lot easier than you thought it would be. Especially since you’ve hated him pretty much your entire college career. You figured he’d be stuck up, aware of his academic achievements and ready to flaunt them in front of anyone who’d listen.

He was the opposite. His sentences were wrapped with kindness, and the reflection in his voice seemed nothing but positive. His voice was like silk, he could’ve talked you into damn near anything as long as his voice sounded like that. It hurt when the conversation slowed, spending a few moments to take in the scene around you two, as well as finally being able to drink more of your drink (which was very delicious, it was almost like crack).

“How long have you been playing guitar?” You asked after the silence became almost uncomfortable to sit with.

“Oh jeez. I’ve been playing since I was… like three? Yeah, three.” You stared at him with eyes slightly wide, mouth agape. “What?”

“N-Nothing, that’s just a really long time. You’re what, 21 now?” He clarified that he was only twenty, his birthday roughly a week away. You poked fun at him, mentioning how you were older, even if it was by less than a year.

“Josh is throwing us a birthday party, if you want to come. Since it’ll be our 21st, we’re having it at our parents cabin on Lake Michigan. You’re welcome to bring Mel and Tamia if you’d like. Sam and Danny are going to be there, even though they’re underage, but we’re gonna pretend like they’re older.” Jake spoke with one last sip of his drink, letting the empty cup echo on the table as he set it down.

“I will let Mel and Mia know. I can’t make any sure decisions without talking to them first, but I’m pretty damn sure that they’ll say they would love to go.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they’ll say no either. They seem pretty adamant that you have a little crush on me or something,” he said, putting your cups inside of a bus tub to be picked up and washed.

“I don’t have a crush on you,” you laughed, walking out of the coffee shop with Jake. “I actually hate you, remember?”

“You may say that you hate me, but you’re not really good at showing it.”

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